“Mum,” He cries, ignoring the looks people are giving them. His mother’s hand is wrapped firmly around his right wrist as she all, but drags him out towards the stairs leading to the subway station. “Ma, please,” He desperately calls out again, there are dried tear trails on his cheeks and he knows only splashing water on his face will erase and his eyes are still glistening with more unshed tears as he walks after her.

“Be quiet, Jongin!” She snaps harshly.

She’d been quiet when she arrived, played her part with Doctor Jung and listened to the woman explain from the first day she met Jongin and she made a point to tell her about how frightened and confused he was and still is– his mother just nodded along, tightlipped and her expression remained impassive through the whole appointment.

Her being quiet is never a good sign and the look of bitter disappointment in her eyes when he bravely caught her gaze killed him.

The minute Doctor Jung let them go; she’d grabbed Jongin by his shirt then and pulled him out of the clinic. His resisting caused her to grab his wrist with an angry look painted on her aging features. Her jaw was clinched and she told him in a low stern voice to stop making a fuss.

“Mum–” He starts again and gulps when she sharply comes to a halt causing him to run into her.

“We’ll talk about this when we get home.” She barks in her nonsense tone, “Not another damn word, you hear?” He feels five again– back when she’d freely scold him or smack his bottom when he was being naughty.

The only time he has ever seen her so upset; this outraged, was when Jongdae flunked out of his first semester year of university– that had been an awkward few months for everyone in the house.

Have I raised a moron? She’d snapped at all of them, but she took out her anger on their father more than Jongdae himself because their father is more flexible and isn’t as strict as she is– most of the time when things go wrong, their father takes the heavy backlash more than they do.

“I’m sorry,” He manages to say, his eyes down cast when and a hunch to his shoulders and a tightening in his throat. He steals a glance at her and sees her narrow her eyes at him, “I– I’m so sorry, mum.”

She doesn’t respond to his apologies. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest as she stands in front of him– glaring and boring her eyes into him. He knows she wants to scream at him, but a few people are waiting for the train– she has caused enough of a scene as it is and he knows she won’t make it worse by yelling.

He wishes for her to yell at him right at this moment– her building up her anger is never a good thing because she gets careless with her words, but he’ll do with her careless words now than stand in tense silence.

The next train is arriving in twenty minutes and that means twenty minutes of painful quietness. Jongin keeps his hands laced in front of him as he stands next to his mother with his head hung low and eyes downcast– he doesn’t attempt to talk to her again because he knows she’ll ignore him.

When they get on the train, he follows after his mother and takes a seat beside her– she pays for their tickets home and thanks the conductor– that’s the last time he hears her voice for the rest of the ride home.

()()()()

“Dad is out walking the puppy.” She states drily as soon as she unlocks the door and pushes her way into the house, “Lock the door behind you,” She says, not sparing him as glance as she toes her shoes off and pads through the short entrance corridor and he watches her disappear into the kitchen.

Jongin pauses by the door– frightened, feels exposed and alone– he snaps out of it when he hears the fridge’s door slam shut. He turns around, locks the door and toes his shoes off. He takes off his backpack as he slowly walks through the corridor and enters the kitchen; he sets his backpack by the door and swallows thickly.

The kitchen is a bit of a mess– she must have been in the middle of cooking when she received the call. Jongin doesn’t even want to know what was shared between her and Doctor Jung on the phone and he doesn’t want to think about what expression she had on when she was told– he’s still unsure if his father knows about this.

His mother finally breaks the silence, “Pick up your bag and go to your room,” She looks up from the ingredients she’s packing back into the fridge, “I’m too angry right now and I don’t want to hurt you.” She pauses at the fridge for a moment, her back turned to him and he notices her shoulder shaking slightly as she breathes.

He hesitates before grabbing a tight hold on his backpack and fleeing out of the kitchen to the safety of his bedroom.

()()()()

He stares blankly at his half-done history homework, he lost track of time, but his buttocks tell him he has been sitting down for far too long. He pushes his chair back and the second he stands up, his phone vibrates on his desk and the screen’s flashing with an absurd look picture of Chanyeol making a face at him.

A loud whimper pathetically escapes him as he immediately reaches out for his phone, he swipes towards the green icon, “Chanyeol,” His voice is cracking and he doesn’t dare try to control it. “Chanyeol,” He says again, just making sure it’s Chanyeol on the other end and nobody else.

“Hey,” Chanyeol’s husky voice comes in heartbeat and he’s already sounding concerned, “What’s up?” His voice gives him a sense of warmness. Jongin moves away from his desk and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs – phone tightly pressed against his ear.

“Hey,” He voices after clearing his throat, “How are you?” He asks lamely and his voice breaks anyway as the lump in his throat grows.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asks cautiously.

His eyes are burning now and he’s unable to stop the tears because no, he is not okay. Nothing is okay about this, nothing is okay about what he was doing earlier and nothing is okay because his mother and Jongdae know now– he heard his father arrive home a little while ago, but he’s only hearing the barking of their puppy and nothing from his parents.

“No,” And then he’s sobbing openly into the phone, desperately whipping at his eyes and trying to speak, but failing miserably because his brain isn’t functioning properly enough to form a sensible sentence.

Chanyeol’s voice is frantic on the other end; saying he sounds baffled is an understatement because to him Jongin’s crying is out of nowhere. “Jongin, please, tell me you’re alright,”

“I’m not alright,” He tells him, heart still in his throat and eyes tightly shut after he gives up on wiping his tears.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol demands hastily.

Jongin gasps unintentionally loud, an awkward laugh escapes him soon after, “Everything,” He splutters, “Everything is wrong and I can’t fix it because all the options are terrible and I don’t want to choose,” He’s insanely vague and it knows it’s only a matter of time before Chanyeol gets impatient with him.

“Chanyeol, I’m–” He stops himself from continuing that sentence and bites the insides of his mouth hard enough to draw blood as he exhales shakily, unable to believe he was about to tell Chanyeol the truth– and over the ing phone too.

His eyes widen and the air start thickening around him as he holds the phone tightly in his hand, barely registering Chanyeol calling his name and asking him why he’s so silent and why he just burst out into sobs not too long ago.

A knock on his door startles him and dreads fills him gut in seconds, “I– I’ll call you back.” He whispers, “I promise.” He hangs up before Chanyeol can decide and tosses his phone under his pillow. He straightens his posture when his bedroom door is pushed open; his puppy runs into the room and charges towards him.

Jongin bends forward and opens his arms for the puppy; he picks the tiny creature up and brings it to his chest. He kisses the top of its head as he its fur gently, “Hey, Monggu,” He whispers into its fur and rubs the soft ears, he settles Monggu on his lap and watches her mother enter into his bedroom.

She’s carrying a tray of steamy food and a glass of water, she doesn’t look his way as she walks towards his desk and placing the tray on it after clearing up and putting his homework to the side.

Jongin stays frozen where he sits and keeps his eyes trained on the brown puppy panting in his arms and he absentmindedly continues to its soft fur.

“Does Chanyeol know?”

She’s standing beside his desk with her arms loosely crossed over her chest and her face remains as plain as ever when he looks up at her. He bites his lower lip at her question, hand trembles before it continues with the gentle motions.

He shakes his head and she says nothing more– she walks out after telling him to eat, wash up and get some rest. She takes Monggu with her and Jongin’s left alone with only his chaotic thoughts to comfort him.

()()()()

“I wanted to, but I’m relieved I didn’t have to tell her myself.” Jongdae arrived at some point in the evening and had stayed away from his room until now. He’s now leaning against Jongin’s desk and staring at him with a hard look, “Dad doesn’t know yet,” He lets him know and Jongin nods numbly and says nothing to him because part of him is still angry about their last conversation.

“Mum told me about what happened today,” Jongin feels his whole body go rigid and his stomach twists and turns as he shudders at the memory of earlier today– the clinic, the pills, Doctor Jung and his mother finding out like that; her disappointment and anger– she can’t even look him in the face now. “And she tells me you haven’t told Chanyeol,”

“I don’t want to.” Jongin breathes out– he was close to doing it earlier, to telling Chanyeol, but his mind just shut down and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“It’s your body,” Jongdae suddenly says and Jongin looks at him questioningly, “At the end of the day it’s your decision if you want to tell him about it or not,” He pauses, “And about what you’re planning to do.”

“It’s cruel,” Jongin murmurs, his voice is hoarse and sounds terrible to his own ears.

“, I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not,” Jongdae runs a hand through his hair, “But if you do get rid of, uh, it.” He trails off for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation, “I wouldn’t want to know if I was Chanyeol,” He adds on, “So don’t tell him after everything’s done. Don’t ever mention it because it’ll be harder for him if he knows of something that no longer exists.” He shrugs once more and sighs loudly.

Jongin gives a hard stare at nothing, turns to look at Jongdae and quickly looks away when his older brother catches his gaze. “Should I keep it?”

“I won’t be the one raising it, I can’t answer that.” Is all Jongdae says before he pushes himself off the desk when his phone goes off– he sighs heavily, “I’ll see you in the morning,” He stops short by the door,  “Just tell Chanyeol before making decisions you can’t take back.” And then he’s backing out of the bedroom after looking at his phone’s screen without waiting for Jongin to reply.

Jongin is left staring at the pores on his skin, Monggu is lying in the center of his bed and he doesn’t have the heart to move the growing puppy. He lies down, stares at the ceiling until it’s blurred out by tears and he’s incapable of seeing a single thing past them.

()()()()

Excuse the mistakes omg