It had been months since you've last seen him. Months since you last went down to the circular room. Something came up. Something you couldn't explain.
You had dragged him back. You punished him and rewarded him. He was reminded of a reason to stay. The bond between him and his doll was strengthened. You had to, especially after what happened.
You step down the stairs. Black pants and a black shirt replace your old, black dress. Flats replaced heels. Your hair is pulled back, as apposed to down. Your hands graze the old runes on the wall.
The smell hits you first. Stale blood and rotten flesh hit your senses. Your feet hit the floor. The coldness hits you, and your breath is shown. You step to the center table. Dried blood lays on the table. Flecks fly off, as you shift them slightly.
You glance to the right. There it sits. The doll. You reach out, and ghost your hand over it. You shake your head. You pull back, and turn around.
He sits. He faces away from the table. The glass shards sparkle in the flickering light. His head is drooped. He is the same as when you left him. His shirt is torn. His pants are nearly perfect. His feet are bare. His body still is firm and perfectly sculpted.
You step over to him. "Hongbin."
His stillness shifts. "Hongbin, I'm here." His head lifts up. "Mistress is here." He turns. His cross eyes blink. They're sad. You reach out, and rest a hand on the glass. "Will you come here?"
He crawls to you. His hand raises. It comes down, and he punches the glass over your palm. You flinch back, and stare up at him.
"I'm sorry, Hongbin," you whisper, as he bangs the glass. You pull back, and dip your head down. "Hongbin. I had to leave. I know I had just gotten you back, and that I had just tightened the bond. I just had to leave. You'll understand after I free you."
He stops after those words. "Free?" His voice is hoarse. It hasn't been used in years. He rests his palms on the glass, as he kneels on the wood.
"Yes Hongbin. Free," you confirm, walking back to the table. "It'll take some time. I have to do it slowly, but you will be free."
"Time?"
"A month. Near a month. I'll let you decide after that," you explain, brushing your fingers over the doll. You both shiver. Him from the touch. You from the carefully crafted magic inside.

You spend the nights with him. Two of the twelve strings of the heart have been cut. The glass had been removed by his soft skin. He sits in the chair. A black shirt, outlining his shape, covers his toned body. You sit beside him. You hold an open bottle of water.
"Now. What do you do with this?" You asks, holding it out. He takes it, and brings it to his lips. He drinks some, before the water falls over his body. His black hair sticks to his forehead. He throws the bottle, and you exhale. You walk over, and take it into your hands.

You snip the seventh thread. He flinches. You mutter an apology under your breath. You walk to him, and keep the scissors. He sits, and you run your fingers through his hair.
"I'm not that good at this, but the fringe isn't the most appropriate anymore," you confess. He nods once at you. You grab the fringe, and pull it straight. You trim it down, keeping it in line with the rest. You cut the ends, making them shorter. You pull back, and look at your work. You brush the hair away.
"Thank you," he whispers, looking up at you. You lock eyes with his. Brown circles greet you. He blinks, and the crosses return.

You bring down a single plate. Silverware is held into your hand. Hongbin faces you. He smiles, and walks over. You place the plate down, revealing the largest meal that you've given to him.
"Do you really think I can eat this?" He asks. You nod slowly, and turn away. You take a deep breath, and look to the doll. A single stitch remains.
"I'm going to let you go tomorrow. Pack what little you have," you whisper, leaving him after.

Hongbin stands before you. You both stand before the door out. You hold the scissors against the last thread.
"Ready?" You question, meeting his brown eyes.
"Yeah," he confirms, a resting smile on his face. He swings his pack over his back.
You snip the thread. A jolt moves through the both of you. The red, heart-shaped patch falls to the ground.
"I guess this is goodbye then," he decides, shifting the bag.
"I guess. Goodbye Hongbin," you whisper, opening the door.
"Goodbye Mistress," he speaks, stepping through the threshold. You nod slowly, as a scream rips in the air. He stops, and turns to you. "What is that?"
"Nothing," you deny, as the wailing continues. He brushes passed you. He runs up the stairs, dropping his bag along the way. You chase after him. He stops at a door, and pushes his way inside.
"What?" He gasps, looking inside. You stop beside him. You watch his eyes roam over the pastel blue walls, the white carpeted floors, the toys and wall decorations meant for a child.
"Take off your shoes before coming in," you demand, entering the room. You walk to the white crib, and pick up the small child inside.
"Did you kidnap child?! It wasn't enough to have adults as dolls?!" Hongbin snaps, attempting to keep his voice down.
"Shut up. I'm trying to get him back to sleep," you combat, rocking the boy in your arms.
"You need to give him back to his parents," Hongbin says, looking over him.
"I am his mother," you explain, bouncing on your toes. He stills. You huff, as you pull your son closer.
"Mother?" He asks, pulling off his shoes, once he unfreezes.
"Yeah," you confirm, as your son blinks his eyes open.
"What's his name?" Hongbin asks, walking closer.
"Hongjeo," you speak.
"Hong? That's my first syllable," Hongbin speaks, as Hongjeo looks over at him. He blinks, and his deep, brown eyes turn to a soft pair of crosses.
"I'm aware," you acknowledge, gauging his reaction.
"How?"
"He got them from his father."
Hongbin's eyes widen, as Hongjeo shuts his own. You finish rocking him, and lay him back in his crib.
"Am I his father?" Hongbin questions, looking over at him.
"Yeah," you confirm. He moves back, and blinks rapidly. He sinks to the floor, and leans against a wall.
"How? When?" He questions, looking up at you.
"After pulling you back. During your punishment and reward. I needed to care for him," you whisper, looking over him.
"Is this why you became nice? Did you have him scream just so I'd stay?" He snaps. You shake your head.
"You weren't supposed to stay," you confess, looking down at Hongjeo.
"Why?"
"I wanted you to leave. I don't want to explain the rooms to him, and who you were to me," you say, looking back to Hongbin.
"But he's my son," he presses.
"I know!" You yell. Hongjeo squirms at your tone. You hold your breath, but he doesn't awaken. "I know."
He stands and walks over. "He is beautiful," he whispers, reaching down and running the backs of his fingers over Hongjeo's cheeks.
"Yeah. Like his father," you speak, looking down at Hongjeo with him. Hongbin laughs, as rests his hands on the bars of crib. He shakes his head.
"How about this? I find a place to settle down, and come by to see him. He'll have both of his parents, and I don't have live near this place of nightmares," Hongbin suggests, looking at you. You look down at Hongjeo. He deserves at least that. You nod slowly.
"Deal?"
"Deal."

A/N: If the voodoo lady doesn't do this. Well, the part. She probably really is crazy. (-<) <3 ^_^