Characters: Bang Yongguk x You
“Why don’t you stay with your father for a while?” asks your mum from the other end of the phone, “you might even enjoy yourself.” You answer with silence, the phone lying next to you untouched, your arms folded tightly across your chest. A defeated sigh escapes from your mother, and you shift in your seat, sensing an end to the conversation.
“Just… think about it, ok?” she says before hanging up, the hope in her voice still ever present.
You leap up as if electrocuted, one hand switching the phone off and the other grabbing your keys. Slamming the door shut, you quickly make your way down the stairs, your balled fists stuffed in the pockets of your jacket. Once outside, you cross the road before sitting on the edge of the aged wooden bench beside the pavement, your mind swimming with thoughts.
Looking down, you place your fingers over the camera strapped around your neck, it’s solid weight and cool touch instantly comforting you.
With a swift motion you’d completed thousands of times before, you quickly snap a picture of the ancient redbrick building facing you. A sudden urge to run back in and seek refuge in its familiar surroundings grips you before you push it down, knowing that it wouldn’t do you any good. That your mother is right. That she’s always right. Placing the camera back to rest against your chest, you chew your lip in thought before reaching for your phone and dialling your dad.
He picks up after one ring, the suprise in his voice evident as he says your name.
Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves before telling him the news.
You spot him instantly in the packed arrivals hall, his suit as pristine as ever. He looks less stressed, the frown lines between his brows less pronounced as he finds you amongst the crowd. His eyes light up and he begins to walk briskly towards you, his arms opening for an embrace.
“Hey dad,” you smile against his shoulder as he envelpes you in a warm hug, genuinely happy to see him. You deeply inhale the scent of his cologne, your smile widening as it brings forth memories from your childhood.
“You’ve grown,” he observes, finally letting go and holding you at arms length.
“I would think so,” you chuckle, “it has been 3 years.”
“Come on,” he says, taking your bags and heading towards the exit, “you must be tired.”
Just then, a sudden commotion causes you to look back, the frantic flash of light from various cameras dancing over the walls. A group of people seem to be surrounding a few boys, their faces covered by masks. A brief gap in the crowd allows you a clear view of one of them, his eyes locking with yours for a second. Before you can react, your father calls for you to hurry up and you turn back, already forgetting about the boy with the dark eyes.