Scarcely opening the door of his room, Jin tries to get a clear vision of the living room as he peeks from inside with one eye and cautiously surveys every corner that his sight was able to reach from left to right.
His breath turns heavy, mildly shivering as he continues to study and monitor the befallen silence that plunged inside their apartment after he hears the entrance door shut.
Hiro . . .
He must have left by now.
Gulping hesitatingly, the young fellow opens the door of his room wide and slowly takes a step out. He was soon greeted by his mother who just left the foyer and seems to be heading straight towards the kitchen if she didn't see him coming out.
"I'm sorry, dear. Hiro says he has to leave tonight's dinner to us."
His mother approaches him. Her warm and loving arms embraces him and all Jin could do was to blink innocently and kept his mouth shut about the matter. However, he bites his lower lip in relief. He thought he was going to be the one explaining to her about Hiro's departure and it makes him queasy after overthinking what reaction would she make at the moment she'll hear about it.
Too bad, his mother seems to be looking forward to eating together with Hiro.
"I see . . ." But Jin couldn't fake the melancholy in his voice. He, too, was looking forward to it.
Their separation has truly left a sudden and odd change in him even if he only did spend a few hours with him and yet to his surprise he didn't truly know that he had grown this closely attached to him.
The truth is, he probably knew earlier than his mother that Hiro couldn't make it to dinner because he said so and he was in his room before he decided to leave.
Jin glances up and stares at the ceiling, causing a few from his healthy strands of hair to fall back. And he watches himself slowly sinking deeper, drowning and yearning like he was trapped inside a box with no way out and was dropped off to the depths of the cold ocean.
His chest tightens and this time the pain felt different and unfamiliar.
He looks around and it's unavoidably a bit depressing even though he knew the man would eventually leave for his flight.
He succumbs himself to the fresh memory of him. His head clouded with all the smiley faces he burned of Hiro's shy, mischievous, and warm smiles.
He had learned to like them all, even his cold and formal ones.
To be fully attracted to such beautiful flame was not hard, because the moth itself is truly blinded and bewitched by its unique warmth.
Yes . . . He admits it.
Hiro's bewitched him, wholly and profoundly deep.
He had fallen by the hole harder than he thought he would, but it doesn't hurt nor the darkness was discomforting.
Because it didn't feel as lonely as he imagined.
He had two warm arms around him, protecting and holding him closely.
They were indeed alone . . . but alone together.
And he couldn't imagine how those beautiful lips of his can move so passionately against his . . .
"Sweetheart?" Asami place her hand worriedly on her child's forehead as her other was placed flatly on her anxious chest, extremely worried. "Are you feeling sick?"
Why is his face so red?
"A-Ani," (N-No) said Jin, his eyes half-closed and in a daze. He slowly wrap his arms around his mother's body and lean his cheek against her shoulder hiding the redness of his face and the small smile on his lips, "I'm just a little overwhelmed . . . and hungry."
But maybe not for food . . .
His mother lovingly strokes his hair at the back of his head and gleefully swayed their bodies from side to side. Her smile was as wide and as bright as the sparkling ocean view from the glass wall of their apartment. Aigoo, my baby.
"Alright, shall we eat then?"
Jin leans away and held his mother's hand, "Yes. I'm famished."
To his surprise, he never felt his body this drained after trying to survive throughout the entire day and perhaps his intense feeling of being overwhelmed and dominated has mentally and emotionally depleted his energy.
And it's all thanks to a certain someone.
He briefly shuts his eyes for a silent prayer.
Please be safe.
Asami chuckles and drags him to the kitchen, giddy for the cake she brought him. My, my, is this a sign of improvement? He said he was hungry.
Her iced cinnamon roll is hungry . . .
"Well, that's a first." She smiles and wraps his arms around his, also silently praying.
God, please do let this change take place more often.
______________
In the peaceful and quiet apartment on the fifth floor, two bodies can be seen inside the completely lit kitchen pantry. One belonged to a woman dressed in her flower-patterned apron and the other belonged to a young foe who's freshly showered and comfortable on his white linen shirt and gray pajamas.
He was sitting prettily on one of the wooden chairs as his solemn and soft lilac eyes watched his mother move around the kitchen gracefully.
Jin leans his head against his crisscrossed arms above the table and placed his chin against his arm, a bit bored from waiting in silence.
He had personally volunteered a while ago that he would help her with the cooking, but his mother insisted on letting him rest and watch from the distance as she repeatedly told him she doubts he was fine after seeing the flush expression on his face from a moment ago.
Jin retrieves his chin and slumps his forehead against his arm instead to cover his once again flushed face. Even though he's fully aware of how red must it have become, it would always burn when his heart and blood start to nervously and abnormally accelerate inside him.
If his mother were to know what exactly is running inside his now inhumane thoughts, how would she react?
"So you weren't able to take Mochi to the vet?"
Asami dips the spoon in her hand into the saucepan, tasting the thick sauce she made and she nods as it was perfectly done before she happily turns off the stove.
Today, they'll be having pasta!~
She sighs, it's truly a shame that peculiar boy couldn't get a chance to taste her cookery. Well, she thought the number one way to a man's heart is through his stomach. She was planning on impressing that stern child with her warm cooking when she heard he once loved the homemade dishes made by his past mother.
Aiyaa . . .
"Yes, I couldn't," Jin replied, sighing deeply after hearing the audible scratches and barks from a moment ago had now stopped and the entire apartment had completely drowned in a comfortable and homey silence.
"I can see that," Asami replied, smiling.
Well it can't be helped, they had a guest at home, so it was unnecessary for him to leave for Mochi's needs and besides at least he was here inside, unharmed and safe at the same moment where the whole building was under alert to find leading traces of the culprit for the case.
She sprinkles a bit of pepper above the sauce and mixed it well with her spatula, "Did Jihyuk say he'll come?" Because he'll have his share of the pasta she recently learned from Mrs. Yen.
She thought it was necessary to start learning more westernized dishes from now on if she wants to mend her classy future husband's needs. At the very least, she's more confident of her skills in the kitchen than in the office.
Jin glances at the dark foyer where a translucent lamp beside the door was the only source of light emitting as it illuminates faintly towards the living room, "Probably in a while."
He did receive a short message from him that he'll come a bit late.
He thought he would be in the apartment earlier after their embarrassing argument inside the campus. Ah. Thinking about it, guilt starts to slowly eat him up. Was he too harsh on him? But his meddling issues have crossed the line this time. Though he was clear on the part where he told him they'll see each other at home, but he neither came nor messaged him since then.
Only did he decide one about five minutes ago.
He stares at the screen of his phone, depressingly staring at hyuk's last message.
Mr. Snob: Later.
Is it just him or this time, his displayed nickname truly suits his mood right now?
Looks like he's really mad.
"Sweetheart, did you perhaps bump or met someone suspicious on your way home?" Asami clears her throat and tried to act and sound as calm and natural as possible as she pours the sauce over the large serving platter.
Jin averts his gaze to his mother and tilts his head, his cheek squeezed and pressed against his arm.
Suspicious? Perhaps . . . "Is it related to the incident earlier?"
Asami immediately turns to him, almost spilling the sauce to the floor if she hasn't flipped the pan over, "What incident?" She absentmindedly yelled and it was now too late for her to not sound as worried as she truly is right now.
Did something actually happen?