It was a quiet Sunday morning, one of those rare mornings where everything felt peaceful. Jun had arrived early with coffee, and Seong had stayed the night. The tension of the past few days was melting away, leaving us in this bubble of warmth and comfort in my small apartment. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over everything. It felt like the world outside didn't exist for a moment.
I was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of porridge, and Jun, as usual, couldn't resist teasing me.
"You call this breakfast?" he said, grinning as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his lips brushing the back of my neck.
I laughed, elbowing him lightly. "You better be thankful I'm cooking at all."
Jun's warmth pressed against me was intoxicating, his hands sliding over my hips, teasing as they lingered. I leaned back against him, the smell of his cologne mixing with the scent of breakfast. Before I knew it, I was turning to face him, and he captured my lips in a slow, deep kiss. The sensation left my heart racing, warmth flooding my body as I melted into him.
Seong was sitting on the couch, sipping his coffee, watching us with his usual calm, his eyes locked on us, filled with a quiet intensity that made my knees weak. He never said much, but his presence spoke volumes. The way his gaze followed us sent shivers down my spine, and before I knew it, I found myself caught in the current of the moment.
Jun's lips parted from mine, his breath hot against my cheek. "You taste like coffee," he murmured, sending another wave of heat through me. But before I could respond, Seong stood up from the couch and walked toward us. There was something magnetic in his gaze, something that made me ache for him without a word being spoken.
Without hesitation, Seong tilted my chin upward and kissed me softly, the touch of his lips slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of me. His kiss was different from Jun's—calm, steady, but just as consuming. The three of us had a rhythm, an unspoken connection that made moments like these feel natural.
But our bubble was about to burst.
The sound of the door opening behind us shattered the moment. I pulled back from Seong, my heart leaping into my throat as I turned to see who it was. My parents—my strict, conservative parents—stood frozen in the doorway, shock and horror written across their faces.
My father, Eric Cartier, was the first to react. His eyes flicked between me, Jun, and Seong, taking in the scene. His face twisted with rage as his brain pieced together what he was seeing. My mother, Jacqueline Cartier, stood beside him, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief.
"Censia!" My father's voice thundered through the apartment, the sound of it making me jump. "What the hell is going on here?!"
I stepped back from Jun, my stomach flipping over as panic rushed through me. "Dad, it's not what you think—"
"It's exactly what I think!" he snapped, cutting me off. His face was bright red, his fists clenched at his sides. "You're in here with two men—two men—doing God knows what under my roof? Are you out of your mind, Censia?"
"This isn't your roof," I muttered, but it was too quiet for him to hear over his shouting.
Jun stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "Mr. Cartier, please, let's just take a moment to calm down and talk—"
"Don't you dare speak to me!" my father yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Jun. "You—whoever you are—get the hell out of my daughter's life! Both of you!"
I felt my breath hitch as my father's words cut into me, shame and panic swirling together. I wasn't ashamed of Jun or Seong, but I had never imagined this moment going like this. I had always known my parents wouldn't approve, but the fury in my father's eyes was overwhelming.
"Dad, you don't understand—" I tried again, my voice shaking.
"I understand perfectly!" my father interrupted, turning his rage back on me. "This is what you've been hiding? This filth? This depravity? What happened to you, Censia? We raised you better than this!"
I could feel the tears welling up, but I forced them back, trying to stand my ground. "You don't get to decide who I love, Dad!"
"Love?" He spat the word like it was poison. "This isn't love, it's a disgrace! You're throwing your life away for this—this ridiculous fantasy!"
Seong stepped in then, his calm demeanor still intact despite my father's tirade. "Mr. Cartier, with all due respect, Censia is an adult. She's making her own choices. You might not like them, but you don't have the right to control her."
My father turned on him, his face contorting with fury. "You shut your mouth!"
Before I even had time to react, my father swung. His fist connected with Seong's jaw, the sickening sound of the impact echoing through the room. I gasped
The moment froze. Seong stumbled back, his hand flying to his jaw where my father had struck him. I couldn't breathe. Everything inside me felt like it was shattering, the world collapsing into a pinpoint of rage and disbelief.
Jun lunged forward, ready to defend Seong, but I was faster. I stepped between them, my entire body trembling with fury. "How dare you," I hissed, my voice quaking as I looked my father dead in the eye.
"You can yell at me, you can judge me all you want, but you will not put your hands on anyone I love!" I shouted, my chest heaving as I struggled to hold back tears. "Get out of my house. Both of you."
My father's face twisted with a sneer. "This is what you've become? Throwing your life away for this… nonsense? For them?"
"Eric, stop," my mother finally whispered, but her words were barely audible. She stood behind him, clutching her purse, her face pale and unreadable.
My father ignored her, stepping closer, his voice cold and low. "You think these men love you? You think they're going to offer you a real life? You're a fool, Censia. A fool."
Something inside me snapped. "No, Dad. You're the fool if you think you get to decide how I live my life." My voice broke, but I pushed on. "You don't get to control me anymore. You don't get to tell me who I can or can't love."
His face hardened. "You'll regret this."
"I won't," I said, my voice suddenly calm, the fury giving way to a cold certainty. "I regret letting you control me for so long. Now, get out."
My father glared at me, his nostrils flaring. For a moment, I thought he might hit me too, but instead, he turned on his heel, yanking the door open. "Fine. But don't come crying to us when this all falls apart."
"Eric, please…" my mother tried again, her voice soft and pleading.
"Come on, Jacqueline," he snapped, storming out of the apartment. She hesitated for a second, looking at me with eyes full of sadness, but ultimately, she followed him, the door slamming behind them.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I stood there, shaking, my mind spinning from what had just happened. I had never spoken to my father like that before—never dared to stand up to him. But now… I had thrown them out of my life. Just like that. My family was gone.
The weight of it crashed down on me all at once, and my legs buckled. I collapsed onto the couch, burying my face in my hands as the tears finally spilled over. Everything I had been holding in came pouring out—fear, anger, grief.
I felt the cushions shift beside me, and a gentle hand rested on my back. "Censia…" Jun's voice was soft, full of concern. "Are you okay?"
"I-I don't know," I whispered through the tears. "I don't know if I can fix this."
Seong, despite the bruise forming on his jaw, knelt in front of me. "You stood up for yourself," he said quietly. "That's not something to regret."
"I just threw my parents out," I choked. "They… they'll never forgive me."
"They will," Jun said softly. "Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but they'll come around. And if they don't… we'll be here."
I wiped at my eyes, sniffling as I tried to pull myself together. But the reality of what I had just done was too much. I had always feared this moment—feared what my parents would think if they ever found out about me and Jun and Seong. And now, it had happened, and it was so much worse than I could have imagined.
"I feel like I just lost them," I whispered, staring at the floor.
"You didn't lose them," Seong said gently, taking my hand in his. "You stood your ground. That doesn't mean they're gone forever. They need time."
I nodded, but inside, the panic was still clawing at me. What if he was wrong? What if my father never forgave me? What if my mother never spoke to me again?
Jun wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. "No matter what happens, you're not alone, Censia. We're here. We're not going anywhere."
I leaned into him, my head resting against his chest as the tears started to slow. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this.
But even as they comforted me, I couldn't shake the nagging fear in the back of my mind. The fear that I had just set something into motion that I couldn't take back. That my family would never look at me the same way again.
And the worst part? I wasn't sure if I had the strength to handle it.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I stayed wrapped in the safety of Seong and Jun, barely able to think straight as my mind reeled from the confrontation with my parents. By the time the evening rolled around, I felt numb, the emotions too heavy to carry anymore.
Seong and Jun stayed the night again, but the mood was different now. We didn't speak much. They stayed close to me, never leaving my side, but the silence was heavy with unspoken worry.
As the night fell, I lay between them in bed, feeling their warmth surrounding me. Seong's arm draped over my waist, Jun's hand resting on my shoulder. But even in their embrace, my mind wouldn't quiet.
All I could think about was my father's words. His anger. His disappointment.
Was he right? Was I throwing my life away? Could I really have a future with both Jun and Seong? Or was I clinging to something impossible, something that would eventually fall apart?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the doubts, but they refused to leave.
The truth was, no matter how much I loved them, I was terrified. Terrified that this wouldn't last. That my father's words would come true—that I'd be left with nothing in the end.
And worst of all… I didn't know how to stop feeling that way.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of it all pressing down on me, I wondered if I had made the right choice.
Or if I had just lost everything that mattered to me.