Min Jae watched him, his own heart a hollowed-out drum. He saw the tremor in Seo-jun's shoulders, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling Seo-jun's back flush against his chest. He rested his chin on Seo-jun's shoulder, holding him tight as if he could physically keep him from shattering.
"He's safe," Min Jae murmured into the shell of his ear, the words a mantra, a prayer. "He's with your parents. He is safer there than he has ever been with us."
A ragged, broken sound tore from Seo-jun's throat. He turned in Min Jae's arms, burying his face against his neck, his body shaking with silent, violent sobs. It was the release of four years of fear, of yesterday's terror, and the fresh, searing pain of this necessary goodbye.
