The room was bathed in soft twilight, and the rain outside the window steadily beat against the glass, creating a rhythm similar to a ticking clock. Minjun sat on the couch, holding a cup of tea that had long gone cold. His fingers were gripping the porcelain so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
Hyuk entered quietly, almost unheard. He immediately noticed that Minjun's gaze was fixed on something past him, his shoulders tensed up. But he didn't say anything. He just sat down next to him, close enough to make it clear: I'm here.
The phone screen suddenly lit up. The name of his parents.
Minjun flinched. Everything in his chest tightened, and his breath caught. Hyuk noticed, but he remained silent. He only lightly touched Minjun's knee - a sign of support.
"Sorry," Minjun said in a near whisper and went into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
The phone in his hand vibrated insistently. He took a deep breath before answering:
"Hello..."
"Minjun," his father's voice was cold and even. "Do you remember what we talked about?"
"Yes..." he felt his throat constrict.
"How old are you?" his mother interjected, her tone sharp. "Do you think you can be a child forever? We gave you a roof over your head, an education. That's all. But if you've decided to live on your own - prove it."
"I'm trying..." Minjun said quietly, almost pleading.
"Trying?" his father scoffed briefly, heavily. "Trying means nothing without results. You want freedom? Fine. But don't you dare come to us when you fail."
"We won't pick you up," his mother added harshly. "You need to understand: if you've chosen your own path, there's no turning back."
The words hit him like a knife. Not a rejection. But a cold ultimatum. Each word was a stone settling on his shoulders.
"I... understand," Minjun exhaled.
The phone call ended abruptly, like a click of a lock. Minjun stood in the hallway, his back pressed against the cold wall. His fingers were still gripping the phone, but it felt like it was scorching his skin. Something in his chest was breaking - his breathing became ragged, and his eyes were clouded by a misty haze.
He tried to take a step - and his legs refused to listen. His throat tightened, and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. I need to breathe... just breathe... - but the air seemed to not reach his lungs.
At that moment, the door quietly opened.
"Minjun..." Hyuk's voice was soft and cautious.
Minjun tried to answer, but only a short, choked sound escaped his throat. He was trembling, his shoulders rising and falling too quickly.
Hyuk didn't ask questions. He walked over and immediately wrapped him in a tight hug. His palm rested on the back of Minjun's neck, the other on his back, pressing him closer.
"Listen to me," he whispered, leaning in close to his ear. His voice was low and even, like the very rhythm of his breathing. "Breathe in... and breathe out. With me."
Minjun sobbed, but obediently tried. The first inhale broke off, his chest tightened again. Then Hyuk held him a little tighter, and his palm on his back began to slowly glide up and down.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe with me. Inhale... exhale. One more time."
Gradually, his ragged breathing became longer, and his shoulders lowered a little. Minjun buried his face in Hyuk's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart make his own heart adjust.
"That's good... just like that. You're doing it," Hyuk whispered, not letting go.
Minjun clenched his shirt with his fingers, as if only that fabric was holding him in place. A few more deep breaths, and the buzzing in his head began to subside. Tears welled up in his eyes, but with them came relief.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered thickly.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Hyuk gently touched his cheek. "You don't have to be strong all the time."
Minjun looked at him - his eyes were still trembling, but they now reflected the light of the lamp, not just the darkness of his memories.
Silence filled the room again. But this time it wasn't heavy; it was protective.
Hyuk leaned in and kissed his forehead. Minjun closed his eyes, feeling the fear dissolve.
"How about we just go for a walk tomorrow?" Hyuk suggested when both of their breaths became even.
Minjun nodded, and for the first time in a long time, he smiled - a small, genuine smile. He understood: trust is born not from words, but from someone being there no matter what.