Pandora's Box

Chapter 15

Beomgyu's expression was unreadable, until he smiled softly and tilted his head to the side. "Why? If you don't mind telling me."

I do was his automatic response, but before he could utter the words he took in the person standing beside him. Beomgyu's warm eyes, kind smile, his hand still resting on Taehyun's.

It was a truth that left him speechless. This was an entirely unknown emotion for the son of the Underworld.

Even Kai had to force answers out of him most days. But here, in the art studio, the place he felt most safe already...

It struck him that he didn't mind. For the first time, he wanted to open up.

"My mom used to sing me that song, when she was still around." His voice was low and starting to break, but it didn't matter. Beomgyu was hanging onto every word.

"I think the lyrics, and the melody remind me of her. Of her warmth. She had this incredible warmth." He couldn't help but feel unrecognizable at how much he was talking, but the other had wedged a subject he would always go on about. "It's the most I remember about her, other than..."

He took a breath, the boy to his side patient for his continuation. "She would always tell me stories, in the form of songs."

"And then one day she stopped?"

Beomgyu had finished it for him, some form of understanding laced through the words. Taehyun nodded. "Yeah. One day she stopped." He couldn't read the other's eyes, but he knew something existed in them that was familiar. Something that knew exactly what he was saying.

Something burned in his heart at the thought of the other experiencing the same loss he had. Especially being told it wasn't your real mother. The feeling grew, then suddenly turned icy.

Icy, white, blinding pain overtook him as he dropped to the floor.

This was no empathy.

Beomgyu was at his side in a second, a fact that he seemed to register even in the midst of his misery. The other's words were blurry, fading as Taehyun slipped into the feeling of death.

"Taehyun, what can I do? Please, tell me. How can I help?" Desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. He could only hear the sounds of a wheel spinning out of control, a machine sliding against ice, the crash against a pole. Vehicles crashing around the noise, the dial of emergency.

It faded after a few seconds, the ache leaving a dull hum throughout his chest that left Taehyun panting.

"A... car crash. Someone just died in a car crash."

He sounded consumed with guilt, even without a hand in the mortal's demise. Beomgyu placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off within a second.

"Stop. This isn't something I get pity for. It's bad enough I can't do anything to help them, I don't deserve sympathy above everything."

He stood abruptly, but Beomgyu was unrelenting. He grabbed Taehyun's wrists, forcing him to meet the warm eyes he was starting to know too well.

"Taehyun. Listen to me." He grabbed Taehyun's jaw and forced eye contact, ignoring the way the other's breath hitched. He was surely going to melt into the floor. "What you go through sucks ass. And it doesn't matter what you're feeling." Taehyun's heart had started thudding against his chest, the organ almost touching Beomgyu's.

"I know humans. They wouldn't think it's fair that you have to share this pain. If nothing else, you at least deserve a little sympathy."

He remained silent, Beomgyu loosening the grip on his chin. He sighed, never breaking away from Taehyun's eyes. "It's not your fault. You shouldn't have to deal with it on your own."

Flashes of familiarity enveloped him. A moment he'd tried to push down to forget, the memory aged over twelve years.

"Please. I can't deal with it alone."

"It's not my fault she's gone."

"At least help me through this. As my father."

"The curse is your fault, Taehyun. I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"...Fine. Nothing measures up to the curse of being your son, anyway."

*SLAP*

Standing in front of the other, he was vaguely aware of the tears forming in his eyes. He prayed the other wasn't. 

Beomgyu stepped slightly away from him, eyes still offering assistance. "My mom used to tell me stories too."

The abrupt subject change was disorienting, until Taehyun recognized it for what it was: a comforting distraction from their overwhelming existence.

"She was so good at making it seem like she'd created the stories herself. Until I was ten, I thought she wrote Cinderella."

To both of their surprise, Taehyun let a hoarse laugh escape him. Beomgyu took the encouragement, smiling as he continued. "She wasn't warm, but she was constant. She made me feel normal. Until recently."

Taehyun didn't let his eyes leave Beomgyu's frame. "It's what I miss about her the most." The other's eyes were staring intensely at the table.

"But one thing she never let me forget was that she would always be my mother. That, no matter how far away she was, I could carry my stories with her and feel like she was here with me." He met Taehyun's eyes, unwavering.

"I can't explain to you how glad I am that I gave you that feeling. That sense of wholeness. That sense of...home."

Taehyun didn't know what to say in response. He was stupidly speechless. His only idea of words came out before he could think about it. "What was her name?"

Beomgyu stilled in surprise for a moment at the question, but quickly regained his composure. "Seojun," he replied, smiling again.

A myriad of circumstances could've made Taehyun believe what was painfully, obviously, so, what had been evident from the moment he'd gone with Beomgyu to the nurse, the other unaffected by his accompaniment. Unafraid.

But it was that specific moment that made him realize. That moment that forced the truth down his throat.

That, despite the looming battle, despite everything he'd hoped and tried, he was already absorbed by the other. He was already unwilling to kill him.

Unwilling to be the reason the world lost that warmth.