Red Strings

Red Strings 8/?

"Sweetheart, that's not the issue at hand." His mother's voice chided, "What's wrong? Why're you crying, Taekwoon-ah?You're making us worry."

He took in a deep breath as he tried to calm himself, his heart racing with pain pumping in his veins. Everything was so numbing as he stared at his parents. "I-I-I'm so s-sorry." his voice cracked as he apologized, shaking his head as his eyes shut tight, hanging down in shame.

He opened his eyes as he felt his mother's hands on his own, his fingers subconsciously gripping at the phone tighter. She crouched down in front of him, worry etched in the wrinkles of her forehead.

"Honey, for what? What's happening?" She cooed softly, a hand caressing his hair gently before her thumb wiped away streaks of tears only for new ones to be made.

"I-I'm so sorry." He grabbed her hand, holding it to his cheek as he cried. "I broke our promise. I s-should've told you when I did, but I-I was so scared."

"Broke our promise? You went outside? Did you meet someone? Is that why have this? Did they hurt you?! Taekwoon, answer me. Is someone behind the reason why you're crying?" His mother stood up, towering over him and never had he felt so small.

"Y-Yes." He closed his eyes in guilt once more, "Yes, I-I went outside. Not because I wanted to!" He shook his head as he stared up at his parents.

"But you still did! A-And.. and you didn't tell us." His mother took her hand back as she stared at him in disbelief, stared at him like he was a stranger she just met, not the good boy she raised him to be.

"I met someone." He bit out.

"And they're the reason why you have this phone? Are they the reason why you're crying?"

"Mom... D-Dad.." He hiccuped, placing the phone in his lap as he gripped at the wristband that had been covering the black ink embedded into his skin.

K.W.S.

Just seeing those letters were enough to make the waterworks start again, pouring out of him in waves of sorrow.

"Taekwoon!" His father's voice was trembling in shock and anger. "You m-met... you met this, this, this person. And they're the reason?" His father was huffing, turning to his mother. "How did you not know of this sooner?"

"Don't blame this on me! I knew as much as you did, nothing!" She started, pointing an accusing finger but before they could start their banter, Taekwoon cut in.

"He's in the hospital." He sniffled as they quieted down, "He's.. H-He's hurt real bad a-and his friend is taking him to the hospital." There was a pause before he looked up at the two of them, desperation in his eyes. "Please.. Please take me there."

Taekwoon sat there, body trembling as he stared at the white wall across from him, feeling as blank as it was.

It was cold.

Everything was oddly cold.

The sterilized smell that surrounded him stung his nose, the scent being unpleasant and bringing a nauseous feeling to the pit of his stomachs.

He opted to slouching down in the more or less uncomfortable chair, digging his nose into the sweater he was wearing that wasn't his own, the familiar scent of spice giving him some peace of mind. He twirled his fingers together before pulling the sleeves passed his fingertips, warming them within the fabric.

His eyes felt puffy and swollen, his throat felt sore and his head was throbbing but he put it all aside; Wonsik was in a state much worse than his own. He had no place to complain about his own discomforts when the man he had feelings for were behind those doors fighting for his life.