⋆daddy issues⋆ markhyuck

I.X

The professor adjusted her sleeve once more before continuing, "The best way to find the root of these behaviours and these behavioural issues, is to talk to them. It's that simple. That's the only way you can know for sure. Now, this class only teaches you how to analyze this behaviour. From what you will learn here, you can diagnose an illness without any verbal contact with the person," And she emphasized this part, "Or you can find their reasons out from them-themselves and then conclude why that causes them to react in the way that the do- why they live their daily lives the way they do- why they treat other people the way they do." She paused in her pacing, leaning onto the brown table. "That's the one I would recommend. One, it's more accurate; but most importantly, it helps you. It makes you have to confront your fears."

The words nagged him the entire day. He assumed he had imagined it as it seemed to be purposed for him, words he needed to hear. It left a heavy taint on his heart that, no matter what he did, just wouldn't go away.

So that's how he ended up here. 

Standing in front of tallest gates he'd ever seen- with his palpitating heart in hands, as if for sacrifice....or maybe a peace offering.

His father's law firm. 

The hardest thing was stepping through those walls, to an unfamiliar space, where he felt unprotected- more so, targeted. He was the target on his own father's land. 

It's almost as if he walked in slow motion; as his father had almost no movement, no reaction to his own blood standing in front of him. His heart was in his throat, but that was expected; this is something he never thought he ever would -even could- do but just off the fleeting whim of I just want to understand why you hate me, he found himself there. 

Vulnerable to attack

His father was just seated, his fingers placed in front of his face, guarding a solemn expression. That's not what he expected, he was anticipating rage. He toyed with the large seat directly in front of his father before swallowing his heart and plopping down.

"Good morning, sir." He's surprised he was able to make a sound; it was meek. Looking anywhere but in front, Donghyuck eyed his father's office. It was grey, drab and almost empty except for a tall file cabinet and the glass table and five chairs that swivelled around it. The room itself looked depressed; it reminded him of himself. 

"Ho- is- how's your life?" Donghyuck is able to force out, anything to avoid what he was actually here for. He dares himself to meet his father's eyes and when he does, there's two orbs of cold wrath staring back at him. It's enough to knock the breath clean from his lungs. He sputters to breathe. 

"What are you here for? You've never come to see me before." There isn't the normal mock to his tone, but it's only Donghyuck's first semester in his major; he doesn't know how to detect the meaning behind tone of voice yet. It's a dubious conclusion, but he sounds regretful. Donghyuck dismisses the thought though, that's not possible. 

"What-" He plays with his fingers on the hem of his shirt, he diverts his eyes. "What's your problem with me?"

"You're worthless, Donghyuck. I've told you this before" His voice is still calm but it no longer holds the emotion Donghyuck recognized as regret only a few seconds earlier. 

He's been in a desolate, boring room with his father for an approximate five minutes so far and he's already biting back tears. It's like when he saw his father for the last time, four years ago, as he blamed his future absence on a fourteen year old Donghyuck.

He didn't cry though. He was determined not to let this man see him cry ever again. He just wanted an answer, no matter how harsh it would be, just so he could leave with a knowing mind.