Chapter 27
The man was already grumbling when Jaeyel returned to his room, arms full of books.
“What took you so long?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes softened when they landed on the stack in Jaeyel’s arms.
Jaeyel smiled faintly as he placed them on the side table.
“You’ve already made me retell every story I have from when I was a kid. I figured you’d want something new, so I brought these. No need to rush anymore.”
The man huffed, pretending to be irritated.
“So what, you’re slacking now? Just because I’m not strict with you?”
“Maybe,” Jaeyel teased lightly, adjusting the blanket on the chair, the warm colors of sunset spilling softly through the room.
The man watched him in silence. His gaze lingered, warm, almost paternal.
In this quiet space, it passed between them as naturally as breathing.
Then-
A sudden knock broke the fragile stillness.
The door creaked open.
Both Jaeyel and the man turned, startled.
…
Jaeyel’s voice came first, sharper than intended.
“…What are you doing here?”
The man’s lips parted as if to ask the same thing, but then he simply said the name, low and heavy.
“…Yang.”
Jaeyel’s head whipped toward him, eyes wide in shock. “You… know him?”
Yang stood at the door, eyes moving between the two of them.
And then, so rare it nearly unsettled them both, his lips curved into a faint smile. A short, low laugh escaped him, the sound almost foreign.
“You two…” He tilted his head, gaze cool yet amused. “Quite the combination.”
The man frowned, but Jaeyel was the first to break the silence, voice hesitant.
“Do you… know each other?”
The man turned his face toward the window, refusing to meet Jaeyel’s gaze.
Yang sighed, the sound casual, almost careless.
“He’s my father.”
The words landed like a stone in Jaeyel’s chest.
His eyes went round, disbelief written across his face.
Yang’s gaze flickered toward him, and he thought Jaeyel’s shock looked… adorable.
The man finally turned back, catching Jaeyel’s expression and raising a hand as if to ward it off.
“Don’t look at me like that. I had no idea you and him knew each other until recently. So stop- stop staring…”
“…What kind of look?” Jaeyel muttered, but he caught himself, shaking his head.
“Never mind. What I should be asking is… what are you doing here?” His eyes moved back to Yang, guarded.
Yang’s reply was immediate, steady. “I’m here for you.”
The father’s lips pressed into a thin line. “So not even a visit.”
Jaeyel let out a small sigh, tension pressing between his brows.
“I’ll take him outside,” he murmured.
He started toward the door, but before he could leave, the man’s voice rang out, firm, commanding.
“Yang.”
Jaeyel froze.
The tone was so different from the strict but gentle one he knew. It was hard, sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
Yang’s eyes flickered toward him.
Jaeyel understood instantly.
Without a word, he excused himself and slipped out of the room, leaving the two alone.
The silence hung for a beat.
Yang spoke first, his tone low, restrained.
“I know what you’re going to say. You don’t need to worry. I won’t… do anything.”
The man studied him quietly, then leaned back against his pillows, voice dropping to something softer.
“Take care of him. He’s… a good kid.”
Yang turned, already stepping toward the door. His reply came almost like a whisper, so faint the man almost wondered if he’d imagined it.
“I know…”
And then he was gone.
The room was still again.
The man reached for one of the books Jaeyel had left him, fingers brushing its cover slowly, as though anchoring himself to the warmth Jaeyel had carried into his life.
Jaeyel stood outside the hospital doors, arms tucked close against himself as the dusk breeze brushed his skin.
The hum of the city carried faintly in the distance, but here, everything felt still, suspended.
His chest tightened at every passing second until footsteps broke the quiet.
Yang.
His figure emerged from the glow of the corridor lights, each stride steady, unhurried.
When his eyes found Jaeyel, his expression softened, the sharpness he wore with others dissolving.
He stopped in front of him, gaze deep, as if drinking him in.
“Come,” Yang said gently, almost like a plea. “Let’s talk.”
…
They walked side by side, silence stretching between them, until the small hospital park came into view.
A bench waited beneath the trees, their branches swaying lightly in the air.
They sat.
Neither spoke, as though words might shatter the fragile calm pressing between them.
Finally, Yang’s voice broke through, low and careful.
“Are you… ready?”
Jaeyel’s fingers clenched in his lap.
He thought of the past, of the warmth he had just begun to taste here, of the weight waiting for him once he returned.
He shook his head, voice quiet but firm.
“No.”
Silence.
Yang’s eyes lingered on him, patient, unwavering.
But then Jaeyel inhaled slowly, forcing the next words out.
“But… I’ll go back. I think… I need to face it now.”
For a long moment, Yang said nothing.
His gaze moved over Jaeyel’s profile, the curve of his jaw, the way his shoulders sagged as though carrying both fear and resolve.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but there was a hesitation there, uncharacteristic, almost vulnerable.
“Once we’re back… there’s something I’ll tell you.”
His eyes searched Jaeyel’s, dark with a weight that almost frightened him.
“…And whatever your decision is, I’ll- ” he paused, struggling, his throat tightening on the words. “I’ll try to respect it.”
Jaeyel didn’t look at him.
His eyes tilted toward the sky, its quiet stars blurred by the heaviness pressing inside him.
The word slipped out soft, resigned, almost carried away by the wind.
“…Okay.”
The silence returned, heavier than before, but neither of them moved.
Both waiting, both bracing for the storm that would come once they left this fragile pocket of peace behind.
…
