COTTON CANDY SKIES | JIKOOK ✔

[🍬] Twenty-six

There's this saying that silence is deafening. And although Jeongguk has experienced it first hand before, he's never witnessed it to such a paralyzing severity. His world writhes - although softly - behind his closed eyes. His face is sheltered within the perfect cradle of his hands and it's with some guilt he finds safety there. But he has this persistent itch, wondering what state Jimin is currently in. And it comes to no surprise as he lifts his head to find that the blond headed boy is in roughly the same condition, teeth closing in on one of his nails.

This is strange not only for one but the both of them.

Jeongguk finds it within himself to study the faces of his mother and Jimin's father. In-su's otherwise shrewd eyes have rounded by the edges. He doesn't have that same hateful expression he harbored when they were standing in front of the house. And in fact he seems rather contemplative, picking at the thin skin around his nails. Based off of the stories he's heard about him, he doesn't seem to be the type of man to outwardly showcase his emotions - especially those of vulnerability. And without any words being exchanged, perhaps Jimin feels the same because his complexion is pallid, washed out by the consternation dawdling on his skin.

Myung-hee on the other hand doesn't appear to be the least bit concerned for the man sitting before her, much to the contrast of their interaction ten minutes ago. Her leg is crossed over the knee and her arms are woven just above her breasts. Surprisingly enough, however, her eyes are tapered into thin lines and her full lips just the same. Gaze cut and sharpened like a dagger, she's staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"Did you suddenly lose all capability to talk?" Myung-hee prods.

In-su swallows thickly and the movement is apparent in the deep bob of his adams apple. He loosens his tie, short of breath and not only that but excuses. He clearly doesn't know what to say. Not when all eyes are on him now. Not when he seems to have plenty more secrets than his son.

It doesn't help that Jeongguk and Jimin are still unaware of what their history is, and that alone does significantly at thickening the tension lingering in the air, heavy and pressuring.

"Myung-hee... can I speak to you alone?" The quietude to In-su's voice is a foreign prospect, certainly not any tone Jimin is used to.

"Absolutely not. Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of them. You aren't a a patron at the club currently. You're a man trying to pry happiness away from not only my son but Jimin as well," Myung-hee divulges.

It's an admission that has both Jeongguk and Jimin gaping. They finally take this time to glance at one another, equally appalled by such an unexpected revelation.

And In-su's nerves seem to have doubled as he peers after Jimin's colorless complexion.

The blond's eyes shake like frail leaves susurrating in the wind, grasp feeble on the branches that home them. His jaw writhes, molars grinding against each other as he thinks of what to say. His nails prod at his thighs, sinking deep while he mulls the situation over in his head. Each and every side of it. And yet Jeongguk can't do anything to quell his raging mind. All he can simply do is observe as he unfurls, anger in tow.

"Dad, what's she talking about?" Jimin is rising from the couch with eyes narrowing in recession toward the man in question.

"Yeah," Jeongguk starts, reflecting Jimin's actions in suit. "What are you guys talking about?" he prods in Myung-hee's direction.

And at this simple yet impossibly complicated question, something in his mother's contemplative eyes has shifted. The process of her anger ebbing away is a languid process. Her shoulders slack, molding into the back cushion of the couch. The prominent knot between her eyebrows vanish as well as the stiffened, coherent muscle in her jaw. This all happens simply because she's staring at her son.