call me by my name | binjin

8. Close & Closer.

I think it took longer than anticipated...but here it is. In this chapter, we get a little more insight into our mcʼs lives and... a little something else. ;) leave a review!

The terror in Yejinʼs eyes did not go unnoticed by Bin. Even though his hand was enclosed around that of her fatherʼs, his gaze did not either from the girl next to him, not even for a second. Subconsciously, Yejin fisted his blazer in her hands, her knuckles turning white. There was an ambiguous, if not a definitive message, something he was missing in the bigger picture here.

“It is very nice to meet you, sir.” Bin composed himself. His hand ached to go behind his back and entwine fingers with her but he knew that was not possible, surely not in front of the man regarding him with the cold face. His eyes were stern. Upon further ponder, he realized they were not even trained on him, rather on his daughter. He didnʼt make a motion to speak, let alone acknowledge his existence but he was nice enough to shake hands, at the very minimum. Bin also realized that he was not only meeting Yejinʼs father but also, the director of their very own university. He had read stories about people, mainly from Minho, how starstruck people were upon meeting the man. For Bin, the case was quite the opposite. Yejin had given him more than a few scattered clues unintentionally, and be was not blind enough to ignore the clear signs of warning himself.

“Get inside.” he barked.

It was an order. An order that Yejin followed immediately. With her head bowed and his blazer clutched tight to her chest, without as much as a second glance at him, she was already running inside.

He watched her retreating frame with wistful eyes. If anything, Bin had hoped to bid her goodbye at the very least. But that was out of the question now.

“Are you Hyun Bin?” her father surprised him with his name. Bin made a motion to widen his eyes before forcing a firm but staggered yes from his throat.

“So you are the one teaching that spoiled brat.” he marked, stroking the harsh scruff on his chin. The words he chose for her triggered him, elicitng a small sigh that went unnoticed by the man in question himself. “Kang told me about you. There was some student he spoke extremely high of who would teach that lost cause. Son,” though he was a tall man himself, Bin felt smaller against his harsh words and the plain hateful aura he exuded. It was so easy to judge— five minutes was enough time for him to conclude that he did not like this man. Even if he did not like Yejin, he would have still had the same thoughts.

“Why are you wasting your time on her? I tell you,” he gave him a small slap on the shoulder before pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his burgundy overcoat. Bin watched him in painfully slow motion; how he took out the cigarette and even offered him one.

“I donʼt smoke, sir.” he was too kind to bark up an answer, so he did what he knew best— being polite.

He gave him a solemn expression. One that said something along the lines of what a puss, before taking a drag himself. The smoke blown on his face was thick and black, above all, it had a secret message for him too— that the director did not like him.

But he could care less.

Binʼs mind was only in one place right and that was the girl inside the house. Vaguely, he recalled the fear in her eyes, the way her fingers clenched around the fabric in her hands. It was indeed a peculiar notion upon seeing one of your parents. He knew because he had experienced it for himself, too. All those nights when the bickering between his parents got too loud and he would have to press his ears into the pillow, the days when he got back from school/college and he would see them in a physical fight when heʼd try to break them apart. As a mere nine year old, what could one expect from the boy? Nobody wanted to choose between their father and mother, every child wanted them happy under one roof, together.