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sulhee wasn't exactly sure what to expect as she entered the jung's household, but one thing she was sure of was the reason for her palms sweating so horrifically. they were shaking, too, the teen having to lace her fingers together in her hoodie pocket in an attempt to get them to stop.
it had been a while since she'd seen mrs jung. part of her feels like she's been subconsciously avoiding the jung house in general, but her previous chats with the older woman had actually been of some help to her.
she didn't know what to expect this time though, so she braced herself for anything happening, from meltdowns to just friendly chatter.
who was she kidding? the former was bound to happen.
her fingers wrapped around eachother firmer as she made her way up the stairs. aera's bedroom was to the left, the door wide open and the girl's mother sat on her bed, gaze fixated on the floor. sulhee debated leaving as a thread of grief seemed to wrap its way around her heart, but she pushed forward, making her way into the bedroom, but not before knocking on the door.
the older woman's head perked up and twisted to the side almost like a meerkat, a feigned smile on her lips. sulhee could read a fake smile anywhere.
she herself had become quite the master of those lately.
"oh, honey- hi! you alright?" mrs jung asked. it was then that the teen realised the older woman probably had zero clue as to why she was even there. "if you're wanting sungie hes resting-"
"no, no!" the noirette cut her friend's mother off rather harshly. she internally scolded herself before toning down her voice. "i was hoping i could just come and sit for a bit?"
the older woman cracked a more convincing smile - sulhee was almost certain it was a real one this time - before patting the bed besides her.
"you're always welcome to, sul. come. sit."
mission: cheer up mrs jung. step one? complete.
now for the hard part.
as she sat down besides the older woman, she attempted to relax. her hands were no longer firmly knit together, instead balled into fists as a warm sensation spread across her palms. it took the teen a minute to realise that after knocking on the door, her hands had remained balled up as she stuffed them in her pockets.
and the warm sensation?
her own blood, spilling from the crescent moons scattered across the palms of her hands.
