Not Your Lover (2PARK✔️)

Step Fourteen: Cursing

i'm not even gonna say any shit about Pentagon or Cube. Just know I've been angry crying for about thirty-six hours now. 

so excited for us to meet Taeseok! i've missed writing real drama into the story lol

.

Jihoon stands stock still beside me, his hand still raised at eye level, the sound of his knocks resonating in the chilled air. "Put your hand down," I whisper as the door unlocks from the other side. His hand slaps his thigh just as yellow light washes over us, warming the afternoon immediately.

A face I half-recognize comes into view, clearly a woman by the shriek that catapults itself forward before the figure can even attach itself to Jihoon. "My baby," she mutters adoringly, her pale arms wrapping tightly around Jihoon. His eyes meet mine over her shoulder, nervous despite the warm welcome.

"Hey, Mom." He lifts just one arm to wrap around her, stepping back after just a moment of the embrace. "Have you been taking care of yourself?"

The small woman looks up at her son, jerking her head to the side just like he does when avoiding a proper answer. "Of course, sweetheart." Her eyes wander to mine after a false smile is aimed up at her son, her cheeks dropping as she takes me in. "And who are you?"

"Park Woojin," I say quietly, bowing my head politely. "I was in town for business and Jihoon asked if I could join him on the trip home."

She hums, clearly not believing the excuse, but ushering the both of us inside nonetheless. "Well the least you can do is have a quiet meal with the family." She takes hold of Jihoon's arm as he enters after me, halting him at her side as she closes the door.

I pause as well, moving further into the house only when Jihoon waves me along. I step out of my shoes near the entrance before traipsing into a small living room in just my socks. The two guests of the hour are absent, so I sit myself on the edge of a warn-in sofa near what was once probably a fireplace. It's since been bricked up and sealed off to most likely fight the cold seasons and horrid rain of the spring.

Jihoon and his mother wander into the room after a few long breaths of silence, their absence giving me just enough time to give a good glance around the room. There are only a few photos scattered about, mostly of Jihoon and who I can only assume is his brother from their childhoods. They look alike, and I realize as his mother comes into view once again that he gets many features from his mother. It's no wonder I felt as if I'd recognized her upon first glance.

She gasps upon spotting me, waving for me to stand as she hurries over to me. Jihoon follows on her heels, going as far as to yank me up by my sleeves when he reaches my side. "What-"

"That's Father's spot," Jihoon says quietly, moving me aside to pat at the cushion I had barely touched. "This couch has been the same since before I was born, and this has always been my father's seat."

I feel my lips part and clamp shut again, my hands clenched at my sides as I watch both members of the family fuss over the couch anxiously. "Are you serious?" I ask in disbelief, catching Jihoon and his mother off guard. "It's just a spot on the couch-"

"It's Woojin, right?" His mother steps forward, tapping my arms with her small hands as if to calm me down. "How's about you come and help me in the kitchen, hmm?" She looks up at me pleadingly, as if the kitchen is the only place she can protect me from the harsh world. "Jihoon, you should greet your Hyung. He's in his old room."

Jihoon groans behind his mother, kicking at the ground. I realize both his shoes are still tied tight. I wonder if he's planning to make a mad dash. His mother glares over her shoulder at him, and he sighs before nodding. "Can I at least give Woojin a tour? So he knows the best places to hide at least-"