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"What do you do for fun?" Taeyong asked, walking around in a park nearby.

Yuta walked by Taeyong quietly, "Hm.." He hummed to himself, only realising then that he couldn't even count the things he enjoyed on one hand.

He, himself, didn't know. After all, Yuta never did much when he was off duties. Even now, he only had time to go on strolls and see Taeyong because it was part of his duty (not exactly but the point stands).

If he wasn't assigned to anything, he'd still stay at headquarters. Anything could pop up any second and he has to be there at the moment he is required so as much as he wanted to leave, he couldn't.

He hated it in many different ways. He hated how his life was all black and white. It was either one thing or the other. His voice always drowned out in the blood of people he didn't want to kill, people who his father wanted dead.

Yuta always thought it was selfish for him to wish he could live his own life. In a way, he thought- No, he believed that he didn't deserve to.

"Don't tell me you don't do anything in your free time," Taeyong chuckled before he realised Yuta's silence had indicated otherwise. "You're serious?"

"Yeah," Yuta replied blankly, "I just realised that,"

"We should find something for you to enjoy!" Taeyong said, he quickly rushed towards a bench so he could make a list.

"No, it's fine, really," Yuta replied, watching as Taeyong tore a page out of his own notebook.

Taeyong stared at the blank page before he looked at Yuta, "How do you see it?" Taeyong asked with a soft smile,

"See what?"
"Happiness,"

Yuta stood there, thinking deeply about Taeyong's question. "How do you see it?" Yuta asked, sitting by Taeyong's side.

The corner's of Taeyong's lips lifted, "I think it's being able to have a place to call home everyday," He said, pondering as he spoke.

"When it's the weekend tomorrow, when the laundry smells lovely, when there's a sale," Taeyong listed. He looks over to Yuta, "It's the small things, right?"

Yuta feels an anchor weighing his heart down. Small things? He didn't even have a place to call home. He belonged nowhere but to his father. The only man in this world who would give him meaning,

Weekends? Laundry? Sales? Hearing these things nearly made Yuta lash out at Taeyong. The younger hadn't said anything wrong but Yuta felt frustrated at how he didn't understand these things at all.

He felt so alienated at that moment. He realised that he knew nothing. He had nothing to brought him joy anymore, not after his mother was killed.

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