The Boy With Silence for Words |Bam x Khun|

Chapter 17

Khun's Pov

    "Where the hell have you been?" I shuddered at his raspy voice. He reeked in alcohol from head to toe. He smelt like he had drank an entire store's stock. He was definitely drunk.. as intoxicated as they come..

    Now, what to say. Excuses, excuses, excuses. What lie will slip out of my mouth today ladies and gents. "I was-"

    Before I could even continue, I was greeted with a slap to my face. And a hard one. And it didn't really help that my knee was not balanced correctly, so of course I had to topple backwards, stumbling, it took everything I had to continue to stand.

    Everything felt like it burned as his hand nailed my jawbone. The sizzling ache throbbed as I gripped onto my sweatshirt hem.

    "A-.. ag," He stumbled backwards, my limp hand just barely catching onto his wrinkled dress shirt. I gripped onto the door frame in attempt to keep the two of us up. If I let go, the both of us were going down.

    My grip tightened onto his shirt, the shirt was crunchy and doused in his sweat. His shirt was disgusting. The last time he cleaned it, well, that was uncertain.

     I gently released my grip after he was somewhat balanced. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I tried to guide him to the couch in the living room. And that's were I had found my dilemma.

    Bottles of alcohol were tossed around the living room, blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. Everything was torn to shreds. And I couldn't imagine what the kitchen looked like if that were he had to go to get the alcohol.

    He was my permanent headache. Hoping he was drunk enough to forget everything the next morning, I roughly shoved him onto the couch. His head fell onto the pillow, his whole body collapsing onto the furniture and like that, he was out like a light.

    His long blue hair sprawled against the decorative pillow. His face looked so innocent as he slept.

     I couldn't help but remember running down the stairs as a kid to get a snack or maybe I needed help on the hardest equation at the time just to find Mom and Father napping on the couch all snuggled up together.

      He was a good man then, I remember sitting on his broad shoulders as we played outside. Or him reading bedtime stories to me as a kid. When he accidently let me go when teaching me how to ride a bike. Him bragging to me to other parents. I couldn't help but remember when he was just dad..

    ..But all I am is just a murderer. No son of his anymore. I leisurely limped around the room making a mental list on what needed to be clean in the living room before getting off to work.

     I began to fold all the blankets before lying some of them down across the backs of the couches. Picking up the sprawled pillows and placing them neatly on the cushions, gathering together all of the wine and beer bottles, I just tried to make it look like my dad hadn't thrown a fit.

     I took heavy steps as I made it into the kitchen, grabbing cleaners that were stored below the sink cabinet. With a arm full of cleaner, I got off to work, scrubbing down the coffee table, the end tables, the TV stand, and the windowsills. Then soon vacuuming the unoccupied couches, the ottoman, and then quickly vacuuming the carpet.

     Exhaustion was already incredibly prominent in my eyes, so, I put away the vacuum and moved onto the kitchen. I only had so much energy, so might as well spread it evenly into each chore.

    After putting away the dishes and rising them, wiping down the counters, cleaning out the fridge, sweeping and just barely mopping I was ready to pass out.

     I snatched a ice packet and my bag before practically crawling up the stairs. Each long stride felt like a millennial. I made it up the stairs and in my room just before my legs had given up on me.

    Hitting the floor hard, I just laid there, everything aching. With no will to do anything but sleep, I passed out on the floor.

    ...

    My head ached as a ringing noise rung throughout my room. In attempt to turn off my alarm, I accidently punched my door. Confused on my surrounds, I just barely sat up. My memories all flooded back.

     Still, what was that noise? After analyzing the area, I had eventually realized the noise was erupting from my bag. I reached for my bag, my joints and neck disagreeing with my movements.

    After digging through the pockets, my phone was flashing, Bam slapped across the top in white font. Confused, I answered. A large yawn escaped my mouth as I laid back on the ground. "Hello? Everything ok?"

     "U-uh! Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. Are you icing your knee?" I glanced down at my knee, my probably warm ice pack sat besides my knee. Probably fell off while sleeping..

    "Yep, its feeling a bit better with the ice. So, uh- how are you?" My voice slightly cracked, I didn't really know where else to bring the conversation.

     "I'm actually good thanks. Also! Do you wanna work on the history project?  We don't need to, I was just wondering.." I slowly stood, throwing my bag onto my mattress. With a quick glance at my alarm clock I spoke, "Lets get to it."