💜
a memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad + also asked by @gnwoori (tw: mentions of addiction)
// May 2018
“Mika,” his mother cries, holding his face to her chest. “Please. I’m so worried for you. I’ve been so worried, this whole time…” She brushes her fingers gently through his hair, pressing her lips over and over to the top of his head. He sniffles; he can’t breathe, and the entire front part of his head is burning, but the few tears that come out are out of relief from being in his mother’s embrace, not from any pain. “Please stay home now. Don’t… go out. We can get you help, you can go back to school, or relax for a bit, if you want. Whatever you want, baby. As long as it’s not… no more drinking or drugs or… or whatever it is. Anything but that and we can help you.”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, letting her tug him even closer. “Everything’s so fucked… I mean… messed up.”
“You’re not allowed to argue with me anymore,” she laughs, missing all of the humour he’s used to hearing from her. “This is a blessing in disguise.” She dries her face with her sleeve, trying to compose herself. “I always told you not to get involved with that company. Especially that guy.”
His manager, she means. She’s never tried to hide her disdain for him. Despite knowing how stupid he sounds, something compels him to argue with her still, “He was just doing his job. It’s not his fault that I’m… like this. Or anything that happened.”
Continuing to smooth down his hair, she leans back. Only a mother’s gaze could hold so much love and disappointment in equal measure. Sighing, she brushes her hand over his cheek and wipes his face. “You don’t need to tell yourself that anymore. You’re free. You’re with us again now. Your room… everything is still there. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. I promise we’ll take care of you. That’s… that’s all I’ve wanted to do for years.”
There’s nothing that he wants more in the world than for her words to be true. “Okay,” he says, swallowing. “I’ll… yeah. I’ll stay here for a bit.”
“I just want you to be safe. I love you so much,” she says with a sincerity Mika hasn’t heard in months. “You know I’ll always be here for you.”
“I love you too,” he somehow chokes out before the tears come out like a waterfall. She coos at him, whispering words he barely hears over and over; anything so that he can hear her voice and know that he’s truly home. She rocks him back and forth until he falls asleep in her arms, just like a child again.
(The messages he’s bombarded with from his former co-workers and peers urging him to do differently send him spiraling into an indecisive panic all-too familiar, and he buys the first ticket to Korea possible the next day. His grandparents are happy to see him, but the text his dad sends when he lands is just another mark to add to his list of failures: I really thought you were better than this, Mika. Even after all these bad decisions, I thought the boy we raised was still there somewhere. But the boy I raised would never lie to his mother’s face like that. Maybe your grandparents can knock some sense into you. Until then: don’t come back.)
