💔
🅼🅴🅼🅾🆁🅸🅴🆂 🅼🅴🅼🅴still accepting
💔- a memory that leaves them feeling lonely
It’s summer and the heat of the day still sticks to him, sticky beneath his clothes; his mother’s voice, cool and crisp like an autumnal breeze, had sounded from the kitchen as soon as he’d found his way into their home, telling him that it was time for dinner, and they’d not had his excuses, and had made him sit, and eat.
It was only once a week that the whole family really sat down like this, and had a proper supper, as every other day his parents were busy at the restaurant, and the last thing they wanted to do was come home and cook another meal. So it was that every Sunday, his mother would cook something special, making one of her beloveds’ favourite dishes as a treat.
Tonight, it was his sister’s, and she chattered on in between bites of Spam and rice and carrot, and in between the clatter of metal chopsticks and silver spoons, Eunwoo felt increasingly out of place.
Nobody asks about his day. How it’s been, or what he’s done. And it’s his own fault, really, because he’d spent whole years resisting that, resisting family, and home, and small talk. So they’d stop asking after it.
He never really considered in the midst of his rebellion that it’d have this effect, and perhaps he really had no one to blame but himself.
It still hurt though, to know that they’d given up on him.
Sometimes he just wondered if it’d been as easy for them as it seemed.