her words are quiet. Eunhee isn’t her usual brash, bold self; she speaks with a worried brow that only surfaces when it comes to Hunchul. he’s used to it by now–his scarred knees and elbows are a testament to growing up in the countryside, and he can bet on his life that for every injury, she wore the same frown as she does now. he wants to believe it annoys him more than anything, but in truth he’s ashamed. he’s supposed to be a grown man–the man of the Jung family. yet when he sees that expression on his older sisters face, he feels like a young boy in the dirt with a cut knee and tear marks down his face. he wants to be mad at her for it, but he knows it’s his fault she does it in the first place. he’s still the unsuccessful baby brother. the screw up. he clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out.”
she frowns at that. “Chulie if you need help I’ll–”
“you’ll what? will I move in with you like last time? and the next time I’m in trouble I’ll move in again?” her frown deepens and so does his; as they sit across one another in Eunhee’s boxed-in living room, they openly glare at each other. he (figuratively) stands his ground to her authority. “I can’t go and hide with you every time I fuck up.”
minutes pass in silence as she purses her lips in a way that makes her a younger version of their mom, and again he feels like a little kid. she leans back into the cushions of her couch, crossing her arms over her chest. “fine. I won't help you. get yourself out of your own mess."
he huffed, and like a true child he needed to have the last word. “fine.”
