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⇒ Miroh Street, Incheon, KR
9:15am

That stung.

For a pair of eyes that was shut in peaceful slumber, the rate at which they flew open seemed unlike the rush of adrenaline for the average human. Minho's hand swung upwards to meet the painful sensation at his forehead so swiftly, that the fact that he was fast asleep barely seconds before could in no way be sold out by the action. And he groaned, tired torso lifting to sit him uprightly on the bed, and wide eyes staring forward at his mother with sheer frustration, yet evident respect.

"Ma! Why did you flick my forehead?" He cried, head falling backwards as his eyes closed briefly, and deep huff flaring his nostrils when his hand, dropped from his face. "A simple shake or call would do to wake me up."

"No! It seems as though you have to feel physical pain to get some sense in your head," the woman chastised, her plush, slightly wrinkled lips squeezed together to express her true disappointment towards her son, and the crinkled skin around her eyes boasting their lines of age as she glared forward so intently. "I'm very, very disappointed in you, Lee Minho."

"What? I literally arrived last night. What did I do?" Minho groaned, shifting some to let his the base of his feet meet the varnished, wooden surface of the floor, whilst his hands found his blanket to completely uncover himself. "And where- where is Jisung?" He glanced back at the half-empty bed, confused at the absence of his fiancé.

"He's in the kitchen. And I asked that he stay there until I say that he can come back in." She smiled sarcastically, leg crossed over the other in her estimable seat on the chair that she had dragged up to her son's front. Brushing back a few strands of the black, neck-length hair that tickled her face, she went on," I spoke to you over the phone several times, Minho. I told you not to bring that-"

"Ma, stop." Minho glared back, cracked lips pairing into a lime to emphasize the depth and assertiveness in his tone, but pure shock with distaste reclaiming the setting of his face when a familiar sting to the first, met the sensitive skin of his forehead. "Ma-"

"Minho are you bewitched? From what you told me, that man was cheating on you for over a month! And you took him back into your life so close so quickly? Engaged and all? Even after, I tried to talk some sense into you, but you're so damn hard headed." The woman sighed as she spoke, two fingers of her left hand rising to massage her nose-bridge, and eyelids finding the best decision to be a brief shutting, just for the sake of her own sanity.

Looking up, she continued, eyes organizing periodical glances at the locked door to ensure the absence of any sense of the mentioned male's presence. "And now, you bring him to my house, after I warned you not to! There's only so much I can tell you, because I know it's your decision whether you want to leave him or not. But listen to me, Minho, I've been living this life for a long enough time to know an unfaithful man when I see one."

"Ma," Minho sighed, shaking his head as as his lips, once again, thinned themselves into a line, and fingers fiddling with each other against the part of his thighs at which his boxers failed to cover. "He learned his lesson... I- I mean, we've only slept together like five times since the incident, and he's been coping nicely."

"How do you know?"

"What?"

"How do you know that he's not doing it in secret again? Come on, Minho. You know better than this. You can't be so blinded by love, that you become so oblivious to everything," she rolled her eyes, and the clear discomfort forming on her son's face could in no way bring even a fraction of an inch of subtlety into her short rant. "I know that people change, Minho, but something is off about that man. Nobody cheats on their partner for so long, and then just claims to love them the most again. I've said it before, and I will say it again, Minho! He only showed remorse because he was caught! And that poor patient, I still believe that you should give him some form of compensation."

"His boyfriend is our secretary-"

"And so? Now, I'm even more convinced that you are bewitched, Minho. Because you sound so damn foolish," she flicked his forehead again, lips resting in a firm frown, and head shaking at the absolute disappointment that her own son was seeming to be. "You're paying that boy his salary! But that has nothing to do with the patient that was taken advantage of! If I were him, I'd even take legal action and ensure that your fiancé or whatever loses his license. Man up, Minho! And this is not the first time that I'm telling you all of this! You're just so damn hard headed over the phone."

"I'd appreciate if we'd stop talking about this, Ma." Minho forced a small smile, legs lifting him up and off of the bed, and guiding his tired body over the closed door. Unlocking it, he glanced back, head shaking at the sight of the still distressed look lingering on the woman's face, and lips parting to sound one more line, in hope that it'd somehow ease the noticeable tension between them. "I'll be careful, okay? But I know he's changed. He's changed and we will work, Ma."

"You say that now..."

-

Minho grinned as he strolled into the kitchen. With a deep breath, he slid both arms around his fiancé's waist so sneakily from behind, lips wasting no time before kissing the lower sides of his neck, and soon parting to sound the same giggle that Jisung had let out from that moist, warm sensation.

"Good morning, baby," he greeted sweetly, smiling even brighter when Jisung rested the knife and onion from his hand on the counter, to rotate and further savor a pattern of kisses with Minho. "I hope M-Ma didn't give you any trouble."

"No, she's so kind,"!Jisung hummed, ignoring the light sting of morning breath to kiss his partner, and bringing both arms around the latter's neck to deepen their eye contact when they pulled away. "How did you sleep? I know we got here late so, I didn't want to wake you..."

"What a thoughtful fiancé I have," Minho smiled, one hand lifting from Jisung's waist to caress his cheek before the soft, favored lips of the other puckered to meet his, again. "What're you making? You know you don't have to... We're on vacation, Sungie. And Ma promised to cook for us while we stay here... Plus, when we go to the hotel, we'll also have some luxury. It's time to relax, Sung."

"I know but, even if she's friendly, I know she doesn't like me, Min. So the least I can do is show myself helpful," Jisung frowned with that line, breaking eye contact with the taller to stare at the clothed chest before him, rather than the unreasonably intimidating gaze of his fiancé. "But don't worry about it, please? I like making omelets. So just go freshen up or something, and then come out for breakfast."

"As long as you're comfortable, my love."

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