23:Making things worse
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
No One's POV:
Minho couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility that weighed on him. If only he had known her better, if only he had noticed something was wrong before it escalated. He sat beside her until her breathing grew slow and even. His fingers brushed her forehead, checking for fever. She was only slightly warmer, likely due to the cozy blanket.
"Goodnight."
He whispers to her.
When he's sure she's in deep sleep he stands up and prepares to leave, he watched the room fall into darkness, the soft light from the hallway briefly illuminating her peaceful face before being swallowed by the closing door. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway entering his own room, he moved straight to his bed, letting the shadows of the night embrace him as he settled in the quiet of the room.
Minho sank into the softness of his bed, the familiar comfort of his own room offering him comfort. He lay there for a moment, his mind replaying the events of the evening, the image of her peaceful face lingering in his thoughts.
As Minho's eyelids grew heavier, the last remnants of his worries began to dissolve into the darkness. His breathing evened out, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest became steady. The quiet of the night embraced him, and soon he drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep, leaving behind the worries of the day.
Few hours later, at 7am, his phone rings. It's the shrill ringing of his alarm. Minho groans as the annoying sound of his alarm pierces the silence, interrupting his peaceful sleep. But he gets up anyway. He washes up, brushes his teeth and changes into his jogging attire. But he doesn't just leave, he checks on Hana first.
He knocks on the door gently, but obviously he doesn't get an answer because she's probably asleep. He opens the door himself, and before him is a sleeping Hana. She has rolled over during the night and blanket has slipped away. So fixes that, but touch causes Hana to stir awake, startled. Hana's eyes fly open, and she sits up abruptly, her heart racing. Her disoriented gaze falls on Minho, who stands by the bed with a look of concern.
"Why, why, why? What's wrong?"
Minho's voice is tinged with panic, as if he fears he's somehow disrupted something
Hana blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
"What? Oh Minho, it's just you..."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up like this," Minho says, his voice softening as he notices the confusion on her face. "I just came to check if you were okay. The blanket fell off, and I thought you might be cold."
"I thought it was mom waking me up."
She said tiredly running her hand through her hair.
"Do you miss her or something?"
"No- I mean, not exactly, I do..." Hana admits, her voice tired.
"But not enough to want to go see her. Just leave that, it's complicated, don't worry."
"Why did you wake up startled?"
Hana sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit.
"My mom used to wake me up if I stayed in bed past 8 AM. She'd make it a big deal, and it'd make me panic. So now, when someone wakes me up suddenly, I just assume I've overslept and messed something up. It's nothing really, like I've told you before, they're not the most supportive, but at least they care."
Minho nods, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Hana, that's—never mind. I'm really sorry about that. I'll be more careful next time. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
He stopped himself from commenting further about her parents and how her reaction to their behavior might not have been entirely fair. He knew from what he had heard from her and the others that she had already dealt with enough of that kind of feedback
Hana quickly shakes her head, her eyes gentle.
"No, don't apologize. I'm sorry if I made you think you did something wrong.
Minho gives her a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I understand now. Thanks for letting me know."
"How early is it?"
"Just 7 AM," Minho replies.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I head out for my run, so go back to sleep okay? I'll be back in about an hour or two. Do you want anything before I go?"
Hana shook her head, already sinking back into her pillow.
"No, I'm good. Just go on and get your run in. I'll see you later."
Minho nodded silently, easing out of the room and gently closing the door behind him. As he descended the stairs and stepped into the crisp morning air, he took a deep breath, letting the freshness invigorate him. He started his run with purpose, knowing that to sustain his passion for boxing over the long term, he needed to keep his body strong and resilient.
Boxing was more than just a sport for Minho; it was a source of strength and fulfillment. Each victory in the ring, after grueling rounds of intense sparring, reinforced his sense of accomplishment. Despite the fatigue of at least four grueling rounds—each lasting at least three minutes, leaving his shoulders aching and his face slightly bruised—he emerged victorious, knowing he had given his all.
Hana, meanwhile, drifted back into a fragile slumber. However, her peace was soon shattered by the insistent ringing of her phone. Groggy and disoriented, she reached for it, squinting at the screen to see her mother's Caller ID flashing there. With a reluctant sigh, she answered.
"Mom? Why are you calling so early?"
The irritation in her mother's voice was palpable, even through the phone.
"Do I need a special time to call my daughter?"
Hana rubbed her eyes, struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep.
"It's just early for a Saturday, that's all."
"Early? Hana, it's 8:30 a.m. You should have been up already, studying."
The sharpness in her mother's words stung more than the blare of the alarm ever could. Hana's heart sank, the weight of her mother's expectations pressing down on her even before she had fully awoken. The morning had barely begun, and already she felt she was falling short.
"Yeah, I know, I know I was going to. Is that what you called for?"
She lied. She was asked to stay in bed. She had too, because that's the only way she would get better, but the pressure was already starting to build.
"No, that's not what I called for. We received an email, from the insurance company. You seemed to have visited the hospital?"
Hana's stomach tightened.
"I'm always at the hospital. I work there."
"Don't try to change the subject. Are you sick?"
"I might have been," Hana admitted, her voice faltering.
"But you didn't bother to ask if I was doing okay."
"Hana that's not how you talk to your mother. I'm calling you right now because I'm concerned."
"Concerned? The first thing you told me was that I should have been up studying."
A heavy silence settled between them, laden with unresolved tension. Hana felt the familiar chasm widen, her mother's concern wrapped in criticism. The conversation always seemed to start with a reprimand, leaving little room for genuine support.
"Are you studying at all? You're slacking off. Just because you've moved out doesn't mean I'm not keeping an eye on you. I know everything."
Hana's mind raced with frustration.
You claim to know everything, Mom. Do you know your child is struggling? Do you know she's hanging by a thread? Do you realize you're the one sawing at that thread?
Hana's voice cracked with barely contained emotion.
"What? What- what do you mean? You're the one changing the topic."
Her mother's voice hardened as she continued,
"You've been hanging out. Hanging out with those losers you call your friends. You think I don't see things? You think you're smart by not posting yourself? I have eyes everywhere, Hana."
"Where's this all coming from?
Mom, I haven't been out since I moved. I've been working and studying.
You calling me things is one thing, how can you say that about children who aren't yours? You have no right to."
"Don't act smart with me. I don't trust you. Not one bit. I knew this would happen. You're irresponsible. You've let yourself fall behind, and you get why I nag at you now, don't you? You need someone to push you. Without it, you wouldn't have made it this far."
At the same time, Minho was arriving home from his run, his forehead sweaty and his body tired. He quietly entered the house and went to the kitchen to grab some water. He drank it all in huge gulps, quenching his thirst. As Minho finished his water, he heard the faint murmur of a conversation from Hana's room.
The voice was unmistakably hers, tinged with the sharp edges of disapproval. Minho's brow furrowed in concern; he could tell from the snippets of conversation he caught that Hana was in the middle of a personal call. He decides to not eavesdrop on her, since he knew very well that if Hana wanted him to know, she would tell him herself. Besides, from the tone and context, he could already surmise that it was her mother on the line.
"Mom you don't mean that. It's been almost 3 months since I moved out, and I'm telling you I haven't gone out even once. This is the first time you're calling me in those 3 months, have you thought about that or do you just not care anymore?"
Hana's voice trembles
"Do you think I'm joking? I took time off work to call you, and now you're saying I don't care?"
"I'm doing everything I can," Hana's voice falters.
"I don't know what else to do. What do you want from me?"
"Stop trying to guilt-trip me."
her mother snaps, hurt and anger mingling in her tone.
Hana's voice cracked as she raised it in frustration.
"Mom, you'll never understand me. Because it wasn't you who pulled me out to a bed when I fainted at work. It wasn't you who tried to check on me when I wasn't doing well.
It was never you!"
She pulled at her hair, her distress palpable.
Minho, even though he was in the living room, could hear the anguish in her voice even from a distance. His concern deepened, torn between respecting her need for space and the instinct to offer support. He stood frozen for a moment, grappling with the decision.
"What are you saying?"
"Yeah, I fainted. It's happening all over again and I don't know what to do. I'm losing my mind."
If she wasn't crying before, she was now.
"We've been through this. Your anxiety is not real. Get a grip and stop distracting yourself trying to get attention. You're only driving yourself away from your goal by doing this. Start eating, don't skip your meals."
Hana's frustration boiled over.
"You'll regret saying this one day." Hana's voice trembled with raw emotion.
"You keep ignoring me, and you'll realize how wrong you were.
How bad you've been as a mother."
"Choi Hana!"
her mother's voice cut through the speaker with an authoritative edge.
Hana flinched at the raised voice, realizing she had crossed a line. Her heart sank as she recognized the gravity of her outburst.
"I'm sorry," she stammered, trying to retract the hurtful things she had said.
"I didn't mean to say that. But—"
"Stop it then,- her mother's voice was cold and dismissive.
Stop speaking to me if you hate me so much. Don't call me your mother if you're going to disrespect me."
Her mother's words, though spoken with a veneer of calm, carried an underlying bitterness that made Hana's heart ache even more.
"I can never win, can I? Now you're making me the bad person here"
Hana's voice wavered with resignation.
"No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it feels like I'm always the one with the shortcomings. I'm the one who's wrong."
"You don't deserve the love we give you, Hana," her mother snapped, her tone sharp.
"You're the one taking us for granted, not the other way around. No one else will ever love you the way we do."
Hana's heart ached with the sting of her mother's words. The weight of the accusation hung heavily in the air, making it hard for her to process the intensity of the moment. She struggled to find a response, her emotions a tangled mess of hurt and frustration.
"I... I don't know what to say," she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother's silence on the other end of the line was a stark contrast to the harshness of her previous statements. It was as if the finality of her mother's words had left both of them at a loss, the conversation reaching an impasse.
"Please, believe me, I'm trying to do my best. I'm doing my best.
Still, there was no reply.
Mom, you still there?"
No, she's not. Because the call simply ended with that lingering sense of unresolved tension, leaving Hana alone with her thoughts and emotions. She put her phone down, feeling the gravity of the conversation settle over her like a heavy fog.
Her throat hurt, her head throbbed, and tears flowed uncontrollably. Hana lay back on her bed, feeling utterly defeated. All she could do was cry, overwhelmed by the frustration and exhaustion from pushing herself too hard. She was angry with herself for upsetting her mom, but even more so at the way her parents had always held her back rather than supporting her.
She cried until her tears ran dry, her eyes stinging with the remnants of her anguish. When she finally managed to open them, everything was a blur. Hana blamed herself, feeling as though the fault lay squarely on her shoulders, even though a part of her knew that wasn't true. That buried truth was overwhelmed by the heavy weight of the words exchanged.
She couldn't close her eyes. Every time she tried, her mother's demands to study reverberated in her mind, mingling with the relentless pressure that left her no room for peace.
She lay there, a mess of exhaustion and frustration, until a knock on the door broke through her spiraling thoughts.
Minho had just finished his shower and was about to prepare breakfast when he heard faint cries coming from Hana's room. Concerned, he set aside his plans and headed straight for her door. He knocked softly, but when there was no response, he gently pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was heartbreaking. Hana lay on her bed, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
"Shit"
She said quietly
"It's just me. Can I come in?"
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
a/n: I cried as I wrote this.
I hope no child has to ever go through this type of pressure.
Incase no one told you this today,
YOU ARE LOVED
I LOVE YOU
YOURE DOING GREAT
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