“My mother came home and still found me holding Daeul. She screamed and called the police. Then the whole world seemed to show up at our doorstep and we became the broken family with a dead daughter, missing son, divorced couple and a possibly crazy twin,” Daeun laughed bitterly.                  

                  Hoseok could not find the correct words to say.

                  “As if my sister didn’t hate me enough, my mother started hating me too. She blamed me for Daeul’s death after she heard the testimony I had given to the police. She asked me how I could have let all this happen to a single mother who had only been trying her hardest to provide for the family. I endured her harsh words for another year before I was finally old enough to move out of the house. I chose to study at the furthest place I could from that house. I tried to build a new life for myself. But look where it got me: nowhere.”

                  He saw her rub her hands together; for comfort or for warmth he did not know. Her breath condensed in front of her as the night’s cold weather arrived.

                  “I’m terrible aren’t I? I single-handedly drove my sister to kill herself and then destroyed the remaining family I had.”

                  “No,” he said.

                  She turned to face him. He was looking at her, a jumble of emotions trying to be expressed.

                  “You’re not terrible. You’re only human,” he said.

                  She smiled, as if to thank him for the words but it was so small he barely caught it.

                  “Do you want to be left alone?” he asked.

                  “No,” she said.

                  His gaze never left her.

                  “Just stay with me,” she said, and placed her head on his shoulder.

                  He took her hands in his and held them tight. They sat until the sun sent its first rays.

                  Daeun was now currently sitting back on the sofa at their house in New York. Three weeks had passed since they returned from Seoul, and in that three weeks, everything seemed to happen.

                  First, the morning after, they had met up with Ryukwan again to discuss last minute details. He had said to them that he would make it to the meeting. He said he would personally contact Seokjin again if there were any more concerns. He also thanked them for remaining so faithfully although they had been sent on a year long mission. Finally, he apologized for any of the trouble he had caused.

                  Second, Daeun quit her job at Soigne. She explained to Sapphire and all the girls that it was for personal reasons. She told them that they would definitely see each other again and that any one of them was free to call her. She would always be down for a drink with them.

                  Daeun had quit because she no longer felt privileged to work there. Her role was to protect these girls. But she had not been able to protect the one person she had been charged with in the past. The one that was her own blood and practically her soul.

                  She made an excuse, telling herself to enjoy this last month before everything would end at the meeting with Ryukwan and she could be back in Seoul, in time for Seohyun’s wedding.

                  Third, Namjoon asked Daeun if she would like to meet his parents. The question had come so out of the blue, she had stuttered in giving him her response, driving him to think that she did not want to.

                  “No! Of course I’d love to!” Daeun insisted, “It’s just that the whole idea came so sudden.”

                  Namjoon ran his fingers through his hair. In truth, he had been thinking about asking her for a while. He had only never gotten the courage to. “I was thinking about family a lot while I couldn’t see you. You know, with the whole thing between Hong Jung Yee and I.”

                  At the mention of her absence, Daeun felt guilt hit her in the stomach. How could she stand before him, agreeing to meet his parents, when she had nearly gotten into bed with Hoseok?

                  Nonetheless, she agreed at the end and he said he’d arrange the meeting three weeks from when he had suggested it.

                  Finally, three weeks was now. And as she was getting ready to leave the house, it wasn’t because of the meeting with Namjoon and his parents, but because Hoseok was sick.

                  She didn’t know that it was possible for Hoseok to get sick. In the time she had known him, she had never seen him even cough, despite each and every cigarette he insisted on using in front of her. Yet there he was, lying in his bedroom, unmoving with a high fever. She had been on her way out to get him some medicine.

                  “We aren’t meeting until 6:30, Dauen,” Namjoon called from the living room. He was playing a video game with Yoongi and Jungkook.

                  “What?” she asked distractedly, still looking for her other shoe.

                  “The meeting with my parents tonight. It’s not until half an hour later,” he paused the game to turn and look at her.

                  She froze in the midst of tying her shoelaces. Standing back up, she gave him a nervous smile and said, “I know. I’m just going out real quick and…um, I’ll be back real quick.”

                  “I wanted to leave after this game.”

                  “Real quick,” she beamed him another smile before scurrying out the door.

                  Her “real quick” turned out to be twenty minutes later where when she returned home, Namjoon was waiting at the door with his foot tapping. He gave her a raised eyebrow as she apologized and ran towards the direction of the bedrooms. She called to him saying she forgot something in their room and for him to wait in the car before entering Hoseok’s bedroom.

                  He was lying in bed with his eyes closed. The window had been cracked open so fresh air could filter through the room. He briefly stirred when hearing that somebody had entered his room.

                  “Hey,” she said softly, approaching the bedside.

                  “I thought you were meeting Namjoon’s parents,” he croaked, lips cracking at the mere words.

                  “Shh,” she hushed him. She opened the bottle of medicine and took out two pills as the instructions told her. She then brought to his bedside a warm cup of water from the thermos she had left there earlier.

                  “You look like ,” she commented.

                  He laughed, but it quickly turned into a cough. Pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, she retracted it rapidly when the heat of his fever touched her skin.

                  He tried to sit but she gently pushed him down. “Are you taking advantage of me while I’m sick?”

                  “I don’t know what you’re saying,” she murmured, “Here, take your medicine.”

                  Obeying her command, he did as he was told and then sunk back into the pillows. A sigh audibly echoed in the room.

                  Making sure that he was properly tucked back in, she picked up her bag and said one last thing, “I’ll text Jimin later that I bought you medicine. He’ll probably be back to give you another dose tonight in case I’m not back. Don’t bother him and take it. It’ll help, I promise.”

                  “I promise,” he chuckled lightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that.”

                  She scrunched her eyebrows, drawing another laugh from him.

                  “Thank you, Dauen. You didn’t have to,” he whispered.

                  “But I wanted to,” she said, “Now I have to leave before Namjoon gets angry for making us late.”

                  He nodded and she closed the door quietly behind her.

                  Back at the car, Namjoon had switched from tapping his foot to drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

                  “Sorry!” she said once she got into the passenger seat, “I couldn’t find my earring.”

                  He wordlessly nodded and started the car. His mother’s house was not far away but they were still going to be late. They sat in uncomfortable silence for the first five minutes of the duration of the drive.

                  “You didn’t have to lie,” he said when they stopped at a light. Traffic was busy and the estimated fourteen minutes stretched to twenty-five.

                  She started fumbling with her dress, tugging at its corners.

                  “I know you went out to get medicine for Hoseok. Besides the fact that you headed straight to his bedroom, you also dropped the receipt at the front door.” He handed her said receipt.

                  Taking it, she stared at her purchase and stuffed it into her purse.

                  “I knew we were going to be late and I didn’t want to make you angry. I’m sorry.”

                  He sighed. The traffic started moving again. “I’m not angry that you went out. Hoseok has a fever for crying out loud. You’re only doing what a friend would do. But why did you lie?”

                  She picked at her lips now. She didn’t know the answer to that question. It had just happened. When she had been caught off guard, she said the first thing that came into her head.

                  “You may be to detect a stranger’s lie, but I can detect yours. You aren’t a stranger to me. I’ve known you for years. I can read your body language and I’ve come to know all your little habits. Like how you pick your lips when you’re nervous.”

                  She glanced at him and put her hands down.

                  He didn’t say anything until they finally pulled up at the driveway of what Dauen presumed was his parent’s house. That was a long agonizing fifteen minutes later.

                  He stopped the engine and after turning to look at her, sighed.

                  “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I decided upon that when I told you about my relationship with Hong Jung Yee. I want to become a person you can trust; a person you can depend on. The only thing I ask from you is that you do so in return.”

                  She could feel nervousness bubble within her.

                  “Dauen, do you know what I think about most these days?”

                  She shook her head.

                  “I think about what I want to do when all this is over. I think about the future life I can have, and when I do, the first person I think of sharing it with is you. I want you to be the person that I kneel down on one knee for. I want you to be the person to answer my question when I ask, ‘Will you marry me?’”

                  Her heart quickened. A small gasp escaped her lips at his words.

                  “Now, I know I may be overthinking things. I do it quite often. But tell me, is there something wrong? Ever since you came back from Seoul, you seem so withdrawn from me. First, you quit your job and you refuse to tell me why when I ask. Then when I suggest we go on a date with your new free time, you’re always moving away telling me that you’re busy. I’m going to admit it. I’m jealous. Not because of all the personal time you now have during the day, but because each time you use that personal time, it isn’t with me. You’re with Hoseok.”

                  She hated having talks in the car. She was trapped within the small rectangle. She could look out, but it was starting to get dark and besides, she would only be staring at the garage door. She could turn her head but that would be awkward facing the headseat. She obviously couldn’t pick her lips, as he already knew that meant she was nervous.

                  She had to face him and answer his question.

                  “I want us to work,” he was saying, “That’s why I wanted you to meet my parents. I want to introduce you to my life.”

                  He took a deep breath, “I love you, Dauen.”

                  Hearing them made her heart leap. She swallowed, not quite able to bear the weight of those words. When she did open , she fully intended to give him her reciprocal answer but instead, a sudden headache attacked her before she could finish the second word. It started from the base of her neck and seared all the way up to the top of her cranium. She yelped and clutched her head in her hands.

                  Alarmed, Namjoon reached towards her. She only bent down further and moaned as another wave came crashing. He swiftly exited the car and ran over to her side. He took off her seatbelt and carefully led her to sit outside on the pavement. He hoped that fresh air would help.

                  Her breathing was still shaky a minute later but the headache had passed. She hadn’t felt one of those in a long time. She recognized where the pain came from but it baffled her as to why it had occurred. Nobody had said a thing. Well, Namjoon had but it certainly couldn’t have been because of that.

                  “Are you alright?” he asked, still watching her with concern.

                  The lights to the porch and they could hear the click of the door being opened.

                  “Honey!” Namjoon’s mother came running out. She carried similar features to Namjoon but was slightly shorter in stature. She still had the apron around her waist and her straight black hair was cropped to her shoulders. Glasses perched on her nose and she pushed them back up when she bent down to meet their height.

                  “Dauen got a really bad headache,” Namjoon explained. It was strange seeing his mother like this. Every time he had seen her, she had been made up in a pretty dress. He had not seen her as a housewife since… the days he still lived at home.

                  “This one’s passed. I’ll be okay in a few. Sorry to be a bother, Mrs. Kim,” Dauen tried to stand but wobbled to the side. Another pair of strong hands supported her from the side Namjoon was not on. She turned and stared into the face of another man. This must be Namjoon’s stepfather.

                  Namjoon’s mother waved her hands. “Don’t call me Mrs. Kim. Call me “Umma” like Namjoon does. We’re all going to be a family anyways.”

                  Dauen heard Namjoon’s quiet whine of “mom” but nodded anyways. Together, the three of them helped her into the house. The inside was clean and orderly, just like how Namjoon liked to keep their room. A warm scent of a homemade meal wafted from the kitchen and entered Dauen’s nose. It smelled like stew.

                  “Love, the stove is still on,” Namjoon’s stepfather, John, said.

                  He and Namjoon placed her in a chair and John went to the kitchen after Mrs. Kim raced back in.

                  Again, Daeun was left with Namjoon.

                  “They’re really cute together,” Dauen noted with a smile. All sensations she had felt from the previous attack was gone.

                  Namjoon scrunched his nose. She laughed internally, observing that this was a habit he did when he was embarrassed. “I guess,” he muttered. He gave a quick glance at the married couple bickering in the kitchen, then turned back at her, “How’s the headache?”

                  “It’s gone,” she said. Even though he heard her answer, he her hair away from her forehead and touched it. The simple action made her heart race and she blushed.

                  Namjoon wanted to say his last three words in the car again. He wanted to hear her answer, but it did not seem appropriate to bring it up suddenly. Besides, she had started to reply and she had said enough for him to guess the rest of her answer. He sighed. That would have to do for now.

                  “I’m sorry,” she said for the umpteenth time that evening.

                  “What for?”

                  “You seem….upset.”

                  He ruffled her hair, causing her to cutely pout at him. His endearing look made her blush further when he leaned in and whispered, “Make me happy again.” Each word tickled her lips and she blinked to try and not let her gaze wander down away from his eyes.

                  They were interrupted when Mrs. Kim came out from the kitchen. She pretended not to see the intimate moment between her son and Dauen. Rather, she waved them over into the dining where John was bringing the pot onto the table.

                  “A traditional Korean meal,” his mother swept her arms to the laden table, “I thought you might enjoy it what with all the American food you get around here.” There were many side appetizers and main dishes. However the one that garnered all the attention was the rich stew that had been put in the middle.

                  She waited patiently for the two younger ones to pick up their spoons but they only looked up at her with expecting eyes.

                  “Oh,” she laughed at them, “This is a mixed household. We don’t have any of the “elders must eat first” rules here. Not with the two of us living here anyways. Just dig in! I want to see what you think!”

                  Dauen tentatively takes her spoon and dips it into the soup. With an encouraging look from Mrs. Kim, she brought the liquid to her lips. The sweet and savory soup filled her taste buds and she beamed a large smile to indicate her thoughts.

                  An even larger smile broke across the chef’s face. John chuckled from his seat across from Namjoon and Mrs. Kim finally sat down beside him. She continued to watch with fascination at the speed Dauen was inhaling her food across from her.

                  “This is really delicious, Mrs – Umma,” Dauen corrected herself in her statement.

                  “Oh, Honey! Dauennie eats so well!” she delightedly hit her husband’s arm, still watching Dauen try the sweet and sour chicken now.

                  John nodded and shared his wife’s enthusiasm.

                  “Joon-ah,” she turned her attention towards Namjoon, “You’re so quiet. What do you think of my cooking? Is it still the best food you’ve ever had in your life?”

                  Namjoon had been strangely quiet the entire meal, only silently eating. He had also not looked up to meet his mother’s eyes.

                  Dauen knew about the tension between Namjoon and his stepfather. But she found it unusual that he would not even look to his mother. She gently nudged him with her foot.

                  “It’s good,” Namjoon mumbled, “But Dad’s pancakes were always better.”

                  Mrs. Kim froze on the spot. Even John’s chopsticks stopped moving on the way to his mouth. Everybody stared at Namjoon.

                  “Mom, have you ever thought about the possibility of Dad coming back?” he asked.

                  John coughed. He quickly exited the room and Dauen could hear him grabbing a cup from the kitchen, however, he did not return immediately.

                  “Joon-ah, why are you asking this all of a sudden?” Mrs. Kim asked, flustered. Her eyes darted around the table.

                  Dauen could only silently sit beside Namjoon.

                  “I’m just wondering, Mom,” Namjoon finally looked up. His lips were pressed in a hard line and his eyes full of question.

                  “I don’t know. It’s been too long since you’re dad left us. I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive.”

                  “What if he’s alive? What if he were to walk through the doors right now?”

                  “Joon-ah, is there something you found out? Is that why you’re back in New York?”

                  Namjoon turned his head away. Dauen caught the glimmer of a tear.

                  “They’re only questions, Umma. And I am only curious.”

                  “Well the idea is absurd,” she finally answered with resolution, “If he wanted to come back, he would have done it years ago. There’s no need for him to dump and leave behind his wife and son, no matter how important his mission was.”

                  “And if he were to suddenly appear at the doorstep, would you take him back?”

                  Mrs. Kim clenched her jaw. “No,” her answered wavered in the single word. She seemed to notice it too as she cleared before continuing, “For goodness sakes, Namjoon, I’m married now. We’re nearly approaching our tenth anniversary. I’ve got a son who’s all grown up and who’s brought home his girlfriend. Even if that good-for-nothing Kim DongHae were to appear and sit at this table, he’s no longer a part of this family. My family is right here. You, John and Dauen.”

                  John returned from the kitchen with a full glass of wine in one hand. He clutched the bottle in another and set it on the table. Judging from how empties the bottle looked, Dauen guessed he had drunk more than one glass already before returning.

                  “It was only a question,” Namjoon repeated. He returned to staring at his soup.

                  Dauen looked around the table and saw that everybody was consumed with staring down at their food. She let out a nervous chuckle and then said to everyone, “The food is wonderful! And John’s brought a nice bottle of wine to pair with it. Does anyone want a glass? I’ll grab it from the kitchen!”

                  Nobody answered her but she went anyways. Anything to get out of the stifling dinner table.

                  The kitchen contained many cabinets and it took her a while to find the wine glasses. They were perched at the top of the shelf and she tip-toed to reach it. A hand stretched from behind her and grabbed two glasses off.

                  “Was that too abrupt?” Namjoon asked, his chest still pressed to her back. She retrieved the first two glasses from him and he went to take another one down.

                  When he had closed the cabinet, he peered down at her.

                  “Slightly,” she answered honestly, “It certainly caught her off guard.”

                  He exhaled.

                  She set the glasses on the countertop and grabbed her hands in his. “To your mom, this is the family she’s known for the past ten years. You can’t blame her for being so defensive. She’s protecting what she loves.”

                  “I know. I don’t blame her. It’s just when Hong Jung – Kim Dong – my dad were to ever return, I want to know if we could be…us again.”

                  “She doesn’t even know he’s alive.”

                  Nodding slowly, he also pats her hand.

                  “When you tell her, give her time,” she said to him one last time.

                  He takes all three glasses back to dinner table and places them accordingly. He remains unseated to go around the table and pour wine in each cup. Once they are all filled, he raises it to the center.

                  “Cheers. For family.”

Wow. Talk about being away for a long time. It's been months. I stepped away from writing due to personal reasons, but recently I found myself missing it immensely so...here I am! Returned! Plus, this piece is by baby and I truly want to finish it. Not going to lie, I teared up a bit reading old comments so you guys serve as a big motivation for me returning <3

I know this chapter was sort of dull compared to everything else that has happened, I've actually got the ending all mapped out already, so please anticipate the next few chapters as we draw to an end!

Until then, thank you for reading and staying by my side and with this universe I've created. lots and lots of love :)