"i don't know why i'm here, i'm sorry," hongjoong admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he stood in the doorway, eyes wide and tired, like he had walked miles just to reach this moment.

seonghwa blinked, startled but happily surprised. "it's okay, don't apologize," he said softly, stepping back a little, his voice lined with warmth. "do you... want to come in?"

hongjoong looked down at his shoes for a long second before nodding faintly. "i guess i wouldn't be here otherwise."

he stepped inside slowly, like his legs were not fully convinced this was the right choice, and made his way to the couch. he sat down with a weight that seemed too heavy for someone his size. seonghwa did not hesitate to join him, settling beside him, forgetting all about the plans he had for the afternoon. none of it mattered, not now. not when hongjoong looked like his world had finally crumbled in on itself.

"i think i overreacted a bit yesterday," hongjoong murmured after a moment, his eyes fixed on the window, chasing ghosts only he could see.

"no," seonghwa shook his head gently, "it's my fault for leaning in. i should've made sure it was okay before i did anything."

"no," hongjoong said quickly, too quickly. "it's my fault. it's my fault for being the way i am. for keeping you out."

his voice broke on the last word, and his gaze dropped to the floor, like it was the only thing that would stay still beneath him. a tear slipped from the corner of his eye and fell silently onto his jeans. he did not wipe it away.

seonghwa reached over, placing a warm hand on his back, rubbing slow, steady circles. he did not speak. he did not need to. the touch was enough. it told hongjoong he was safe.

hongjoong swallowed hard, the silence wrapping around his chest like a vice. "remember when i said i didn't want to talk about my childhood?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"yes," seonghwa answered, keeping his voice soft, almost reverent, like he knew he was standing at the edge of something fragile.

"it's because it wasn't something i ever want to relive," hongjoong whispered. "i grew up in a broken home. my father... he wasn't really around, but when he was, it was worse. he was cruel. violent. he hurt my mom. he hurt me."

his voice trembled, and his hands clenched together in his lap. "he was a monster. some nights, i didn't know if we'd wake up the next morning. some nights, i prayed we wouldn't."

he paused, drawing in a jagged breath like it physically hurt to keep going. "he'd come home drunk and furious over nothing. sometimes it was money. sometimes it was dinner being too cold. sometimes... it was just because we were there. and when he hit us, it wasn't like he lost control. it was like he wanted to. like he needed to remind us we belonged to him. like we were just things he could break whenever he felt like it."

seonghwa's hand never stopped moving on his back. his eyes had filled with tears, but he stayed silent, letting hongjoong keep going. letting him unravel what had stayed too tightly wound for too long.

"i think that's why it's hard for me to open up to people," hongjoong admitted, voice thinner now. "why i shut down when things get too close. why i pull away even when i don't want to."

he looked up for a second, not quite meeting seonghwa's gaze. "because deep down, there's this part of me that thinks everyone's just pretending to be good. that eventually, they'll show their real face. they'll hurt me, the way he did. maybe not with fists, but with words, or silence, or just leaving."

he wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweater, frustrated at how much he was crying. "and sometimes i think it's easier to just never let anyone close at all. then there's nothing to lose. no one to betray you. no one to walk away."

"hongjoong..." seonghwa whispered, heart aching.

"i couldn't do it anymore, couldn't live there any longer. i ran away the day i turned eighteen. packed a bag and never looked back. came to new york thinking i could start over."

"i'm glad you got away from that," seonghwa said. "i'm glad you survived."

hongjoong's shoulders trembled. "but i left her," he said, the guilt seeping into every syllable. "i left my mom there. with him. i didn't even say goodbye. i just left. and now i'll never get the chance to make it right."

"why can't you make it right?" seonghwa asked.

"she's d-dead," hongjoong stuttered out, tears streaming from his face.

"hongjoong, i'm so sorry," seonghwa replied as his heart sunk for hongjoong.

"i should've taken her with me. i should've tried harder. she got sick not long after i left. she didn't even live a year without me. and the worst part?" he paused, voice breaking, "she died alone. with him."

the room went still. seonghwa's hand never left his back, though his own eyes had welled with tears.

"i miss her so much," hongjoong said, finally letting the weight in his chest spill out. "she was the only good thing in that house. the only light i had. and i left her behind."

seonghwa leaned in just slightly, his voice shaking as he said, "tell me about her. your mom."

hongjoong's lips quivered, but a small smile tugged at the corner. "she loved to bake," he said. "she used to sneak me into the kitchen when he wasn't home and teach me her recipes. cookies, cakes, bread from scratch. she used to hum when she kneaded dough. i think... i think those were my favorite memories. just the two of us, in the warm kitchen. safe for a little while."

his fingers curled tightly in his lap. "she's the reason i love baking. it's the only thing that still makes me feel close to her. it's why i want to go to culinary school... to become a baker. to keep that part of her alive."

"then you should," seonghwa said quietly, his voice steady but soft, like he was speaking something sacred.

hongjoong gave a sad laugh and shook his head. "i can't afford it. i barely make rent. school is just... a dream. one of those things you keep tucked away, hidden in the back of your mind so it doesn't hurt so much."

seonghwa shifted closer, his knee brushing gently against hongjoong's. "then we'll dream together," he said, firmer now. "we'll apply to schools together. we'll figure it out. i'll be right here with you."

hongjoong turned to look at him, really look at him, eyes swollen and glassy, searching seonghwa's face for doubt, for hesitation. but he found none. only warmth. only sincerity. "you would do that?"

"of course," seonghwa nodded. "you're not alone anymore."

hongjoong's throat tightened. "i used to imagine it, you know?" he said after a moment. "what it would be like to go to school for something i actually love. not just working random jobs to get by. but waking up every morning knowing i get to bake... to learn. to grow."

"you should get to have that," seonghwa whispered. "you deserve to have that."

"i've looked at schools before," hongjoong admitted, his voice small. "just late at night when i couldn't sleep. there's this one in brooklyn. they have a baking and pastry program. i bookmarked it like, three years ago."

"what's stopping you from applying?" seonghwa asked gently.

hongjoong bit his lip. "money. fear. the voice in my head that says i'm not good enough. that i'd never make it. and then the guilt... that i get to chase something beautiful when she's not here to see it."

seonghwa reached out, gently taking hongjoong's hand in his. "she'd want you to," he said. "she'd want you to be happy. to follow the thing she gave you. it's not leaving her behind, joong. it's carrying her forward."

hongjoong blinked quickly, like he was trying to keep himself from breaking again. "you really think i could do it?"

"i know you could. you're incredible at baking," seonghwa said.

hongjoong let out a wet, broken laugh. "you've never even tried my baking."

"no, i haven't," seonghwa smiled, his thumb brushing against hongjoong's hand. "but even though i haven't, i know it's incredible. you should apply. we'll sit down together, pick out a few programs, look into scholarships. maybe we won't have the answers right away, but we'll start."

hongjoong stared down at their hands. it felt unreal. like someone had cracked a window open in a room that had been sealed shut for years. "you make it sound so simple."

"it's not simple," seonghwa said. "but it's possible, and it's easier when you're not alone."

hongjoong nodded slowly, his heart full of ache and something unfamiliar. it was a feeling of hope. "you'd really do that with me? apply with me?"

"every application, every essay, every sleepless night. i'll be there," seonghwa said. "we're in this together."

for the first time in a long, long time, hongjoong believed it. really, truly believed it.

i'm so sorry for not updating on monday, i've been so busy at work and didn't get a chance! but i hope you love this chapter because i sure do!!!

-vic