Chapter Text
It is rare for Soobin’s phone to ring at 2 pm on a working day. He’s at his work, listening to Mr. Hwang who is presenting the recent data of the department. He stares at the screen of his phone, glares into it actually. The display name of the caller is enough to make him turn as white as a sheet of paper.
My Pretty Beomgyu
“Team Manager Choi?” Mr. Hwang tentatively calls his attention, looking back and forth between him and his phone. Right, he is in the middle of a meeting.
“Uh…yeah,” he answers, but makes no effort to reach out. After all, it has been eight years already.
Eight years since he last saw him, eight years since he got dumped on the call.
If it was eight years ago, he would pick the call up on the first ring. Excitement would fill him, spilling out of his soul, love overflowing in his voice. But now, it only fills him with dread, the past crashing upon him like a waterfall in monsoon.
He stalls it till the last ring and finally swipes on the green button. He should be the bigger person here. Eight years is a long time. He has moved on. He has gotten over him.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
He breathes in once, and braces himself as he presses the phone to his ear. He has no idea what he is expecting. Is it the cherry ‘ hyung’ he always used to call him? Or the ‘Soobin-ah ’ he often pulls just to get on Soobin’s nerves? Either way, he knows it would hurt him so much, even more than the breakup he thought was so devastating.
But nothing could prepare him for this.
“Hello, is this Choi Beomgyu’s guardian?” A man speaks through the call, “Beomgyu-ssi has gotten into a road accident. We are transporting him to Seobuk Hospital right now. The condition is pretty serious, so please get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
The call ends abruptly before Soobin can even register the words. Everything is too much for him to take in.
He gets a call from his ex, eight years later. And it’s not even his ex but a stranger asking him to rush to the hospital because apparently his ex has gotten into an accident. It sounds like a joke, honestly.
Yet, he’s picking his things up. His co-workers are staring at him like he has grown two heads. Or maybe it’s because they have never seen their team manager this estranged and troubled- hands trembling, face pale with horror, fumbling with his steps and scared out of his wits. From their looks, he knows they must have sensed his scent reeking of distress even through his scent patch.
It is not in his ethics to leave a meeting without a proper apology or a word at least. But his mind is reeling beyond its limit at this moment. This better be a joke , he mutters under his breath. He swears he won’t be mad even if this is a joke, a terrible, terrible one at that.
The ride to the hospital is a blur to him. The last thing he remembers is missing to plunge the key into his car multiple times. And then, before he knows it, he’s at the hospital’s parking lot. It took him five minutes less than what the GPS recommended.
He arrives breathless at the help desk of the ER. He swallows a lump, willing his heart to return to normal. Beomgyu never fails to rock his heart, whether it be for good or bad reasons.
“Ex-excuse m-me,” he pants in the receptionist’s face, “Choi Beom-”
“We’ve been waiting for you,” the guy tells him urgently, pulls out a paper from a file and shoves a pen in his hand, “We need you to sign this please. Beomgyu-ssi is in a critical condition, he requires an emergency surgery.”
Every drop of blood in his body drains. No. This can’t be happening. His vision blurs making it hard for him to read the contents of the form.
“Please hurry, every second is important,” the receptionist urges him.
Choi Soobin , he signs himself with a hand of steel, heavy and a separate part of his body. The letters come off wonky and wobbly.
It brings him a sense of déjà vu. The prickling pain in his heart, the unshed tears in his eyes, the letters of his name on a hospital form, for Choi Beomgyu, these are all things that he has done before. And he is doing it again, despite knowing it will only bring him pain just like it did in the past.
The receptionist snatches the paper as soon as he is done with it and disappears behind a white door that has TRAUMA CENTER written in red, illuminated letters above it. It gives him the scare, honestly.
Then, a bed is being pushed out of the door with Beomgyu lying lifelessly on it, torso covered in red. A nurse is holding a blood bag high while another is pumping into his veins. Another one is putting a lot of gauze on his stomach. There’s an intubation tube down his slender throat.
Soobin watches unmoving as they pass by him towards the hallway. All his world comes tumbling down. The tremors in his limbs have stopped. Now he is paralysed.
So, it was not a joke , he thinks to himself, I wish it was.
There are people moving around him. But all he can hear is a muted buzz. Is it normal to feel this sad? He is over his feelings for Beomgyu. He has made sure to get rid of every bit of it. The heartbreak had been harsh on him. He had resented Beomgyu for leaving him to hurt all alone.
He has always imagined what it’d be like if he happens to see Beomgyu again. He has imagined all sorts of scenarios, one where they talk, one where they ignore each other, one where they make up, one where they realise they are better off without each other.
But this is not it.
He does not know how long he stands there. People just give him looks of pity. He knows that much though. Yet, he continues standing there. His feet refuse to move. The heaviness in his heart has spread to every inch of his body.
He isn’t crying either. The tears have dried. He’s just…he’s just there. An immense amount of sadness washed over him in waves, freezing him up.
He really loved Beomgyu. He loved him more than his soul. The breakup had been a slap to his face. He spent months hoping Beomgyu would come back but he never did. Instead, he heard Beomgyu moved back to Daegu.
He had been the prettiest omega in his eyes. So caring and kind, always knowing Soobin’s emotions like the back of his hand. His white lily scent had been Soobin’s favourite. The sound of his laughter still rings in his ears.
And all of a sudden, he became a stranger to him. He was told to never contact the omega again. Soobin had been too heartbroken to chase after him. Just like that, eight whole years have passed, their hardships and memories have become so distant that Soobin wondered if they were just a fragment of his imagination.
A hand pats on his shoulder. The muscles at the back of his neck are stiff when he turns around slowly. The receptionist from earlier is giving him a look of sympathy before he hands him a phone with a packet of fresh scent patches.
“I thought you’d need one,” he says, patting him again twice.
He does accept the things with a slow nod. The emotions have been so much that he didn’t even realise his scent is all over the place.
With slow steps, he treads over to the bathroom round the corner of the hallway. The reflection in the bathroom mirror reminds of the Soobin of eight years ago, fresh off a breakup. He hates it so much. He has left that part of his life behind after so much struggle only for it to resurface with a single glimpse of him.
The patch on his neck is nearly falling off. The overload of scent must have rendered it useless. He flicks it off and throws it into the waste bin. He hates this too. He is known for being able to control his scent splendidly well since his presentation. But for some reason, he forgets this innate skill when it comes to Beomgyu.
If Beomgyu was not unconscious back when he was rolled down the hallway, he would easily detect the worry in Soobin’s scent. He would smile that pretty smile of his that Soobin loved so much and say, ‘hyung, you’re so easy to read ’, taking pride in his supposed talent when in fact, it’s Soobin’s fault for failing to control his scent whenever he’s around the omega.
As he’s told, he walks to the waiting lounge in the surgery unit. The sun has begun to dim. It’s almost the end of a working day. He leans back on the wall and his head hits it with a soft thud.
He could really get fired for leaving office without prior notice to their team leader. And that would be a disaster. He got his job at the expense of so many things, sleepless nights, many part time jobs, and after enduring his heartbreak. The new job had helped him immensely in healing his broken heart. He had immersed himself in the workload, not giving his brain a chance to wander to places he did not want.
The phone, which he assumed to be Beomgyu’s, rings where he has placed beside him, startling him out of his painful reverie.
Sweetheart Taehyunnie , the caller ID reads.
The way the number is saved is typical Beomgyu style. He changed his own contact name in Soobin’s phone to My Pretty Beomgyu too.
He picks up the call. He decides he should at least let someone actually relevant to Beomgyu know about the situation. Someone level headed. Not an alpha like him who can’t even control his scent anymore out of nerves.
He does not want to admit it but he’s really scared. Beomgyu’s injury looked serious. What if he never wakes up. He does not want to see Beomgyu’s long lashes resting permanently upon his cheeks. He swallows thickly at the thought. He shouldn’t care but he does. That’s the problem.
He hears a shrill laugh on the other end of the line. A kid’s happy laugh that sounds eerily similar to Beomgyu’s. It sends a spark of light to his dark heart, and a sharp pang of pain at the same time. He clutches at his chest on reflex.
“Papa!” the happy kid’s voice comes next and Soobin’s heart drops to his stomach. Why would a kid call on Beomgyu’s phone and address him as papa ? Unless…
Could it…? No way…It can’t be , his mind runs.
Then he hears another voice, a man’s. Is that this Taehyunnie person? Is Taehyunnie Beomgyu’s…? He does not dare complete the thought. Even after all these years, he does not like the idea. So much for getting over.
“Nari-ah,” he hears the man say, a little distant, “did you call papa again?”
“I just wanted to know when he is coming home,” the kid answers. Soobin can tell from the tone itself that she must be pouting. Beomgyu does that too.
He then hears some shuffles, and the man speaks into the phone, “Hyung, where are you? It’s getting late.”
Soobin is too stunned to answer. A million thoughts are swimming in his head. When the silence stretches for one more minute, he asks again tentatively, “Beomgyu hyung? Are you there?”
The hand holding the phone is sweaty. He racks his brain to find something suitable to answer. He can’t just say ‘hey, Beomgyu is in a critical condition after an accident and I got called for whatever reason by the hospital instead of you.’
“Um…” he begins awkwardly, nonetheless voice choked with tears, “the owner of this phone is in an emergency surgery right now. If you’re close to him, please come to Seobuk Hospital.”
“M…may I know who this is?” the voice on the other line asks bewildered.
“Please come soon,” he says instead.
If he happens to be Beomgyu’s mate, it would cause much trouble. And it wouldn’t be trouble for him but trouble for Beomgyu. He does not want that.
As he ends the call, the lock screen lights up. The screen is chipped at the bottom, possibly from the impact of the crash. The display is a close up picture of Beomgyu and a small girl, smiling so brightly at the camera. They look so happy, and lovely.
It sends a kick to Soobin’s poor heart. He feels horrible that he sees the picture as something he could have had, something that slipped through his fingers. If he could go back in time, he swears he would try harder, even if it meant shedding much more tears than they already did. Soobin is envious.
He then presses the power button thrice, then the screen calling his number pops up. It’s now only ‘Soobin ’ and it pains him more than he’d like to admit. And the fact that he is still Beomgyu’s emergency contact consoles him little.
“What am I doing?” he mumbles to himself, running a hand through his already messed up hair. He puts aside the phone, the lock screen and Beomgyu’s smile, once again lighting up to taunt him.
“Hyung, give me your phone,” Beomgyu said, his hands outstretched.
It was one of those days where their free classes coincided. And such days were always Soobin’s favourite. He could spend hours watching Beomgyu lay around on the grassy lawn, chirping his ear off. He had all the gossip of the uni, the record of class dramas and the latest news in and around the uni. Soobin had always wondered how he did that.
He was lying beside Beomgyu too. The freshly mowed lawn grass pricked through the sorry excuse of a mat Beomgyu had managed to make out of his old scarf. The weather was pleasant, not too humid, not too chilly. Soobin was already bummed at the thought of going back to class.
He handed the brown haired boy his phone far too readily. His phone was basically Beomgyu’s at that point.
“Would it be a bad idea if I grow my hair out again?”
He turned his face to the side and found Beomgyu already looking at him with a serious pout. Now that Soobin took a good look, Beomgyu’s hair was really getting longer. He must have been due for his hair appointment. The omega’s hair always grew super fast.
“I don’t see the reason why you should not,” Soobin answered truthfully, “you looked pretty when you had long hair.”
Sometimes, Beomgyu would need a thousand verbal reassurances on top of the actions and attention he gave to him. And Soobin loved reassuring him. It put him in a position of pride when Beomgyu’s cheek finally bloomed red when he was satisfied. Typical alpha quality.
And he genuinely loved Beomgyu with his long hair. It made his features softer. There was another reason why he loved his long hair. He loved it when Beomgyu’s long hair covered his nape. His neck is something he had always found alluring. Maybe it was because of its association with Beomgyu’s heavenly white lily scent. It pleased the possessive side of his alpha though Soobin would never admit it to Beomgyu.
“But my head is round!” Beomgyu pouted further, and added in a more dejected voice, “Jeonghan hyung from acting class looks ethereal with his, but I look like a porcupine when my long hair is not styled.”
Soobin sighed and took the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, and looked in his eyes as best as he could, “No, you don’t. You looked pretty, gorgeous, beautiful. You looked like an angel.”
Beomgyu was still pouting but the corners of his mouth were threatening to lift. He could tell that he was pleased with his compliments. And Soobin loved the shy smile that broke out after.
“Your opinions are way too subjective.” he said with a fake annoyance though the scent of white lily spread in the vicinity as if a hundred of them had bloomed.
And though Soobin had never known what white lilies smelt like before meeting Beomgyu, now it’s his most favourite of all scents. The hint of vanilla amidst the sweet floral notes suited Beomgyu so well. He couldn’t even imagine another scent other than his white lily for Beomgyu.
“Okay,” Beomgyu yelled short and loud, and opened his phone with a practised entering of his passcode, “consider yourself lucky, ‘cause you’ll be having this short haired Beomgyu as your lock screen till my hair becomes long and thick!”
He did indeed have short haired Beomgyu as his lock screen for way too long, even after Beomgyu’s hair was long and thick. There was a certain charm to Beomgyu’s cheeky picture, with his eyes twinkling and nose so close to the camera. He went through his breakup with that picture still as his lock screen.
He hears rapid footsteps before he can see the owners, a man with a small girl, rushing frantically towards the waiting lounge. He looks young, maybe around Beomgyu’s age. An alpha, judging from the small trail of scent Soobin’s nose can pick up.
And the small girl is the one from the picture. Her hair is braided neatly in two, tied at the ends with two cherry rubber bands. She meets his eyes first, and Soobin’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest. She looks so pure, so cute, very much like Beomgyu. She has the long lashes, the round head, the rosy cheeks. And she carries Beomgyu’s white lily too.
“Ex-excuse me,” the man says to him in a voice full of worried emotions. He has been too focused on the little girl that he momentarily forgot about him.
He figures his job there is over. He stands up and hands Beomgyu’s phone to the man who acknowledges him with a bow. That action does enough talking to make him understand the situation. And though his heart has nothing but concerns for Beomgyu, he lifts his foot to head out of the place. He feels undeserving to be there.
But there’s a tug on the back of his pants before he can hardly take two steps. Then there’s two round, sparkly eyes looking up at him with a kind of happiness that feels too odd for a hospital, let alone a surgery room.
“Nari-ah,” he hears the man say in a soft reprimanding tone, but the little girl smiles so wide as if she cannot contain her excitement.
“You are Choi Soobin, right?” she asks with a beaming smile, “Ahjussi, you are Choi Soobin, right?”
The man now steps in, slowly pulling the girl away, “Nari-ah, Ahjussi seems to be in a hurry. Say thank you.”
But the girl looks at the man and goes on with her little theory, “Oh my God, I’ve found Choi Soobin! Papa would be so proud of me.”
All this while, Soobin is too stunned to speak. He has no idea how this little girl knows him. If she really is Beomgyu’s child, should she really be knowing her father’s past lover? Yet her cheerful voice ignites something inside of him, something he can’t exactly put a finger on. It makes him strangely nervous. A selfish thought blossoms in his head, which he quickly shoves away.
A nurse rushes out of the surgery room, “We need Choi Beomgyu’s guardian at the blood bank right now.”
The man hurriedly gives the small bag he has brought and Beomgyu’s phone to the kid and apologetically tells Soobin, “I’m so sorry, but can you please stay with her for a while?”
He does not actually wait for an answer as he has followed the nurse to the other side of the building. Now it’s Soobin and the little girl alone.
The child lingers around his legs and Soobin does not know what to do. Growing up, he hasn’t been around a lot of kids. And his occasional interactions with kids have always been awkward. Beomgyu is the better one with kids.
There was that one time when he had to babysit his cousin’s son. Soobin was so close to tearing his hair out when Beomgyu arrived and took the situation in stride. Maybe it was the omega in him or maybe it’s just Beomgyu’s gentleness. But the baby was incredibly happy to be in Beomgyu’s arms.
“Um…do you…” he points over to the seats.
The girl nods happily and takes a seat, dangling her short legs. She’s holding her strawberry patterned backpack to her chest and Beomgyu’s phone in one hand. And she looks too happy for someone whose father got into an accident. Soobin doubts she knows about it. Or at least, the severity of the situation.
Soobin, on the other hand, is shaking out of his skin. Blood bank means blood transfusion. Beomgyu’s condition must be more serious than he hopes it to be. Plus, the surgery has been going for three hours now.
“Do you know what happened to my papa?” the girl asks, still swinging her legs, then looks towards the operation theatre, “Uncle Tyun said he got a tiny scratch. But why are they taking too long to treat him? When I get a scratch, papa always puts a yellow ointment and the pain goes away.”
Oh, she’s a talker just like Beomgyu, Soobin notes.
“Un…uncle Tyun?”
“Yup,” she nods, “Uncle Tyun is my papa’s best friend. I have another uncle. Uncle Jun.”
“Is your uncle Tyun the one who went just now?” he asks, his heart thumping in his chest. He has no business being so curious yet he finds himself anticipating the answer.
“Yup.”
It feels like a splash of cold water in his face. If this uncle Tyun is not the kid’s father, then…
He might be completely wrong here, but the ache, the pull, the sting he feels in his heart when he sees the kid aid to his delusion. And suddenly there’s beads of cold sweat gathered in his forehead. It can’t be, can it?
Beomgyu said he’d give it up. He told him as clear as day, with no room for arguments.
He swallows thickly, “M-may I know how old you are?”
“I’m seven years old,” she says gleefully, with seven of her fingers propped up.
7 years, that means she was born after they broke up. And right before they broke up, Beomgyu had gotten pregnant. Soobin’s heart drops. Air rushes out of his lungs and he heaves in his seat. This can’t be happening.
He looks at the girl’s worried face and the pull in his chest tightens. Would Beomgyu really do this to him?
He gathers himself as best as he can, and tries to dispel the emotions from his voice, “How did you know me?”
The girl visibly brightens at the change of topic. Her previously furrowed brows widen and she grins up at him, “Papa showed me your picture. He has lots of pictures of you on his phone.”
“H-he does?”
“Yup,” she says immediately, “you want to see?”
Before he can answer, she’s unlocking Beomgyu’s phone with practised ease, which terribly reminds him of Beomgyu, and shows him a folder in his cloud. There’s nothing written there, except for a tree emoji.
4319 items.
Beomgyu loved taking pictures. He’d always whip out his film camera or his phone, even capturing the most mundane things. Most of Soobin’s pictures that he took were of daily life. It is not surprising that Beomgyu had that many pictures of him. But it is surprising that he chose to keep them all.
For him, the pictures he had of Beomgyu and of them together went with every new phone he switched. And he thought it’d be less painful if he did not have to see Beomgyu’s face every time he missed him.
It was the middle of December. Christmas was right around the corner. And then a week-long winter break, as the uni would like to call it. Beomgyu hadn’t been coming to college lately. The last time Soobin saw him, he looked pale and sickly. The younger guy told him he might have caught the stomach flu but it wasn’t very convincing. He could tell Beomgyu was not being honest. He could tell by the burnt petal scent.
‘Are you really okay?’ He sent a text, then added another, ‘Do you want me to come over?’
The weather was not very favourable. There had been a snowstorm warning and it hadn’t stopped snowing for a while now. This year could be the most snow Seoul could see. However, if Beomgyu said he needed him, he would get to him somehow. He would abandon the load of work he had piled up before him.
He was supposed to give the public service exam next month. If he cleared that exam, and complete his uni course on an average score, that would land him a proper placement in the job market. His mom and dad had been urging him to get a job before his mind got dull. Beomgyu, too, had been nothing but supportive.
But studying when he and his omega had been far apart for too long, was proving difficult. The alpha inside of him was itching, trying to break free, convince him to go get his omega. And his human self was restless. If only Beomgyu didn’t act like he wanted some time for himself, he would go and grovel at his door.
He missed the feeling of his long flowy hair through his fingers. He missed the gentleness of his scent. He missed the sound of his laughter. He missed the mindless ramblings.
He was worried too. Though Beomgyu would get sick now and then, it looked different this time. His scent was different too, something muted mixed in with his white lily.
What he felt for Beomgyu had long transcended mere physical attraction. Though they hadn’t mated yet, his alpha had already seen him as a potential mate. And so did his heart.
He realised he loved Beomgyu while they were in his dingy studio apartment, making hangover soup after their wild night out. The soup was nowhere near good, with neither of them being a good cook. Still, it hit them in the bones and did a good enough job to relieve them of the migraine building up at the back of their heads.
Beomgyu was in his spare t-shirt, askew and all scrunched up from sleep. His hair was sticking out in all directions, unruly and tangled. Nonetheless, he looked breathtaking in Soobin’s eyes. It took everything in his might not to pull Beomgyu in and kiss the living daylights out of him.
A trail of soup dribbled down his cheek though Beomgyu didn’t seem to care. He only groaned and exclaimed in bliss when the hot soup reached his stomach. A level of fondness which he was alien to, erupted in his chest as he watched Beomgyu take spoonfuls after spoonfuls of his soup with the microwaved rice.
And that was when he realised that there couldn’t be anyone other than Beomgyu in his life. The omega brought along with him all the things that he lacked in his life. He compensated well for Soobin’s passive, non-assertive nature with his straightforward, easy self. There was some much needed progress in his stagnant life with Beomgyu’s arrival. Dating and liking Beomgyu also made him want to work for the best version of himself.
He was also the main reason why he decided to take this whole public exam, job-seeking thing seriously. Before, he would just live life as it got thrown his way. Beomgyu was like that too, but there was a difference. The younger omega lived and enjoyed the present, while Soobin lived in what the present brought for him because he had no other choice.
There was a slow, hesitant knock on the door, bringing him out of his memories. He quickly glanced outside and saw the snow steadily falling still. Another solo, slow knock hit the door and he hurried to remove his legs from under the table as fast as he could. He got a sharp wave of pins and needles travelling up his shin in the process. Who could it be? Could it be Beomgyu? But if Beomgyu were to come, he’d tell him on the phone first.
He opened the door, and was greeted with Beomgyu in his blue, woollen beanie and a scarf so thick he was drowning in it. The tip of his nose was redder than a strawberry and so were his eyes. He looked like he just had a big crying session or it could just be from his travel in the dropping temperature. Soobin really hoped it was the latter one.
And he knew he was wrong immediately when Beomgyu stepped inside without a word, removed his scarf and gave him a weak smile. The controlled scent aided his suspicion. Beomgyu only hid his scent around him when he was sad. There were just too many signs that Beomgyu wasn’t his usual self. And for some reason, Soobin wanted to not acknowledge it. If he did, he knew he might have to lose all that was precious to him.
“Quick, get in here,” he called Beomgyu over to where he sat earlier, under the electric heated blanket, “I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
His makeshift kitchen was not even two steps away, and he could see Beomgyu rubbing his hands and blowing his breath on them in an attempt to warm them. He mixed the last of his cocoa powder stock into the mug with the bear ears and poured the milk he warmed on the stove.
The way Beomgyu was fidgeting on his seat told him he had something to tell him. And with all the recents events, Soobin knew it could not be a happy news. Still, he put on a smile that he hoped concealed his nerves and sat on the opposite side of the table. His sock clad feet met Beomgyu’s own under the blanket. Beomgyu didn’t smile like he usually did when their feet touched. That was the warning sign that things were pretty grave.
“Here,” he pushed the drink in front of Beomgyu who took it up immediately. His slender fingers came to wrap around the mug, holding it tighter than he possibly needed to.
Soobin noticed all of these. He saw how the muscles in the omega’s jaws were tensed, the redness at the nail bed of his thumb from where he was continuously picking, a nervous habit of Beomgyu which he couldn’t seem to make him break. He didn’t want to voice it out because doing so would make it all the more real.
So, he asked in his head, as he fixed his eye on Beomgyu who hadn’t looked up from his mug of hot cocoa, ‘Are you breaking up with me?’
“Why did you come in the cold?” he said instead, “You could've had me over.”
“I needed the cold,” Beomgyu muttered softly, biting onto the bottom of his lips like he was holding back a sob. He could sense the burnt petals again, increasing in intensity little by little, leaking against Beomgyu’s control.
It sent him into panic mode. His alpha screamed at him to comfort his omega, soothe him, scent him, anything to make his sadness go away. But he stayed rooted to his seat. Because if there was anything Beomgyu hadn’t managed to change in him, it was his cowardice. He was never the brave alpha that people expected.
“Still, what if you get sick again?” he wasn’t nagging because he wanted to. Despite being genuinely worried for Beomgyu, he felt this could be his last opportunity to get to nag Beomgyu about his health. Whenever he got sick, it was always bad.
The room reeked of rotten flowers, wet with monsoon with no sunlight. And Beomgyu sniffled once, twice, then rummaged through his bag. For the first time since he arrived, he finally met his eyes. Those eyes that were always full of stars were no longer there. It pained Soobin right to the core to witness it.
“Here,” Beomgyu said, placing a paper before him, along with a pen.
The paper was right in front of him, but Soobin could not bring himself to look at it. He kept his eyes fixed on Beomgyu, who was trying to not shed the tears already welling up on his own. For Beomgyu to be like this, he knew it had to be beyond salvation. And he was scared to face it.
Like always.
“Beom-”
“I’m pregnant.”
The omega dropped the words before he could say anything. The shock on his face must have shown because Beomgyu was laughing, although wetly and assuring him that it was no big deal. Still, it stunned Soobin.
Beomgyu was pregnant. He got him pregnant. And Beomgyu was sad because of that.
He swallowed and swallowed but he couldn’t manage to force any sound out of his throat. That was better in a way, a perfect excuse for the lack of words in his mind. Beomgyu’s smiling face was now too much for him to bear.
The lonely sheet of paper on the table could be nothing better. Yet, he figured looking at it would be a hundred times safer than Beomgyu who was trying to laugh the situation off though he knew how much it affected him.
CONSENT FORM FOR ABORTION
“I…I’ve already signed,” Beomgyu said in his fake-happy voice, “You should sign it too.”
The signature was there, written in thick, black ink, Choi Beomgyu. And beside it was the space where Soobin was supposed to sign. There were thoughts after thoughts running in his mind. Everything was going at a much faster pace than he could catch up.
Plus, the word ‘abortion’ instilled a dull, yet intense sting in his heart. Beomgyu was pregnant. He got him pregnant. It was the fruit of their love. They were supposed to be happy. But why were they both shedding tears?
The tears just wouldn’t stop. The ache was too big, the thought of having to send a part of him, a part of Beomgyu away before they could even embrace them, horrified him. Beomgyu was no better. He was wiping every tear that left his eyes, as if he would despise it to be seen.
“Beomgyu-ah,” he croaked out, choking on a sob, “let…let’s think this through please.”
“Hyung, I have,” Beomgyu answered exasperatedly, shoving the pen in his hand, between his fingers, “It’s my body. I have thought it over so many times.” There was a tone of impatience in his voice. He probably wanted this to be done soon.
‘It’s my body.’
That sealed his mouth. Whatever little argument he formed in his head to try and convince Beomgyu dissipated into thin air. It was his body. He couldn’t force him to do what he didn’t like.
But the sniffles and soured scent told him another story. Their memories together told him another story. Beomgyu, with his kind heart, who adored babies, kittens, puppies and everything of that sort, told him he should fight more.
“It’s my body, hyung,” Beomgyu said again, like he knew those very words would trap Soobin, “And it is not ready for this.”
He had signed the paper. Choi Soobin, he wrote in wonky letters, blinded by the unshed tears. His hands shook and trembled, as he signed agreeing to the conditions of the paper, granting his permission to destroy what they created solely out of love and affection.
The omega quickly took the paper as soon as he finished the last stroke of his name. It was as if he was scared Soobin would change his mind. Soobin would never go against what Beomgyu thought would be better for them, for him. But he couldn’t understand how the soft-hearted omega could be so firm in his decision when he was already grieving.
He didn’t realise his hands were still trembling where they lay fisted on top of the table. Beomgyu’s hands came to wrap around his, similar to the way he had gripped the mug earlier- tighter than necessary like he was grounding himself. They were still cold as ice.
“What should we do for Christmas?” he smiled at him, though there were tears streaming down his face, collecting at his chin in big droplets before they fell on the baby blue blanket.
'Why are you pretending to be fine?' He asked in his head because he wasn’t brave enough. 'And why am I breaking down when I should be comforting you?'
Beomgyu continued to hold his hands, caressing him with his thumb, showing he was there for him when he himself was hurting too. He, on the other hand, couldn’t help the sobs that wrecked through his body. There were a million emotions weighing over him.
He failed Beomgyu. He made him sad. He made him go through all of these. The guilt hung heavy on him.
“H-how long…” he managed to choke out and through blurry eyes, he saw Beomgyu sport a genuine smile this time, despite the tears, looking down at his lap.
“Three weeks.”
He rubbed at his eyes, willing the tears to go away so that he could see the expression once again. And Beomgyu really did look happy.
“A-and you were alone for three weeks,” he stated, as a matter of fact, more to himself, “Was it not lonely?”
“It was,” Beomgyu sobbed, “I wanted to tell you soon but I couldn’t.” The omega now broke into desperate sobs with his head bowed down. His hair, now long, covered his face but the way his shoulders shook was an indication that Beomgyu was far more heartbroken than what he let on.
“I thought it couldn’t be since I wasn’t in heat when we did it,” he hiccupped further, “I’m sorry, hyung.”
“Why are you sorry? If anything, it should be my fault,” he told him but Beomgyu only cried harder, repeating himself over and over again.
“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m sorry. I ruined everything.”
“Ahjussi, when will my papa come out?”
But now, as Soobin stares at the little girl beside him, who carries sunshine in her smile, stars in her eyes and lilies in her scent, just like her father, he’s so relieved. He’s so thankful that Beomgyu didn’t carry on with the abortion. He isn’t even angry at him for keeping him in the dark. He’s so fucking relieved that he wouldn’t have to live with the guilt and grief for the remainder of his life like he lived for the past eight years.