"Can I ask you something?" he does not leave me alone when I thought he would, but since I don't have another choice, I let him speak. "Have you ever felt uncomfortable because of your father? Has something already made you feel weird?"

"No," I simply answer. "Never? No touches make you uncomfortable with him?"

I shake my head, keeping my tired voice in, and he goes back on his laptop to type more. "Does that mean you always like it when he touches you?"

I hesitate before saying anything, not liking the way he framed this sentence. "I don't feel uncomfortable," I make it clear but see that I didn't answer the way he waited for me to, once more. I avoided it. "Can you tell me which spots of your body he touches the most when you both hug each other?"

I remain soundless and look down at the table, not confident about this question at all. "He doesn't touch any spot, he just hugs me."

"But when you both fall asleep together, he has to put his hands somewhere on your body, doesn't he?" he obliges me to tell him something I don't want to, so I stay quiet. "Does he not give you some caresses to soothe you? There is nothing wrong with this, you know. You can tell me about it."

I shake my head. "He doesn't do that."

"Then what does he do?" his voice ticks me off, and I set my eyes on a wall to act like I cannot see him near me. "He doesn't do anything. I told you already. My dad is someone good, and he would never do anything bad to me. The one who should have been taken is my mom, she's the one who hurt me and never treats me like a daughter."

"Why do you feel that way towards your mother? Does she hurt you physically, mentally?" he finally drops it to get to something else. "She hurts me with her words most of the time, but she already slapped me."

"Did your father see it?" he listens to me. "No, I never told him about it..."

"Why?" he straightens his back, leaning over to be closer to the screen. "Because I don't want him to be worried."

"Hm...okay," he pauses for a minute and includes everything I said in his notes. "Do you sometimes feel some kind of jealousy when you see your father with her? When they kiss or hug each other?"

"No," I tell the truth, despite the hatred I feel when I see her receive the love she does not deserve. "All right,  and do you have a boyfriend?"

"I don't..." my eyes focus on something else, this question bringing back some memories I would like to not think about. Jungkook, I need to stop thinking about him. "Has your father already talked about relationships with boys?"

"Yes," I nod. "Do you know about sexual education? Who taught you about this?"

"My dad and school..." I look at the door, not longer handling the way I feel because of the stress. "Your dad taught you about this? What has he talked about with you?"

"I don't want to talk about this," I refuse to answer him. "Has he talked only or showed you physically?"

"Talked only," I make it obvious that he's bothering me. "I know that you said you feel good when he touches you, but what does that mean exactly? Does that make you feel relaxed or do you feel more that makes you want him to continue?"

"No," I pass my fingers over my cheekbone, feeling on the verge of crying. "I know you don't dare to tell us, and that's always how that happens in this type of situation, so I need to be more straight-forward with you. You must probably like it because he's an attractive and handsome man, right?" his persistence forces me to ignore every word he says. "Has he already put his hands on your underwear? Inside of them or under your clothes?"

"No...stop asking me those questions..." I say under my breath, feeling way too affected by the words he's using while talking about my dad. "Why do you feel uncomfortable talking about it if he never did anything wrong? Isn't your mother aware of this?"

"Aware of what?" some tears fill my eyes, the pressure he's putting over my shoulders now crushing me. "Aware of the way your father touches you, don't you think that is the reason why she maybe doesn't feel okay with you? What if she's jealous of the way he gives love to you?"

"He doesn't do anything wrong, he just takes care of me because I'm his daughter, what is wrong about that?" I slowly lose my temper, not accepting what he says when all this time, the other man was way softer with his words. "Y/n, your mother told us that she already heard some noise when you were in the bedroom with your father at night. What you say does not match with what she told us. She cares a lot about you, and she knows that your dad manipulates you in order to not be considered as a bad man, but what he does to you isn't right, and you know it."

"No, I don't know it. What I know is that she does not care about me, and she lied!" I don't hold my anger back anymore, getting pissed off now that he's stating some stuff that is not true, and which trespasses what is acceptable. "Stay calm...we're just here to help you. Your mother is really concerned about you, and she knows, she explained to us that you already told her about what he does to you when she's not home...Do you want me to remind you of those events? This is human, when you get hurt by the one you trust and love a lot, your brain sometimes erases those painful memories and makes you forget them."

"You're lying. Stop telling me that because nothing bad or wrong ever happened," I look at him and try to cease this, crying only because of his behavior, his falsehood that make my dad a horrible man. "Why did your mother tell us that she saw you with your dad in your bed then? Hm? And we both know he was not just there to help you fall asleep. He was doing more, wasn't he?"

"No, he was not. You are disgusting," I stare into his eyes and do not restrain my words anymore. "I know what it is to be touched inappropriately, my teacher did it to me, but never my dad did. So stop talking about him that way. You have the right to question me, but do not state things that are, in no way, true and that never happened."

"He talked about it with us," he nods. "We know about that teacher who hurt you, but you have to face the truth no matter how painful and hard it is, y/n. What was he doing to you on that night? It was on your birthday, right? Your seventeenth birthday. He wanted to gift you with something that would make you feel like a woman, didn't he?"

"He did not!" I shout and hit the table with my hands, "What don't you understand?!"

"Y/n, stay calm, please," he dares to ask me to keep calm after all the words he let out. "I just want to know the truth. Your mother told us about it, how do we know who's telling the truth? The one who claimed to have seen you with her husband in a bed, or you and your father who would probably not want anyone to know about this secret? Try to understand us as well. Are you ashamed of what you felt when he was doing it to you?"

"He was not doing anything—"

"What about the feeling you got inside at that moment? You know, the one you talked about with your mother that made you feel different, your dad told you this was to make you become a woman, wasn't it?" he dares to tell some things that I know she invented to get him caught. What kind of thing has she said? This can't be real.

"Hm? You're too scared to talk about it with us, right? You probably don't want to remember the feeling this brought into you when that happened...but this was not your fault, this is just a reaction of your body and—"

"He never did anything! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!" I raise my voice without even realizing it, staring at him and begging him to not say such things anymore. My heart is pounding so hard, I can barely breathe. "Sweetheart. Your mother, she told us about that conversation you had with her. She saw it happening in your room, it was in the dark, do you remember that? And you didn't ask him to stop because you were feeling good, but she entered the room to put an end to it, and that's when you felt like something was wrong. We know it, y/n."

I shake my head and hide my face with my hands, letting the tears roll down. "When she asked you what happened, you told her about him taking your virginity, doing it with your consent. He did not do anything against your will, he listened to you, he asked if you were all right to make sure he wouldn't hurt you, so you felt safe, but when you talked to your mother, you understood that he shouldn't have done this to you."

"Stop..." I put my arms over the table to keep my face between them. "I know this must hurt...but you can let it out now that you're alone in here."

"Does he—" the door opens and interrupts him, to my greatest relief. The man comes back with the glass of water, and he places it on the table, but I don't drink, I don't want to.

•••

3:50 pm.

After endless minutes spent in this room, I go out, physically and mentally drained. Haneul stands up as soon as he sees me, and I walk up to him to hug him., however, another man comes up to us. "Miss Sang, you can come with me."

"Why?" I don't let go of Haneul, but this tall and intimidating man fixes his eyes on me. "You have the right to see your father for a few minutes," his words make my heart jump, and I dart my eyes in Haneul's direction. "I'm waiting here," he smiles and steps back, so I hurry to follow the officer.

We walk through the hallways, passing by different rooms, my heart racing and punching me in the chest. I cannot wait to be in his arms, to feel and hear him comfort me. "You have the right to stay with him for ten minutes, all right? One of my colleagues will come and bring you out once the time is over."

"All right," I do not express any kind of dissatisfaction, I'm way too happy about seeing him that I do not want to complain.

"Here it is," he stops in front of a door, and he takes a key to unlock it, open it, and reveal the small room in which my dad is kept. "Papa..." I burst into tears and run towards him to hold him tight, and he does it too. "Honey..." he does not hug me like usual but makes it more restrained as if he was afraid to hold me the way he does it at home.

I do not even know what to say, I just cling onto him and cry in his chest, not talking about the things they said about him, what they implied and caused me to see in my head. "What are you doing here? Have you come here all by yourself?"

"I called Haneul, and we came here because of Alex..." I try to speak properly without stuttering through my sobs. "They interrogated me...and I think they're doing it to Haneul as well..."

"They interrogated you?" he glances down and moves back without letting go of me. "They didn't do anything wrong or pressure you, right? You're okay, aren't you?" his tough hands that usually are warm cup my face with coldness, and I look into his eyes with difficulty. "I'm okay...I just want you to come back home..."

"I'll be home soon," his thumb caresses my cheek, wiping the tears and wetness off of my skin. "Stay with Haneul until I come back, all right?"

"I will," I nod and promise him. I do not want to see that woman again anyway. He stares into my eyes and smiles at me, managing to be positive even in this situation. I cannot even have the strength to return it. "Make sure to sleep and eat, even if I'm not here, that does not mean I'm in pain or danger, so don't make yourself go through any kind of pain, everything is okay. Understood, honey?" he softens the sound of his voice, calming me down in an effortless manner. "Yes..."

He looks exhausted, he's the one going through hell because of his wife, but yet, he's the one comforting me. He keeps a smile on his face, and the back of his hand gets rid of my teardrops. We both remain quiet, and he leans closer to put his arms around my body and put his face against the side of my head. I close my eyes to enjoy the last minutes in his arms, knowing that I won't go to bed with a hug or kiss from him, without hearing him tell me that he loves me.

His left hand that was on my shoulder moves up to my ear. "I can't give you a kiss here," he whispers and pulls his hand down. "Okay?" he gazes at me. "Okay..." I understand the reason for this. "What are you going to eat for dinner?" he changes of subject, and I snivel, feeling my heart slow down. "I don't know yet."

"Eat a lot and don't starve," he glides his hands over my arms, not displaying as much affection as usual because of the people here. "Your eyes are so puffy, stop crying for me, this will break my heart even more if I know you're not feeling okay."

"I'm trying...but this worries me..." I toy with his shirt, hoping for these seconds that already passed to be very short and allow us some more time together. "Don't be worried, I promise everything will be okay. You know I'm always right, don't you?" his bright smile widens, growing even bigger. I smile and nod.

"Then no need to be scared, just think about when I'll be back, we'll eat your favorite dish together. Just think about that," he finds a way to make me relax, and I do my best to do as told to make sure I don't add more concern to his mind. "And if eating takes your mind off of things, eat as much as you want even if that makes you feel bloated. No one will know or see," he laughs in a quiet and gentle manner, knowing my reaction whenever I hear it. I keep a smile on my face without even paying attention to it, but his fingers wipe my cheekbone. "Your cute makeup is all smeared and almost gone now."

"It's fine, I'll remove it once I'm home anyway," I shrug, not caring about this small detail. "How much time have you spent to do this?" he speaks without talking about the sensitive topic, trying to erase the black over my skin. "I don't know...two hours? I think."

"Two hours?" he raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes. "That's a lot."

"Not really," I disagree but smile at him, and the door behind me opens. The delight and soothe that was inside me disappear in the blink of an eye, and he looks at the man who entered the room. "The time is over, Miss Sang."

I put my face against his chest and hold him for the last seconds, making him return it in a shy manner. "I love you," I tear up anew, never giving a break to my body or mind. "I love you too, be careful and tell Haneul if you don't feel good. All right?"

"All right," I grip his shirt, not opening my eyes yet, feeling good in his arms. "Eat well, have a good night, and do not let any thoughts worry you, honey," he brushes his hands past my back to pull away, so I step back and gaze up at him. "I love you..."

"I love you too, honey. Stop crying," a forced smile form's on his face, "Come on, we'll see each other soon."

I nod but walk out of the room without wanting to, glancing at him before the man closes the door, I wave at him, and he does the same. "I'm closing the door," the man warns me in a kind manner and pushes the door.

"Were you accompanied by someone?" he turns towards me, and I nod. "My best friend."

"What's his name?" he moves up to me and leads me back to the waiting room. "Haneul."

"All right, he just came back from an interrogation," he says, and my eyes land on the only man I can count on now. I step towards him as he stood up, and I put my arms around him.

"Let's go home, please..." I swallow, the tight knot hurting me, never finding a way to control my emotions. "Yes," he presses a kiss on my forehead and grabs my hand to leave this place.

I do not even say anything, I just cry to let everything out, but his concern does not disappear, he does not handle it. He keeps on peeking at me, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

"They interrogated me as well, I hope it wasn't too tough for you. Their questions were...disgusting..." he sighs but gets to the car, and I wipe my tears away. "I hate them. They said horrible things."

"What did they say?" he stops before entering the vehicle, and he stands before me. "She lied and made up some stuff...I want to kill her..." the thoughts those words created ruin my head again. "She said I talked to her about him and that she saw us in my bed, doing something..."

"Goddammit," he clenches his jaw and glances away. "Do not think about it, okay? I know it's hard, but we both know none of it is true."

"Yes...but they made me think of disgusting stuff, and I'm scared it might not go away..." I tell him the truth about this concern that grew into me the more their questions were about inappropriate stuff. "This will go away, once he will hold you and reassure you, all those thoughts will just vanish, but right now, you're just in a difficult situation, once you'll be out of it, you'll feel way better."

I nod and hug him before entering the car.

— Three days later —

Saturday, December 19, 2020.

10 pm.

'JUNGKOOK'S P.O.V'

"Jungkook," my mom knocks on the door of my bedroom, so I wipe my tears away, look away from my phone screen, and clear my throat. "Yeah?"

"Don't you want anything to eat? You barely ate the food I cooked for dinner," she worries about me no matter how hard I try to hide the way I feel. "No, I'm not hungry, mom."

"Are you sure?" she insists. "I have some cookies, maybe you could eat them if you ever wake up in the middle of the night and feel hungry..."

Knowing this will hurt me to tell her 'no', I agree and let her in. I turn my phone to not let her see my face since the lights are turned off, and I give her some light to come closer. "Here," she places the dish on my nightstand. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks," I kindly refuse, and she smiles at me. "Okay, have a good night, honey, and don't forget you can talk to me if something is going on. Okay?"

"Okay, mom, I will. Sleep tight, I love you," I swallow my grief, the knot in my throat blocking the way. "I love you too, sweetie, sleep tight," she leaves the bedroom and closes the door behind her, so I take a moment, not moving but nibbling on my bottom lip as I can feel the tears roll down my cheeks.

I snivel but look back at my screen, and I go back to the gallery I left a minute ago. Keeping those pictures of y/n is not a good idea, looking at them again is torture, but why can't I stop? It's like if I was living those moments anew, but without being there, without feeling the emotions I felt back then.

I let my eyes get flooded with water, scrolling down and hurting myself. I wipe the tear that left my left eye and try to control my breathing while feeling the physical pain in my chest.

I sniffle but lock my phone and lay it on my torso, not handling what I feel anymore. I turn to the side and let my device end on the sheets, I pull the blanket up and cover my body and head with it. I need to be alone, we're on holidays, Christmas is coming, but yet I do not feel happy or good at all.

'YOUR P.O.V'

"Here we are," Alex parks the car in front of the gate, so I and my dad both tell him goodbye and get out. Once he's next to me, I take his hand and hold it all the way up to the front door.

"Is she still here?" I gaze up at him, none of us talking like usual. "No, honey. She's not here anymore, she won't ever be," he relieves me from my fears, his thumb stroking the back of my hand to reassure me. We both reach the door after short seconds, and he unlocks it, finally being back to normal to spend the evening together.

I let go of his hand to free him from my grip, and we take our shoes, our jackets off. He leaves this spot first but turns towards me. "I'm going to take a shower and get in comfortable clothes, okay?" he smiles at me, so return it and nod. "We'll cook our meal together once I'm back," he softly tells me and walks up the stairs.

I'm going to do the same to feel even better and at home as I used to do before.