Hannie looks back at himself in the mirror with hollow eyes. I watch his pupils shrink and focus on every tiny mark on his face. Every bruise. He looks beat to hell, because he was. Looking at the marks makes my blood boil. I can't wait to get my hand wrapped around their throats, so I can beat them to bloody pulps.

"I'm going to need better concealer," he says with no emotion whatsoever. His fingertips gently touch his face. He's tracing a cut over his eye and hovering over a large bruise on his jaw.

"I'll get you everything that you need."

"We could just make a stop at my house for most of the things I need."

I shake my head and don't wait for him to continue his thoughts as I say, "I sent Yeji out a bit ago to get you new things." His eyes dart to mine in the mirror.

"That's very kind, but I don't need-"

"It's not about need. It's about you pleasing me. I seem to recall you saying you'd do what I asked?" His face falls and I feel like a prick. But he fucking needs this. He won't let me in any other way.

"I want to see Baekhyun."

" You should shower first," I say, and as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back in. Who am I to keep him away from him? He's his son. But he really looks like he will. I can only imagine how he'd react seeing his mom all beat up. "If you wanna-"

"You're right. I'll shower first." He turns around with his back to me and looks at the shower. It's nothing like what I have at home. I have a state of the art shower system with rainforest shower heads and a solid bench to relax on with the steam going. It also happens to be good for fucking, too. But we're not at my house yet. I wanna get him put together before he sees Baekhyun, and he's staying with Ma till then. So instead he's gonna have to settle for a simple tub and shower setup with a plain white curtain. I mean, it'll do the trick, but it's not going to feel nearly as nice, especially on his sore muscles.

"I have a steam room at my home. Just clean up here and you can relax tonight."
He turns his head slowly to look at me. I wish he'd fucking talk to me. A tight smile pulls at my lips. Really, though, how much has he said to me since I've met him? Nothing, really. He's barely said anything to me. Other than his texts on why we shouldn't be fucking. I may have looked him up and practically stalked him, but he doesn't know much about me at all. And I was just doing what I needed to, so I could get him in bed.

It's painfully obvious that I don't know this man. I almost got him killed, and I don't even know him. And he sure as hell doesn't know me. "Go ahead and hop in, little tiger. I'll sit here and keep you company." I try to lighten my tone.

He slips off the baggy shirt I put him in and pulls back the curtain with one hand while covering his body with the other. My eyes linger on every bruise, the bandages around his wrists and ankles. I need to get my mind off this shit. I take a seat on the bench by the towel rack and sit back with my ankles crossed.

"Remember the bandages-" I start, but he doesn't let me finish.
"I know. I'll leave them on until I get out." A moment passes in silence.

"You like sports, little tiger?" It's my go-to conversation starter.

For all occasions. It's something I know enough about to dominate the conversation, so I just run with it."I was raised a Dolphins fan, so I'm used to hating football by now." His sarcastic answer isn't what I expected. I chuckle and grin with my eyes on his vague silhouette behind the curtain."Dolphins? How the hell did that happen?" I ask with the smile still on my face. It's a rare day when I suggest betting on Miami. But if that's what he likes, so be it.

My dad liked them. I liked dolphins. It was an easy choice. I mean, they're like the only team to go into the Super Bowl undefeated, right?"I huff a laugh. "That was like two decades ago."

"Still counts." His upbeat reply makes me grin. "I like watching the games. I used to go out to a bar and watch them every Sunday. Beer, pizza, wings. You know the way it is. It's a nice escape."

"Used to?"

"Life goes busy." He answers with less enthusiasm, making me wish I'd prompted a different question, like who he used to go with. But I know he met his husband in college, so I can guess that answer, and I don't like it. I smirk at the curtain. "So you know something about football?"

"I know a little. Like I know the game. I just don't know the players.""What about other sports?"His voice noticeably changes. More engaging, more excited. "Baekhyun plays soccer."

"Isn't he three?"

"Well, you know, he likes to kick the ball on the field."

"So your little man is an athlete?" I asked him, but he quit. His hands have fallen to his side.

It's silent for a moment; the water spray is the only noise I can hear. And then I watch as his hands move to his face and a sob comes from the shower."Little tiger, you alright?" My stomach drops. I wonder if it's finally catching up to him now. If he's going into shock like the doctor was worried about."Minho?" he finally asks. His words are muted by the flow of the water. "If something happens to me, please don't take it out on my son." My heart clenches and my vision blurs. The smile vanishes off my face. "I have money. I'll do anything-"

"Stop it, Hannie. Nothing's happening to you." I'm hard with my response, but I don't fucking like the way he's talking."I'm not stupid, Minho." His sad voice carries a heavy weight. "Please just don't hurt him." I have to take a deep breath and cover my face with my hands. He thinks I'm gonna hurt his son? I can't fucking believe it.

"We don't have family, but I have a friend in Texas." His voice is tight and full of tension. "It's been a while, but-"

"Little tiger. I'm gonna need you to knock it the fuck off before I lose my self-control." That at least gets him to shut up. "I'm not gonna hurt you, or your son."

"You're just going to let me go?"No. My internal answer is immediate, but I don't voice that. I don't know what I want from him. I know I feel like shit about what happened and that I want to make it right. But that's all I know for certain. "You can't go until we have BTS."

"Is that who took me?" he asks with a hesitant voice. We don't talk business with outsiders or women. They stay out of it. Always. I don't know what to tell him. He's just standing still in the shower. The water's going to get cold fast if he doesn't hurry his ass up."Little tiger, wash up." After a moment, he reaches for the body wash. I want him to be at ease; I want him to relax. Letting outsiders or women know about the business isn't a smart thing to do. But then again, he's involved already. "BTS is dead for what they did to you. I promise you that."

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Hey it's that time again💕
A bit short but somehow soft and yet serious. The worries of a mother come through properly in my opinion 🥺
I hope you liked it until tomorrow 😇❤️