âťť once upon a time. âťž
@mixnightingale​ * — thirteen years ago
sweat dripped from the fifteen year old’s forehead as he exited the training room, ivory white teeth ripping the flithy bandages from his hands. the clock struck twelve in the afternoon, a loud bell echoing through the hallways, indicating it was time for the children to gather and eat lunch.
father had always told his son not go involve himself with the children— the weapons of the shin household, and for years, hoseok obeyed without asking any questions. up until his teenage years, the boy studied obediently, focused only on pleasing his father and filling his tiny brain with as much knowledge it could hold. but as the boy grew older and his studies came to an end, an odd feeling of loneliness befell the teenager.
during his periods of freedom, the boy would observe his mother, admire how beautiful she looked as she cooked delicious dishes in the kitchen; let his cold heart find warmth within her smiles as the young children danced around her skinny legs, all trying to get a taste of her freshly baked sweets.
hoseok struggled to understand why father would never even offer as much as a simple glance at his wife. they were but two strangers related to each other through the ring worn on their finger, sleeping in seperate rooms and living seperate lives underneath the same roof.
within his mother, the teenager discovered the same feeling of loneliness he experienced at that time, and so, for a while, hoseok seeked for comfort by the woman who could understand him. whenever he wasn’t training, he would help his mother cook and entertain the children, taking upon him the role of a big brother as he found himself less lonely as he acted out his role.
—Â
that day, as hoseok entered the dining hall to visit his mother, coal orbs came to rest upon an unfamiliar figure, seated in the corner in seclusion. a young boy; pale, thin, with soft skin and full cheeks and absolutely mesmerizing eyes. the child sat there, silently, while the other children attacked their plates as lunch was served.
shortly, the teenager disappeared into the kitchen, where he greeted his mom and cleaned his hands. he then grabbed a seperate plate, filling it up with the sandwiches and a slice of chiffon cake his mother had prepared, before he returned to the dining hall.
the teenager returned to the corner where the younger child was seated, settling down onto the cold floor before he offered the boy his plate.
“hey little soldier. aren’t you hungry? i brought you some food.”
