[ His brows furrowed and a muscle worked in his jaw. His thumb continued to trace back and forth across that scar, as if he could erase the evidence of such cruelty with his touch alone. ]
That was stupid and pointlessly cruel. If the cut had been any deeper, you could have lost the use of that hand entirely...
[ But since when did a father need a reason to hurt his son? Joon-gi (Yeonsu) remembered the pain of every split lip, every backhanded blow across his skull; the bruises turning black and blue down the length of his back. His father had been careful to make sure the wounds were in places no one would see. He didn't want anyone asking awkward questions.
Of course, all of that stopped once Yeonsu had his face surgically altered—his humanity stripped away and exchanged for the visage of a god. He remembered how, for the first time ever, his father kissed his brow, almost worshipfully, while Yeonsu (soon to be Han Joon-gi) stared at him helplessly through the veil of gauze covering his face, and wept with impotent rage. Because he was too weak to raise a hand against the man who had hurt him over and over and over again... ]
You handled that with far more grace than I would have done, that's for sure. If I had been in your place, I would have decked the old man, and he would have deserved it.
[ Han Joon-gi would never have suffered such a blatant display of disrespect. He'd seen first hand how his predecessor dealt with those who disrespected him... and it wasn't pretty.
But Joon-gi pushed that thought aside as he raised Zhao's hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss against his knuckles, as if such a gesture could somehow erase the memory of the pain inflicted so long ago.
They sat there together in silence for many long moments while Joon-gi continued to hold Zhao's hand. ]
I think... I'd like it if you could make orange chicken for dinner tomorrow. That is, if it's not too much trouble... [ He lifted his gaze, and there was something wistful in his expression. ] I've tried it at so many different restaurants, but none of them came close to how that old woman made it. But I bet you could do it if you put your mind to it.
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That was stupid and pointlessly cruel. If the cut had been any deeper, you could have lost the use of that hand entirely...
[ But since when did a father need a reason to hurt his son? Joon-gi (Yeonsu) remembered the pain of every split lip, every backhanded blow across his skull; the bruises turning black and blue down the length of his back. His father had been careful to make sure the wounds were in places no one would see. He didn't want anyone asking awkward questions.
Of course, all of that stopped once Yeonsu had his face surgically altered—his humanity stripped away and exchanged for the visage of a god. He remembered how, for the first time ever, his father kissed his brow, almost worshipfully, while Yeonsu (soon to be Han Joon-gi) stared at him helplessly through the veil of gauze covering his face, and wept with impotent rage. Because he was too weak to raise a hand against the man who had hurt him over and over and over again... ]
You handled that with far more grace than I would have done, that's for sure. If I had been in your place, I would have decked the old man, and he would have deserved it.
[ Han Joon-gi would never have suffered such a blatant display of disrespect. He'd seen first hand how his predecessor dealt with those who disrespected him... and it wasn't pretty.
But Joon-gi pushed that thought aside as he raised Zhao's hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss against his knuckles, as if such a gesture could somehow erase the memory of the pain inflicted so long ago.
They sat there together in silence for many long moments while Joon-gi continued to hold Zhao's hand. ]
I think... I'd like it if you could make orange chicken for dinner tomorrow. That is, if it's not too much trouble... [ He lifted his gaze, and there was something wistful in his expression. ] I've tried it at so many different restaurants, but none of them came close to how that old woman made it. But I bet you could do it if you put your mind to it.