19

                                    

                                          
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Woken
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June 9
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"Yoongi?" a soft knock came from the blonde-haired male's door. "Can I please come in?"
                          
Yoongi looked up from his sheet music upon hearing his mother's voice. She hasn't spoke in a voice this soft in a long time. Yoongi missed it, remembers that this is the voice that has told him nighttime stories late at night when she got home from work, the voice that has carefully woven and cemented into his memories of learning the piano.
                          
"Yes," Yoongi answered, setting his papers on the wooden desk in a neat stack. 
                          
The doorknob twisted before being creaked open. A pair of fatigue eyes are what Yoongi is focusing on, but that doesn't stop him from noticing the sunken cheeks and colorless, thin lips. Yoongi frowned, his heart chipping from the sight of his weak and slightly sick mother. 
                          
"I understand you don't want to move to the States," she said. "And-"
                          
"You can sit down," Yoongi interrupted, nodding towards the stool at the corner of his bed. 
                          
His mother gave a tight, small nod and slowly made her way to sit on the wooden stool. 
                          
"I won't make you leave everything you have here to come to the States," his mother said. 
                          
Yoongi kept his face straight even though his heart is leaping with joy. He anticipates a but. 
                          
"But you need to get a job and take good care of yourself. I know Hoseok will take you in, and I know what's going on between you two."
                          
"I can take care of myself, mom, and I don't need another sex ed talk."
                          
His mother pressed her lips in a small smile. "You've grown up."
                          
"According to other people, I grew up too early."
                          
His mother sighed in distress. "It's my fault."
                          
"You shouldn't say that. You and dad were trying your best to financially support the family, and it's just my responsibility as your child to help you where I am able to help."
                          
"I just wish I could've been there for you more and spend more time with you. I feel like I don't even know my own son now." She choked up on a soft chuckle. "I'm a bad mother, aren't I?"
                          
It took exactly two strides for Yoongi to move where his mother was sitting and hug her tightly to his chest as she sniffled back some tears. 
                          
"You shouldn't blame yourself for something the world did," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Others might be more fortunate than us, but there are also people who aren't as fortunate as us. You tried your very best, mom, it's my fault for being selfish and thinking about my life here when we, as a family, could have such a better life in the States. I just...can't let go of everything I have here."
                          
"I shouldn't have forced you and yelled at you that day. I shouldn't have been mad at you. I haven't thought of your situation, and it was wrong of me to do so."
                          
Yoongi pulled away from the hug to kneel down in front of his mother. He smiles, holding his mother's hand in his. "Everything will be okay. You've worked way too much to not deserve your share in happiness."
                          
"You're my only happiness I can ask for, petal."
                          
Yoongi snorted to hide a small smile at the childish nickname. "What else did you come in for?"
                          
"Hoseok is a good man."
                          
"Of course he is," Yoongi scoffed. "He's my boyfriend, hos can he not be a good man."