Page 118 of The Way Back Home

“I said sit still.”

I grit my teeth and let him. He rubs ointment along my jaw where it’s already starting to swell and I flinch, sucking air through my teeth.

“Ow.”

“Stop moving.”

He puts the kit away, closes the lid, sets it aside. Then he just looks at me. And I watch his face go through a terrible series of changes, his eyes dropping to my mouth, to the bruise forming on my jaw. When they come back up they’re filled with a self-hatred so naked it makes my chest hurt. He closes his eyes. His shoulders draw in.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I tell him. “You’ve hit me before. It’s not like we didn’t trade a fair amount of blows both ways over the years.”

Ryowoon’s mouth twists and he scoffs bitterly. “You know damn well there’s a difference between getting hit in a fair fight, Seyeon.”

A heavy silence follows. I reach out and grip him by the jaw, turning his face to mine. His skin is still damp, his pulse jumping beneath my fingertips.

“It’s alright, Ryowoon. I know you didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I startled you awake.”

He closes his eyes again. This time he leans into my palm, his own hand coming up to wrap around my wrist, holding it there, his thumb pressing against the heel of my hand.

I wait.

“Were you having a nightmare?” I ask quietly.

He nods once, small. Looks away toward the window where the sky is still black, not even a hint of dawn.

He lets out a long breath through his nose, his jaw working beneath my fingers. “This is why I knew this would be a bad idea. What I was afraid of.” He turns back to look at me, his voice flat. “You shouldn’t stay here anymore, Seyeon.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone now.”

His eyes narrow, a flash of stubborn anger rising to the surface. “This is what I do. I just end up hurting you.”

“It was an accident, Ryowoon.”

“It’s instinct.” He pulls my hand away from his face, but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His grip is too tight, his fingers pressing into my pulse point. “All I have inside me is violence. Only know how to hurt people.”

I let out a sound of disbelief and frustration and a feeling like grief tangled up together. “You know that’s not true. You were panicking. You weren’t thinking straight. You never would’ve done that with a clear head.”

His eyes find mine, bright again, glassy, the redness around them making the brown look darker. His voice drops quietly and my stomach sinks.

“It’s in my blood, Seyeon. You know that better than anyone.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “The only thing I inherited is anger and violence. That’s why I told you not to do this. I don’t have anything for you but the same fucked up legacy of pain that’s been passed down over and over.” His hands shake in his lap, and he looks down at them like they belong to someone else. “Even if I don’t want to, I’m going to hurt you eventually.”

“You’re not your father, Ryowoon.”

His gaze snaps to me. His eyes are too bright, tears threatening again, his face bare of every defense. “What’s the difference?” he says thickly. “I have all the same habits. Same blood and bones and worthlessness.” He lifts his hands, stares at his scarred knuckles, the crooked set of the damaged wrist. “I have nothing to offer you. I can’t give you the things you deserve. Don’t know how to show love or affection or care for anyone. How can I when I don’t even know what that looks like?”

I grab his chin. Hard. Yank his face toward mine until we’re inches apart and he can’t look anywhere but at me.

“I didn’t ask you for any of that.”

His lips part, but I don’t let him speak.

“All I want, all I ever wanted, was for you to be here with me.” I sound rough, the words struggling against the tightness in my throat. “I know you. Better than anyone. Probably better than you know yourself. So you can trust me when I say you are nothing, nothing like that man, Ryowoon.”

His jaw clenches under my grip, the muscle jumping, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

“You don’t have to worry about turning into him. It’s not possible. Because I’m going to be right here to remind you when you forget that it’s not who you are.” I loosen my hold on his jaw, let my thumb brush along the edge of the scar at the corner of his mouth. “So stop running from me. That’s all I ask. All those other things, we can figure it out together. I can teach you.” My voice falters. “As long as you stay.”

Ryowoon’s face crumples. Not the way it did before, like the last wall giving way. His shoulders sag, the tension draining out of him in a long exhale, and he leans forward. His forehead meets the crook of my neck, his arms sliding around me, and I pull him in close, pressing my hand to the back of his head, my other arm locked across his back.