Here ya go
The soft tinkling of a music box flowed into the hall and into Changkyun’s office. He was leaning over his desk with his hands planted on either side. He was still smoldering over the argument between him and Emma that had taken a physical turn. The little melody reached his ears, perking them. He lifted his head to confirm if he was going crazy or not. Sure enough, he could hear the faint notes coming from down the hall.
He followed the sound to little Ha-neul’s room. Quiet voices were muttering behind the door. He recognized the smooth, warm tone of Emma’s voice that was able to bring bubbly giggles out of her daughter. Changkyun peered in from the cracked door to see Emma tucking Ha-neul into bed and softly humming to the tune of the music box.
Once she was settled with her stuffed cat, Emma nestled close to her above the covers. Mindlessly stroking her fingers through her painfully familiar silky dark hair, she began to sing. It was quiet at first, but soon the words were blooming from her lips like an angel. Chankyun always loved her singing, but it had been made clear many times that she’d rather sleep outside than sing for him. He could see the dark mark on her cheek, courtesy of him, that she tried to hide from Ha-neul. It absolutely amazed him how she could take all the drunken arguments, beatings, nights he forced her closer to him, and still be the perfect mom to her child. Not his, no. She’d made that abundantly clear. She did everything in her power to keep Ha-neul as far away from Changkyun as possible. She didn’t want her to think he was her daddy.
The verses Emma sang were in a language he didn’t understand. Her exoticness was yet another one of her traits that he loved. The porcelain skin, red hair, robust lineage, it all drove him wild. His escalating thoughts were interrupted by Ha-neul’s tiny voice joining with Emma’s to finish the song that they’d obviously sung many times prior. It hurt his heart a little to see the wordlessly special bond that he was locked out of. He wished he could be in there with them, listening to her sing with an arm around her. He wanted that. But not with Ha-neul. With his own child. THEIR child.
The final notes from the music box died down and the only sound left in the room was their soft breathing.
“Mommy?” Her voice was riddled with fatigue.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Why were you and Daddy yelling?”
“Oh, sweetie we were just a little frustrated with each other that’s all. Parents do that sometimes. And don’t call him Daddy.”
“Why?”
Emma’s eyes darted up to meet Chankyun’s gaze in the small sliver of space between the door and the wall. Her eyes held a deep and passionate hatred that burned for him and him only. “Because he’s not your real Daddy.”
