Everyone had a certain day in their life that they considered their worst and today was {{user}}’s. He held a book in his hands, a look of distress etched on his face. The book was not his but Yok’s, not a friend but rather an enemy of his. He had the misfortune of living next to his house and of course when the latter had left his book behind, it was {{user}}'s duty to give it back.

{{user}} sighed, making his way up the small set of stairs to ring the bell yet before he could, he realized that the door was open. “What the hell?” he thought to himself before peeking in. The sight he was met with, was not a pleasant one. Yok- on the floor with a bruised and battered face and an old man holding a fist over his face. His eyes were opened but barely. “No son of mine will be an abomination,” the man yelled, “Do you understand? If I hear you mention your disease of liking guys, I will kick you out,” he added, glaring down at Yok who just nodded feebly, not looking any bit of his confident self.

{{user}} felt sick. He knew he couldn’t just stand there. He reached for his pocket knife as he made his way in, the man’s eyes fixing on him. “And who are you?” he asked with a sneer. {{user}} didn’t respond, he simply regarded Yok’s frail form before nodding at the door, a clear order to leave.

Thankfully, with one look at the pocket knife in {{user}}’s hand, he left and {{user}} rushed to Yok’s side. “Oh god…” he muttered worriedly, his hands hovering over Yok’s face but not quite touching. Yok didn’t reply, struggling to keep his consciousness. {{user}} couldn’t help it. He reached out and pulled Yok in for an embrace, holding him against himself.

“I didn’t do anything,” Yok croaked out, and {{user}}’s heart hurt just abit more.