Another Chance

They stand there, caught in a moment suspended between the past and the present, the sound of the rain outside crashing against the windows like the tumult in their hearts.

Mix’s chest tightens as he stares at Earth, who looks utterly exhausted—his face drawn, eyes rimmed with shadows that speak of sleepless nights and endless worries. There’s stubble on his jaw, and his shirt is rumpled, like he hasn’t cared enough to tend to himself in days.

Mix misses him so much it aches, a visceral pain that spreads through his ribs and lodges in his throat. Every fiber of his being wants to close the distance, to touch Earth, to comfort him, to let himself fall apart in the safety of those arms.

But he can’t.

He shouldn’t.

Instead, he steels himself, forces his legs to move even as his heart screams at him to stay. He turns away, his trembling hand already reaching for the doorknob, ready to bolt before the storm inside him breaks loose.

Before he can take another step, Earth’s hand shoots out and grabs him. “Mix, please,” Earth’s voice cracks, thick with desperation, the rawness of it freezing Mix in place. “Let’s talk.”

The warmth of Earth’s touch burns against Mix’s skin, but it’s not comforting—it’s a reminder of what he’s trying to avoid. With a sharp breath, he yanks his hand away and spins around to face him. “What is there to talk about, Earth?” Mix snaps, though his voice wavers, betraying the façade of strength he’s trying so hard to hold.

They’re so close now, close enough that Mix can see how messy Earth’s hair is, the tiny flecks of brown in his weary eyes. He notices the faint quiver of Earth’s lips, the way his shoulders slump as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. It takes everything in Mix not to reach out and brush away the tears threatening to spill from Earth’s eyes.

And then it happens. He feels the tears on his own cheeks, hot and relentless, mingling with the rain as if the storm outside has seeped into him.

“Please,” Earth whispers again, softer this time, his voice a plea that tugs at Mix’s heart. Behind them, First and Khaotung retreat quietly into their bedroom, the soft click of the door signaling that they’ve left them to their privacy.

Mix swallows hard, his throat raw. “What is it?” he asks, his words clipped, but his voice betrays him, thick with emotion he can’t quite mask.

Earth’s gaze drops to the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. When he looks up again, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that Mix hasn’t seen before—an unspoken sorrow that makes Mix’s chest ache even more. “I just want us to be okay,” Earth says, his voice breaking. “Please, Mix. Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything. Just… tell me.”

Mix feels the walls he’s built around himself crack under the weight of Earth’s words. The pain he’s buried for weeks, the questions he’s been too afraid to ask, all come rushing to the surface. He wants to yell, to scream, to demand why Earth couldn’t see how much he was hurting. But Khaotung’s voice echoes in his mind, reminding him of the possibility that Earth might not know something, that's why he's having a hard time understanding.

So he takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, even as his heart feels like it’s being wrung out by invisible hands. Outside, the rain pounds harder, a relentless rhythm that matches the chaos in his chest.

“Why did you suddenly leave?” Earth asks, his voice hesitant, as if he’s afraid of the answer.

Mix lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stares at Earth, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “What else was I supposed to do, Earth? Stay and watch you and Namtan play house while I fade into the background?” His voice rises, the anger he’s been holding back finally spilling over. “Do you know what it feels like to be so close to someone and yet feel invisible? To watch them smile and laugh with someone else while you’re standing there, pretending it doesn’t tear you apart?”

Earth’s face falls, his lips parting in shock. “Mix… it wasn’t like that,” he says quickly, his voice laced with confusion and guilt. “You know it wasn’t like that.”

The room feels heavy with unspoken words, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls. Mix stands near the window, staring out at the rain as it lashes against the glass. He takes a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. He doesn’t want to do this—not like this—but the pressure in his chest is unbearable, like a dam about to burst.

His thoughts race, turbulent and messy. I can’t keep this in anymore. If I do, it’ll break me. The fear of saying something selfish or childish claws at him, but he knows he has to let it out. Otherwise, it will consume him. For once, he decides, Earth needs to see the ugly, raw, and unfiltered side of him.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Mix’s voice trembles as he finally speaks, barely above a whisper but sharp enough to cut through the quiet. His eyes, glassy with unshed tears, dart toward Earth. “Every time I see you with her—laughing, smiling, doing all those family things—I feel like maybe that's what you need. Maybe I don’t belong... like I’m just some glitch, a mistake, because you and me... we don’t make sense. Not to anyone.” His voice cracks, and he swallows hard. “It’s not normal. That’s what everyone says.”

Earth takes a step toward him, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. His hands twitch at his sides, as if he wants to reach out, to touch Mix and ground him, but he hesitates. “Mix, that’s not what’s happening,” Earth says gently, his voice low and steady, though tinged with desperation. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re not a mistake, and you’re not an option. Namtan… she’s just trying to reconnect with Edin. That’s it. It’s about him, not her. Not us.”

Mix lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as tears spill over, streaking down his cheeks and mixing with the raindrops sliding down the window. His shoulders tremble, his hands clenching tighter. “And what am I supposed to do while she’s reconnecting, Earth?” he shoots back, his voice rising with each word. “Stand there and pretend it doesn’t kill me to see you two together? Pretend I’m not terrified that one day, you’ll wake up and realize she’s what you want after all?”

Earth looks like he’s been struck. His mouth opens, but no words come out for a moment. He takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he fights to compose himself. “That’s not fair, Mix,” he finally says, his tone strained. “I’ve never given you any reason to think I’d leave you for her. You know how I feel about you.”

“Do I?” Mix counters, his voice cracking as fresh tears spill over. “Because lately, it feels like I’m the second choice. Like you’re just waiting to see if things can work with her—for Edin’s sake—and I’m here, what? A placeholder?”

“You’re not a placeholder!” Earth’s voice rises, frustration breaking through his calm facade. “You’re—” He falters, running a hand through his damp hair as he struggles to find the right words. “You’re everything to me, Mix. You’re all I want.”

The raw vulnerability in Earth’s voice causes Mix to falter for a moment, but the ache in his chest doesn’t subside. “Then why would she say that?” Mix whispers, his voice trembling as he looks at Earth through tear-blurred eyes. “Why would she beg me to give you both a chance? To let you rebuild?”

Earth’s brows knit together in confusion, his heart sinking as he processes Mix’s words. “I made it clear to Namtan that she can be Edin’s mother, but when it comes to us? There’s nothing to rebuild. I’m not giving her a chance.”

“But—”

“I should’ve said something sooner,” Earth interrupts, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve made it clear there’s nothing between me and Namtan—there never will be. But I didn’t, and that’s on me. I’m sorry, Mix. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”

Mix’s body shakes as the tears come faster now, his shoulders heaving with the effort of holding himself together. Earth’s chest tightens painfully at the sight. He steps forward again, his movements careful, deliberate, as if afraid of breaking Mix even further. This time, he dares to lift his hands, cupping Mix’s tear-streaked face. His thumbs brush gently over Mix’s cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“Mix, look at me,” Earth says softly, his voice steady despite the desperation lacing his words.

Mix hesitates, his lashes wet and heavy, but he finally lifts his gaze to meet Earth’s. The intensity in Earth’s eyes is almost too much, a storm of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I don’t want her,” Earth says firmly, his voice unwavering. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. You’re the one who’s been there for me, for Edin. You’re the one I think about every moment of the day. Not her. Not anyone else. You.”

Mix stares at him, his emotions a tangled mess inside him. Love, fear, pain—they’re so tightly wound together he can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. His voice is barely a whisper as he asks, “How do I know this won’t hurt me again?”

Earth’s hands falter, dropping to his sides as he struggles to answer. The truth is, he doesn’t know. He can’t promise that it won’t hurt, that life won’t throw more obstacles in their path.

The rain pounds against the windows, filling the silence with its relentless rhythm. Mix breathes deeply, his chest rising and falling as he fights to steady himself. After a moment, he closes his eyes, turning away from Earth and walking toward the sofa. Earth watches him, frozen in place, his heart pounding in his chest.

Mix grabs his jacket, his movements slow, deliberate. When he turns back to face Earth, his expression is softer but no less pained. He steps closer, lifting a hand to caress Earth’s cheek. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it makes Earth crumble, his own tears finally spilling over.

“I don’t want anyone else but you, too,” Mix says, his voice breaking. “But I can’t live like this. Take this time, Earth. Use it to understand your heart and make your choice.”

Earth’s ears ring, his heart thundering in his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, to stop Mix, but no words come out. Before he can process what’s happening, Mix turns and walks out the door, leaving Earth standing in the middle of the room, stunned and hollow.

It’s only when the door from the bedroom opens and First and Khaotung appears, that Earth snaps out of his daze. Panic floods his veins as he rushes to the door, stepping out into the pouring rain. “Mix!” he calls out, his voice cracking. “Mix, wait!”

The street feels eerily still despite the relentless downpour, each raindrop crashing against Earth's skin. Earth’s voice is hoarse from shouting, his throat raw as he calls Mix’s name again, his desperation swallowed by the storm. He takes a shaky step forward, his drenched clothes clinging to his trembling frame, as his eyes dart frantically through the rain-blurred darkness.

There’s no sign of Mix. Only the faint flicker of streetlights and the echo of his own breathing.

Earth feels his knees give way, sinking onto the cold, wet ground. The world around him fades, leaving only the deafening roar of his pounding heart and the bitter sting of tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. His hands grip his soaked jeans, trembling as he whispers, “Mix… please…” over and over, as if sheer willpower could summon him back.

The ache in his chest grows unbearable, a gnawing, hollow pain he can’t escape. The thought of Mix walking away, lost in his own heartbreak, pierces Earth’s soul in a way he can’t describe. He’s never felt so powerless.

From behind, the soft sound of footsteps breaks through the storm’s chaos. Earth doesn’t react at first, his head bowed and his body slumped as the rain continues to pour. Then, a voice calls out—steady yet filled with worry.

“Earth, please, come inside.”

He lifts his head slowly, blinking against the rain to see First standing in the doorway of the building. The umbrella in First’s hand tilts slightly as he steps forward, his expression a mix of concern and sadness. “You’ll get sick out here,” First adds, his voice louder this time, though still gentle.

Earth’s lips part, but no words come. He looks back down the street, his eyes pleading with the empty road as if Mix might somehow appear. But the street remains silent, unyielding, and empty.

“Earth.” First’s tone softens further, almost coaxing now. “Please.”

Earth hesitates, his body trembling as his mind wars with itself. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave this spot. It feels wrong to go back inside, wrong to retreat without Mix by his side.

But he knows. Deep down, he knows. Standing here won’t bring Mix back.

Finally, Earth forces himself to his feet. His movements are slow, his legs heavy as if weighed down by the gravity of the moment. The rain continues to soak him, plastering his hair to his forehead and chilling him to the bone. He takes one last look at the street, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, clinging to the desperate hope that Mix might still be there, waiting, just out of sight.

But there’s nothing.

Defeated, Earth turns and trudges toward First. His head hangs low, and his breath comes in uneven gasps, a mixture of exhaustion and grief. First steps forward to meet him, holding the umbrella over them both. The small gesture is almost unbearably kind, and Earth feels something inside him crack further.

As they step inside, Earth barely registers the warmth of the building compared to the chill of the storm outside. He stops just past the doorway, his soaked shoes leaving puddles on the floor as he stands there, unmoving, lost in thought.

First places a gentle hand on Earth’s shoulder. “He’ll come back,” he says quietly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Just give him time.”

Earth doesn’t respond. He can’t. The words feel too far away, too disconnected from the aching reality pressing down on his chest.

Mix is gone. And Earth doesn’t know if he’ll ever find his way back.

The rain continues to hammer relentlessly against the windows of First and Khaotung’s small apartment, the sound filling the heavy silence that wraps around Earth like a suffocating blanket. He sits stiffly on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, his hair dripping water onto the floor. First’s shirt clings awkwardly to his frame, and the towel Khaotung handed him moments ago lies forgotten on the cushion beside him.

The stillness breaks as Earth’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. He blinks, slow and lethargic, before picking it up. A message lights up the screen, and he reads it with trembling fingers:

Edin’s looking for you. We couldn’t wait, so I dropped him off at the house.

Namtan’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. His grip on the phone tightens, and his jaw clenches as frustration courses through him. He grits his teeth, swiping the screen closed. Without a word, he grabs his keys from the table and bolts toward the door.

“Earth, wait!” First calls, stepping out of the kitchen, his voice thick with concern. “Where are you going? It’s pouring outside!”

“Earth, at least let us come with you!” Khaotung adds, but Earth doesn’t even glance back.

“I have to go,” he mutters, his voice hollow as he swings the door open and disappears into the storm.

The drive is torturous. Rain lashes against the windshield, blurring his vision as the wipers struggle to keep up. Earth grips the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. He tries to steady his breathing, tries to calm the storm raging inside him, but it’s no use. Earth doesn’t feel like he has time to sort himself out. Not when everything feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

When he finally pulls up to the house, the sight of warm lights glowing through the windows stirs something deep within him—a mix of relief and anger. He parks haphazardly, throwing the door open without even bothering to grab an umbrella in his car.

The rain drenches him instantly, cold and unrelenting, but he barely feels it as he rushes to the front door. His heart is pounding, his emotions a tangled mess as he swings the door open.

“Daddy!” Edin’s small voice cuts through the storm in Earth’s chest, and before he can even process it, his son is running into his arms. Earth crouches down, catching him in a tight embrace, the warmth of his child grounding him for a brief, fleeting moment.

“You’re home,” Edin murmurs, his little hands clutching at Earth’s soaked shirt.

Earth presses a kiss to Edin’s head, his voice soft but strained. “I’m here, bud. Did you have fun today?”

Edin nods but then pulls back slightly, his small face scrunching up in concern. “Why are you wet, Daddy? And why are your eyes puffy?”

Earth forces a smile, though it feels like it might shatter at any moment. “Daddy’s just tired, bud,” he says gently, handing Edin his phone and keys. “Can you do me a favor? Go put these in our bedroom, okay? And stay there for a little while. I need to talk to your mama.”

Edin hesitates, his gaze flicking between his father’s weary face and the kitchen where Namtan is moving about. Finally, he nods, offering a small smile before disappearing down the hallway. Earth straightens just as Namtan steps into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She sets a steaming bowl on the dining table, her eyes widening slightly when she takes in Earth’s disheveled state.

“I made something quick,” she says, her tone light, as though trying to diffuse the tension. “Did you eat yet?”

Earth doesn’t respond. His eyes bore into her, his jaw set tightly. When she picks up a towel and reaches for his dripping hair, he sidesteps her touch, taking the towel from her hand and tossing it onto a chair.

“Namtan, we need to talk,” he says, his voice low but firm.

She blinks, clearly taken aback, but quickly recovers, offering a soft smile. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

Earth doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Did you tell Mix we’re rebuilding?”

"Oh, that…" Namtan blinks, her eyes wide with surprise as she inhales sharply, clearly taken aback by the unexpected question. She shifts uncomfortably, her voice faltering. “I did. I'm rebuilding... with Edin.”

“No.” Earth’s voice is steady but sharp, cutting through her words. He crosses his arms, his expression hardening as he clarifies, “You said something else—about us. Rebuilding. You and I.”

“I…” Namtan stammers, her eyes darting away for a moment before meeting his again. “I just… I was only making the conversation light. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously.”

“Seriously, Namtan?” Earth exhales heavily, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re not taking responsibility for this? You know exactly how much weight your words carry. You know how much it affects him.”

Namtan straightens her posture, her tone shifting defensively. “I’m actually doing you a favor, you know?” she says, her voice clipped. “Now you see how shallow this trust he has in you. Is that the kind of love you’re talking about, Earth?”

Earth’s jaw tightens, his gaze piercing as he shakes his head. “You don’t get it. You have no idea what he’s been through. You don’t know the pain he had to carry. You have no right to say that.”

Namtan lets out a scoff, her eyes narrowing as she takes a step closer. “Can’t you see?” she says, her voice filled with a strange mix of exasperation and desperation. “Isn’t this enough of a sign for you? Maybe this—us—is what it’s supposed to be, Earth. Maybe it’s what you’re meant to come back to.”

“What are you even talking about, Namtan?” Earth’s voice rises slightly, his patience thinning. “Haven’t we already been through this? Didn’t we agree that whatever we have left is only for Edin? That’s it. That’s all.”

Namtan’s face softens for a brief moment, then crumbles as tears threaten to spill. She clasps her hands tightly together as if trying to steady herself. “Earth…” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Why can’t you give us a chance? Hmm? Just give us a try—one more try?”

Earth’s laugh is bitter, filled with disbelief. “A chance?” he repeats, shaking his head. His voice grows heavier with every word, the weight of his emotions finally surfacing. “Namtan, I waited for you. God knows how long I waited—for you to come back to me, to Edin. Do you know how many nights I stayed up, praying you’d walk through that door, that you’d be the person I thought you could be?”

Namtan tries to interject, but Earth’s words barrel forward, unstoppable. “You had chances—countless chances,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “And you used every single one of them. You threw them away like they meant nothing. And now?” He gestures toward himself, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breaths. “Now I’ve healed. I’ve finally started to figure out what it means to live a life I deserve. To know a love I thought I’d only find in you—but I was wrong. I can find it somewhere else. With someone else. And it’s fuller. It’s real.”

“But I’m here, Earth,” she says, gesturing to herself. “I’m here now, even if I wasn’t perfect. Can’t you see? This, us, this is the right thing. It’s the way it’s supposed to be. We’re Edin’s parents. We’re a family.”

Earth takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he tries to control the storm of emotions bubbling inside him. “A family?” he repeats, his voice tinged with bitterness. “A family isn’t just some convenient label, Namtan. It’s about love, trust, respect—things you’ve never cared to give until now.”

Namtan flinches but doesn’t back down. She steps closer, close enough that Earth can see the tremble in her lower lip. “I’m trying, Earth,” she pleads, her tone softer now but no less insistent. “For you, for Edin... I’m trying to be what you need. What we need. Isn’t that worth something?”

Earth shakes his head. "Namtan, what Edin and I needed was for you to be there. When he cried for his mama, when he asked me why you didn’t come home, when he made drawings with three people in them and then started leaving you out because he thought you didn’t want us anymore—I was the one picking up the pieces.”

Namtan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, but she presses on, her voice growing more desperate. “I made mistakes, Earth, but people change! I’m here now. Isn’t that enough? Why are you clinging to some... fantasy with someone else when everything you’ve ever needed is right here in front of you?”

Earth’s voice rises, his frustration spilling over. “You think showing up now, whenever it suits you, is enough? You think I should just forget the years you left me hanging, the nights I begged for answers you never gave? You don’t get to rewrite the past just because it’s convenient now!”

Namtan grabs his arm, her grip firm but trembling. “You’re being stubborn,” she insists, her voice cracking. “Why can’t you see that we’re meant to be? No one else can love you like I do. No one else understands you like I do.”

Earth pulls his arm free, his expression hardening as he looks her directly in the eyes. “Love?” he snaps, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You call this love? What you have isn’t love, Namtan. It’s selfish. It’s controlling. It’s painful.”

Namtan shakes her head rapidly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You don’t mean that,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You’re just angry. I know you still love me, Earth. Deep down, I know you do.”

Earth lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his damp hair. His anger simmers just below the surface, but there’s exhaustion in his voice now. “I loved you once, Namtan,” he admits, his words cutting through the air like a knife. “But that love... it broke me. It left me questioning my worth, wondering if I’d ever be enough for you. And now, I’ve found someone who sees me—really sees me—for who I am, not who they want me to be. And you can’t stand it, can you?”

Namtan looks away, her shoulders shaking as she cries silently. But Earth doesn’t falter.

“It's too much, Namtan,” he says, his voice firm but tinged with sadness. “Your love isn’t the kind of love I want. It’s suffocating. It’s toxic. And I won’t let it poison Edin’s life any more than it already has.”

The room falls silent except for the sound of Namtan’s quiet sobs and the rain pounding against the windows. Earth takes a step back, his heart heavy but resolute. "Namtan." Earth says, his voice steady yet heavy with the weight of his words. "I will be here for you as a friend, and I will respect you because you are the mother of my child. Please respect my decisions too, and the people around me."

Namtan inhales deeply, her lips trembling as she tries to steady herself. Her chest rises and falls, the pain and rejection clear in her eyes. Slowly, she stands, smoothing the wrinkles of her skirt as if that small act could help her regain composure. She wipes her damp cheeks with the back of her hand, letting her fingers linger for a moment as if trying to erase all traces of vulnerability. She looks at Earth one last time, her gaze lingering, searching for something—perhaps hope or regret—but finding none.

"I should go," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Earth looks up at her, his exhaustion visible in his posture, his shoulders slumped as though carrying an invisible weight. "Do you need me to drive you?" he offers, his tone soft but distant.

"No," Namtan murmurs as she clutches her bag tightly. "I can drive perfectly well."

"But you're not—" Earth starts, concern flickering across his features.

"I am fine," she cuts him off, her voice clipped, her eyes avoiding his as she steps toward the door.

Without another word, Namtan walks out, the soft click of the door echoing in the silence that follows. Earth stands frozen for a moment before sinking onto the sofa. The weariness he’s been holding at bay crashes over him like a tidal wave. His head falls into his hands as everything—every word, every emotion—comes rushing back in full force. He feels the tears welling up, unstoppable now.

What the hell is happening?

He doesn't notice the soft patter of small footsteps approaching him until he feels a gentle touch on his hair, the fingers tentative but comforting.

"Edin," Earth says, startled, his voice breaking as he quickly tries to hide his face. He wipes at his tears hastily, but they betray him, spilling down his cheeks faster than he can manage. "I'm—"

"It's okay, Daddy," Edin whispers, his voice small but filled with an understanding that feels far beyond his years. He pats his father's head with the sincerity only a child can offer. "You can cry."

Earth looks up at his son, his composure crumbling completely. The walls he’s built, the strength he’s tried to maintain, shatter in an instant. He pulls Edin into a tight hug, clutching him as if he’s the only anchor keeping him grounded. The weight of his emotions overtakes him, and he cries openly, his body shaking with each sob.

Edin hugs him back, his small arms wrapping as tightly as they can around his father, his presence steady and grounding. For a moment, there’s only the sound of Earth’s sobs and Edin’s soft murmurs of comfort.

"Why is Daddy crying?" Edin asks after a while, his voice curious but not judgmental. "Did Daddy get hurt?"

Earth shakes his head, trying to compose himself, but the words come out broken. "Just... I don’t know what to do, bud. I feel like I’m not doing enough."

Edin pulls back slightly, his wide eyes studying his father’s face. Without a word, he slips out of Earth’s embrace and disappears down the hall. Confused, Earth watches him go, wondering if he said something wrong.

Moments later, Edin reappears, clutching something in his small hands. He marches back to his father, determination etched into his young face. Standing in front of Earth, he reaches up and sticks something onto his damp shirt.

Earth looks down, his confusion turning to surprise. A bright, shiny star sticker now rests on his chest. He remembers Mix giving these stickers to his pupils, everytime they achieve something or does a great job, always saying the stars stickers represented progress.

Earth blinks down at it, his vision blurring again as tears threaten to fall.

Edin smiles up at him, his innocence shining through. "You’re doing a great job, Daddy. I want you to know that. Daddy always does great."

Earth’s lips tremble as he cups the sticker on his chest, the simple gesture hitting him harder than anything else could. Tears fall again, but this time they’re softer, accompanied by a weak chuckle as he looks at his son. "Thank you, bud," he says, his voice cracking.

"No, it’s Edin who wants to say thank you to Daddy," Edin replies, his tone firm and matter-of-fact. "Daddy always thinks of Edin first. Daddy makes sure Edin’s milk is sweet but forgets to put sugar in his coffee. Daddy eats less powpows because he knows how much Edin loves them. Daddy works hard for Edin. Daddy does everything for Edin. Daddy is great."

Earth stares at his son, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. His chest tightens as fresh tears spill, and he reaches out to pull Edin into another hug.

"Edin only wants Daddy to be happy," Edin whispers against his father’s shoulder. "And Edin will give Daddy his happiness."

Earth pulls back slightly, looking into his son’s earnest eyes. He smiles, his heart aching and full at the same time. "You’re Daddy’s happiness, bud."

"That’s true," Edin says with a bright grin. "But you got one more happiness, now. I know Daddy loves Teacher Mix, Edin loves Teacher Mix too. We are family. It doesn't matter what other people say. Daddy, Teacher Mix, and Edin together is happiness."

Earth smiles at his son and before he can reply, there’s a soft knock at the door. His brows knit together in confusion, but Edin’s grin only widens. The boy scurries to the door, his small feet padding quickly across the floor.

Moments later, Edin returns, holding someone’s hand. Earth’s breath catches in his throat as his eyes land on Mix. His hair is damp, his eyes red and swollen.

Earth stands slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Mix?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mix lets go of Edin’s hand and walks toward Earth, his movements hesitant but deliberate. Earth meets him halfway, his emotions bubbling over as he pulls Mix into a tight hug. The rain-soaked fabric of their shirts clings together, but neither of them seems to care.

Earth buries his face in Mix’s shoulder, his tears flowing freely again. "I’m sorry," he chokes out. "I’m sorry."

Mix wraps his arms around Earth, holding him just as tightly. He rubs soothing circles on Earth’s back, his voice soft but firm. "Shh... stop crying. I’m here."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Mix’s embrace and Edin’s beaming smile, Earth feels complete.

:let me know how's this one! 🖤