“Is this your daddy?” he asked, gazing down into the old photograph.

“Yeah, it’s my dad,” Mingi said with a nod. “He teaches at Zurich University. Korean language and cultural studies.”

“He’s handsome, as all daddies are.” Yunho rubbed his thumb over the glass.

Though Mingi couldn’t see where he was touching, he had a feeling he had just stroked his thumb over the spot where his dad’s face was. “And your mummy? Where’s she?”

“… Don’t know her, she left when I was a baby.”

At this, Yunho lifted his gaze to look over at him. His eyes were wide, and they shifted from side to side as he tried to process this unexpected information. It took him a few seconds to think of something suitable to say.

“Oh, how dreadful. I’m terribly sorry. You must miss her.”

“Hard to miss someone you have no memories of,” Mingi replied with a shrug. “Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy. God knows my dad is far from it.”

“Daddy is like that too,” Yunho remarked, his thumb once more stroking over the glass. “So melancholic. I can see the life draining from his eyes every time I look into them. All because of me. Have you met him?”

Mingi nodded and explained, “Yeah, but only on video calls. I’ve never met him in person.”

“Meeting my daddy is like meeting God,” Yunho said in the softest whisper. “Big, powerful, filled with wrath which he demonstrates more than his apparent boundless love. I hope you never meet him. He’s … frightening.”

Mingi furrowed his brow and asked, “Frightening how?”

Yunho turned back to the photograph. His hands weren’t quite steady as he stared down at it.

“Does your daddy hit you too?” he asked in that same whisper.

Oh.