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And for the first time after arriving in this world, he cried.
Suho had never needed to learn how to cry quietly. Better to just not cry at all, win win.
Luckily, the summons slept deeply, and the baron and baroness’ room was the floor above.
By the time he ran out of tears, he was entirely still, tears and snot uncomfortably smeared across his face, hands, and pillow. But he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it, let alone feel anything.
With the unchanging moonlight filtering through the curtains, he couldn’t tell how long he laid there, only unnecessary, unconscious sniffles occasionally breaking the silence.
Distantly, he barely registered the soft knocking at his door. If he had the wherewithal to process it, he might think he’d imagined it.
As it was, it felt like an out of body experience when the door cracked open and the baroness’ candlelit face peeked through. That was the shock Lloyd needed to bolt up and scramble to make himself at least a little more presentable.
“My lady,” his voice cracked at the end, which he covered up with hoarse coughs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the baroness hesitate in the doorway before she strided over to his spot on the bed.
Rather than make eye contact, Lloyd watched her place a tray on the nightstand and examined its contents: a slim candlestick balanced delicately, two steaming cups of tea with a sweet, floral smell wafting from them-
The baroness knelt in front of him and gently took his hands in hers. Although Lloyd barely stopped himself from flinching, it would be too hopeful to think she didn’t realize how tense he was.
“Oh Lloyd,” she whispered, “won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Her words sat in the air, loud and heavy, more suffocating than the most heartwrenching sobs ripped from his ribcage earlier.
Maybe it was the tears shining in the baroness’ eyes.
Maybe it was the lingering emptiness, knowing that paying off the Frontera’s debt did not erase the debt in his past life, let alone his theft of this body, this chance, this life.
More than anything, it was the reason he kept the baroness at arm’s length: she reminded him so much of his own mom.
“I,” he cleared his throat and licked his dry lips. His eyes flicked around the room uselessly, seeing nothing. Was he really going to do this now? His previous plans said no, but he couldn’t recall any of the logic at the moment.
He slowly extracted his hands from her grasp. She allowed it, although she kept hands on his knees.
Deep breath in, then out. With a calmness he didn’t entirely feel, he told her, “I’m not Lloyd.”
Somehow, the words didn’t feel real. Time seemed to stop as he watched the baroness’ face cloud with confusion. As if possessed, his traitorous mouth continued, “I’m not your son. I guess you could say I’ve been acting like a different person because I am a different person.” Her hands slid off his knees. He refused to miss their warmth. He didn’t have the right. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how or why it happened. I’m sorry I hid it from you, I just-”
The baroness wiped a tear from his cheek. Huh, he was crying again. Who knew.
He sucked in a breath and held it as he wiped at his face.
“Then, if you’d like, will you tell me your name?”
What was one more truth at this point? It was just another drop in the bucket. In a voice so quiet even he had to strain to hear it, he told her. Past the roaring in his head, he could hear her breath hitch as the baroness started to cry.
Ah right. One of the reasons why he wasn’t going to tell the couple his true identity on this day was to not ruin the celebratory mood of having cleared the debt.
Frantic hands pried his head out from where it was buried in his arm. Suho had his eyes shut, but he couldn’t do the same for his ears.
“My baby,” even choked out, the words hit Suho like a sack of concrete mix. “Suho-yah, is it really you?”
Slowly, as if she would disappear and the whole thing was some crazy lucid dream, Suho looked at the baroness again. In Korean, he responded, “Mom?” Somehow, in the next moment, he was on the ground, arms clutched tight around him, his hands squished in the middle but restless, desperate to see if any of this were real.
“Suho-yah, I’m so sorry, again we- you-” Suho shook his head.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” Seeing her smile at him and laugh helplessly, Suho wondered how he couldn’t have realized earlier why he found so many of the baroness’ mannerisms painfully familiar.
“Oh, sweetie, your dad and I have so much to tell you.”
Suho hadn’t been on a rollercoaster since he was a child, but he swore it didn’t feel the same as this at all.
“Dad, too?” Suho thought about that dream he had, the words he couldn’t tell his dad.
His mom (his mom?!) nodded, and then he was the one hugging her (his mom!) close.