There was the usual beeping of some distant heart-machine and the permeating miasma of antibacterial solution that typified a visit to the hospital, but this time I wasn’t just visiting. Lying flat on my stomach, I suddenly felt all my senses go into overdrive at trying to figure out where I was and what I was doing – trying to recollect the last moments of my subconscious memory though it was too painful to remember.

I breathed deep antiseptic and fresh linen. Tasted ash and the grunge of waking up groggy and exhausted. Heard the rustling of fabric and the bustle of people far away, muffled by wall and space. I could feel the cotton hospital dress press with sweat against my skin and all of a sudden, felt how tight the tie-up collar was around my neck – how tight I was wrapped to cover the wound. But the weirdest sensation of all was of fingers brushing up and down the bandaged plains of my back; soft caresses that traced away the lines of hurt and gore which had imprinted not only physically into my skin, but in my mind as well.

My head was turned to facing the window and I fluttered my eyes open, the underlying warm buzz of orange manifesting into a bright piercing halo of white. I groaned softly in reflex and I felt the fingers freeze, pull slightly away and then press firmer now in contact. “Aemi,” he murmured and there was a sweet reassurance in hearing my name spoken with such affection and care as the first thing I wake up to hearing.

I stretched a little and felt the burning ache run along my back and slowly, very slowly, sat up and turned to face him. His hands wavered awkwardly around me as if unsure what to do, where they should be placed. My hair splayed down in a mess and I to rearrange the hospital gown so that I end up exposing anything as I manoeuvred across – all I had on was my original pair of underwear and the blue cotton gown that covered up the front of my body and tied up at the back. I was hesitant to lean against the pillows and tried to sit without wincing. But it wasn’t the injury that was painful but the expression on Myungsoo’s face.

“Hi,” he smiled sadly, brushing hair away from my face as I stared back at him tiredly. He opened his mouth to continue but then stopped himself, biting on his lip. There was a pause before he started talking again.

“I’m so sorry. This… This was never supposed to happen. I should have protected yo-” His hand was shaking so I raised my own to hold his, cupping the cold fingers in mine and cutting him off from his spiel.

“Don’t.” I didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already was – probably already beating himself up over it and throwing himself at the walls. It happened once when we got into a fight about not seeing each other and being too busy for our own good which nearly caused separation but the way he always blamed things on himself set things up straight. Never though, had things escalated to this level where I had to be taken to hospital. There had always been a very likely and realistic possibility that I was going to end up in this situation but never had it actually occurred. This time really sent alarm bells ringing and somewhere, in a deep dark alcove of my heart, I had already decided that this wasn’t healthy for either side. However, I didn’t dare tell him. Not now.

“If you’re really sorry, got get me some ice-cream.” I bantered light-heartedly. Then to remind him what flavour I wanted, I said ‘vanilla’ just as he did too with a soft smile on his face.

“I know, I know. Because you just like it plain.”

He stood up and reached over, pulling me to his chest to kiss my forehead and as he broke away, murmured gently. “I’ll call the nurse over while I’m gone. Alright?”

I nodded in response and he pressed a button to the side of my bed. He then played with my fingers for a while, then my hair in waiting for the nurse to arrive after a few minutes. “Be right back.” He assured as he walked out the door. I felt that he was more worried about leaving than I was and the middle-aged nurse giggled at the overt display of affection.

“He really cares about you, doesn’t he?” She grinned in a rhetorical question as she began cutting away the bandages over my torso so that she didn’t need to reach around the front of me to unwrap them. “A guy can never love his girl enough, ever. So latch yourself onto him and never let go.” She laughed, peeling away the bloodied patches now and I could feel it all. I winced at her words and again, it wasn’t the pain but that I was planning on doing the exact opposite: I was planning on running.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting a response from me, she turned back to the matters at hand. “The doctor gave you 20 stitches and it will take roughly 4 weeks to heal completely. Because it was pretty deep.”

“A month?” I looked up at the blank ceiling in detachment and she made a noise of affirmation.

“It’s suggested that you don’t lie on it or put pressure against it so as to not open or exacerbate the wound. And it’s probably best not to wear tight fitting clothes.” She began to help me out of the bed and I did as she directed.

“Here, I’ll help you get cleaned up. You boyfriend brought fresh clothes that you can change into. I’ll show you how to wash properly. This way,” she gestured to the side-door of the hospital room. You hadn’t been paying attention before but you realised that it was actually pretty big and spacious; a room someone on public health benefits wouldn’t be able to afford. Myungsoo must’ve pulled a few strings, again.

“Oh and if you need any pain-killers because things get really bad, I can get the doctor to write you a prescription.” She good-naturedly suggested.

But I shook my head. “It’s okay. I don’t really feel it anyway.”

The silence that ensued wasn’t really uncomfortable or awkward but an acknowledgement shared between the both of us, like she had realised it really wasn’t the pain that was making me numb. Was I that obvious?

~

A/N: Hey, I hope you guys enjoyed~ I really like where this fic is going - I can see direction with the plot and the development of the characters so stay tuned for big things! This is really a more mature piece of work, I think at least and I hope you love it even half as much as I do.