As my condition slowly grew better, my relationship with Ryeowook grew stronger. It came to the point where he would take his all of two breaks—one being lunch—to spend at my bedside so I wouldn’t be alone. Despite his squeaky voice and peppy personality, he was a very interesting person.

But while I got closer to Ryeowook, I drifted from Jongin. It had been three days since he had been called back into SM Entertainment, and he hadn’t visited me a wink. I was starting to get concerned; I texted him and called him constantly, asking where he was and why he wasn’t with me, and he would always tell me he was getting “extra help” with his ribs and would come see me soon.

Soon had yet to come.

“Guess what’s coming off today, Kyungsoo?” Ryeowook suggested with a rather happy tone in his voice, holding up a rather sharp looking pair of scissors and looking like quite the maniac. What was coming off didn’t concern me; the fact that he had a weapon did.

“My fingers?” I replied weakly, afraid to take my eyes off of the scissors, making Ryeowook chuckle and then shake his head as a follow up. He lowered the scissors, much to my relief, and instead took a step closer to my bed and pointed the scissor point at my head.

“Your bandages are coming off! Your stitches, too, probably, if they didn’t get infected while they sat under there,” he added happily. While I was excited that this was a big step to going home for good, the fear that they had gotten infected or something else bad was going to happen creeped into my throat and made me unable to speak.

I’m paranoid. It’s a curse.

Instead of waiting for a response, Ryeowook jumped right into, drawing closer and lifting the scissors to my bandages. I felt the cool metal of one of the ends touch my head briefly before it closed in on the gauze, making a clean cut across the fabric until it was split in half. Carefully, as to not stag the stitches, Ryeowook lifted all of the torn gauze off of my head.

The first thing I noticed was my hair was gross and matted. I lifted a hand to grab a few clumps of hair in my fingers, only to notice it was shorter than it had been during the accident. “Did you cut my hair?” was the first thing that left my mouth.

Ryeowook nodded sheepishly. “We didn’t have your or Jongin’s consent to shave your head to reach your wounds, so we just took a few inches off. I tried to trim it up a little so it didn’t look as terrible as it could have,  but I’ll pay for your haircut if you don’t like it,” he joked, reaching for a mirror on my nightstand and placing it in my grip.

It was a lot shorter, I would admit, but it didn’t look as bad as I had feared. I leaned down a bit, quickly locating a ragged line of stitches, blood dried around the wound. “That’s gross,” I laughed, awed that it was on my head.

“Yeah, I know,” Ryeowook agreed, “But they’re coming out soon. You can also shower after it’s all done, as I’m sure you want to, but your IV slots have to be covered and I should probably help you. We’re going to keep you for a couple more days, just to make sure you’re not at risk for seizures or something worse. But after that… you’re free, Kyungsoo.”

The thought made me grin. My bed was waiting for me at home, beckoning me to come and snuggle in the fabric of my sheets. But for now, I was still in my stiff hospital bed.

Before I even knew it, the stitches were gone. I didn’t feel a thing, and Ryeowook was so quick and skilled in removing them that it was done in less than two minutes. I could finally run my hand through my hair, despite its revolting state of not being washed in a week.

After Ryeowook had put away the tools and had returned with a plastic sleeve for my IV colored arm and a towel, he held his hands onto me as I fought to swing my legs over. I was once again reminded how weak the accident had made me, but I wouldn’t let it conquer my strength.

My feet touched the cold tile floor, and Ryeowook’s hands slipped under my armpits as he lifted me up to balance. I was wobbly, but I was finally standing. I had never realized how important it was until this moment. Ryeowook grinned, slowly backing up as he helped me take steps, as if he was helping me take my first.

The bathroom wasn’t far away, and we quickly arrived, Ryeowook setting me on the closed toilet seat as he prepared a bath for me. Feeling incredibly awkward, especially with his uality, I rid myself of my gown and slipped the sleeve over where the tubes once led to my machines.

Ryeowook briefly glanced at my… area, but did or made no reaction to it whatsoever. They must have been taught not to care in medical school, because there would be no way I’d be that calm.

He helped me step over into the bathroom, and the only thing I could focus on was the water. It felt so nice and warm against my skin, like a blanket you never want to escape from. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as Ryeowook lathered my hair with soap, scrubbing out the dry blood and negligence for hygiene.

There was a comfortable silence was he washed me, nothing awkward at all. Even though the soap slightly got into my cuts, it didn’t burn, leaving me to believe it was some special soap. It was a little weird, as Jongin was the only boy to ever touch me period, but it was Ryeowook’s job. Nothing wrong with it.

The bath was over sooner than I had preferred, but he supported me as I fought to get my gown on and climb back into bed, my wet hair staining the pillow behind my head. Ryeowook reconnected my lines, and soon my heart monitor was beating its normal pace once more.

As if on cue, a pager attached to Ryeowook’s hip began beeping rambunctiously. He craned his neck to take a look at the small screen in the corner, letting a sigh escape pursed lips. “It’s my attending. I have to take another case. Think you’ll be okay without me?”

“I’m not five, Ryeowook,” I assured him with a smile. “I’ll survive, I promise.”

Ryeowook bit back a smile. “Right. Enjoy your cleanliness, Kyungsoo.” He hurried out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him. The room an eerie quiet, I sunk deeper into my pillow, lifting my phone to my face and being careful not to tug my lines as I scanned my messages.

I had two from Chanyeol asking about Jongdae, one from Yunho wishing me well, and one from Jongin I hadn’t seen come in. I opened the mass of messages we’ve shared that were now dimming to a small conversation a day, reading the newly arrived one with anxiety bubbling.

From: Jongin <3

Hey… I’m coming over there at four.

My eyes flew up to the time. Three fifty.

Texting back would be useless, so I instead left the app and scrolled through my other options. My finger slipped, leaving me on my photos. Out of curiosity, I opened them and looked through.

Most of them were of me and Jongin, on our many dates and adventures. Some were for my writing, some of Chanyeol stealing my phone and taking dumb pictures when we go on double dates. My home screen was one Chanyeol took of Jongin and I. Our heads were touching as we leaned to look at what I remembered was the menu for the restaurant.

I just hoped it could stay that way after today.

I wasn’t sure what I was nervous about. Knowing Jongin, he would bring flowers and say “sorry I’m such a bad boyfriend” or something along those lines. His texts sounded pretty emotionless, but it was hard to make a text have emotion. I didn’t know what to think; I could only hope it was going to go good.

My anxiety grew when the door creaked open, revealing my lover. He was dressed in his average clothing, but his hair was styled to perfection and his face looked like it had been touched up with makeup. My eyebrows furrowed. “Hi, Jongin. Why is your—“

“We started filming the music video today,” Jongin interrupted with a dull tone, obviously knowing where I was going. I shut my mouth slowly as he took a seat, pulling up a chair at my bedside. Usually, he would grab my hands, but today, he kept them intertwined in front of his hunched figure.

This was odd.

“Jongin, is everything okay? You’re turning pale,” I asked, genuinely concerned with his appearance. Despite what should make him look perfect, Jongin’s expression ruined everything. He looked angry, like he was ready to send a fist to my skull.

“I’m…” he trailed off, like he wanted to say something, but only sighed in frustration. “No, I’m not okay.”

This was turning concerning. I didn’t take my gaze off of him, though he wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Okay, so what’s wrong?”

He was quiet. I didn’t want to speak in fear that he would snap, so I simply kept my mouth shut as I waited for what was sure to be an interesting response. Finally, he looked up from his lap, but he still wouldn’t look at me, which was starting to get suspicious. He always looked at me. He loved my eyes. “I… I just feel so bad… that you can’t… do… anything… and I—“

“Whoa, whoa, Jongin. I don’t understand.”

I watched him take a shaky breath in and release it. My heart beat was quickening, and Jongin’s half lidded stare rose to my heart monitor, his voice quiet. “This is exactly the reason we’re here in the first place… Minjun… she’s been a really big help lately. She’s taken me to her place, made me food, helped me feel like I wasn’t such a disgrace with my ribs… and last night… we were talking, and I…”

“You what?” I snarled, now having a feeling I knew where this was going.

“I… broke. I kissed her. And she didn’t fight me, like I thought she would because I’ve told her all about you… but… one thing l-led to another and… I…”

My throat ran dry. I felt my heart crumble, all of the pieces falling to the end of my stomach. My head throbbed as I tried to comprehend what information he had just given me. I was so stunned, so hurt, that it burned to speak. “You cheated on me?”

Jongin slowly turned away from the heart monitor, his eyes only now meeting mine. He looked like he had stopped breathing, not moving at all, until his head moved down slowly and back up in a nod.

I couldn’t believe it. There was absolutely no way. The man I had dedicated my everything to, the one person who had every ounce of my trust, my love, my heart, cheated on me. With a woman. I had always feared this would happen, but always pushed it aside and enjoyed him for who he was.

Now I know who he is.

A monster.

Jongin watched solemnly as tears welled in my eyes. A lump in my throat formed, and I knew soon I wouldn’t be able to speak without sobbing. The only thing I could get out in time was a quiet, but hatred filled, “Get out.”

A sigh escaped Jongin, but he didn’t move. This infuriated me more. Had he not heard me? “I said… GET THE OUT!” I screamed with all of my might, letting the tears escape and drip down my face. With hesitation, Jongin took one last look at me before he stood up and left the room, more or less slamming the door behind him.

The quiet was back again. Without thinking, I tilted my head up to look at the boring white tiles on the ceiling. My voice wobbled as I spoke. “You should’ve saved the soul for your mother, Sehun. She deserves it more.”

And that’s when the crying began.

~*~

Ha. I'm evil. Not even sorry.

I'm sorry for the late update. D: I wanted to update before I went to band camp on the 7th but I was dead on ideas and then camp was too much fun to care about this story and then all weekend I cleaned my room but I'm here now and I hope I crushed your dreams hahaha.

I'm expecting a lot of "I hate you authornim" comments hehe ^^

oh and if you're curious what Kyungsoo's lockscreen is here it is :D