I wasn’t myself for a while. My head felt disconnected from my body, my limbs frozen but my mind in overdrive, racing with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, dragging itself out at an agonizingly slow pace. It was too much to take.

It was all too much.

For the first few days, I didn’t speak. When Ryeowook asked if I wanted food or water, even though I did, I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My jaw was wired shut with the silence of betrayal, and nothing seemed of importance, not even the things I needed to stay alive.

Ryeowook, through it all, was the one who supported me most. He came to check on me more often than not, though his rounds didn’t allow it. He would just sit there with me in the unbreakable, suffocating quiet I had created, lounging in the wooden chair at my bedside and making occasional commentary that I never returned.

The first night, I lay awake sobbing. I hadn’t cried since. I couldn’t bring myself to cry; even when I got close, the tears sitting in their ducts, waiting, hoping to escape, they didn’t. My eyes burned, and instead of being lined with red, they were purple and sunken with the curse of sleep deprivation and lack of strength.

It had gotten to the point that Ryeowook had to inject liquids into my system to keep my stomach from shrinking and morphine to help me get at least a few hours of sleep.

I awoke from another medically induced, dreamless sleep, thinking I would feel just an ounce better but just coming up broken. It had been a week now, eighty four hours since Jongin had walked into the very room I was isolated in, his head low and eyes holding the story that would haunt me for the rest of my life. He cheated on me. He left me for a woman, someone he was with every day for months.

I should’ve known all along.

Jongin had always mentioned her so casually, the promises that nothing would ever come between us leaving his lips so naturally that at the time I never would’ve believed it was such a lie. He and I both knew he messed up, took a horribly wrong turn, but whether or not he accepted it was beyond me.

It wasn’t my job to care anymore.

It was hers.

Only a few minutes later the door to my room slowly opened, revealing a very solemn looking Ryeowook. He had a plate of eggs and rice that I automatically figured out were for me to consume. My stomach had been howling ever since yesterday morning, and I couldn’t keep this up much longer.

I had to eat normal food soon.

I was supposed to be able to go five days ago; Ryeowook decided, in my state, that I needed to stay because my behavior really wasn’t good for one that had just experienced brain trauma. He was the one who provided the morphine and liquids, as I wasn’t supposed to be a registered patient anymore.

Ryeowook seemed to be the only one who cared anymore.

Seeing I was awake with a small half-smile, he took a seat next to me, setting the breakfast on the folding out table attached to my bed and putting the small cup of water he had left there right before he went home last night. The amount in there hadn’t changed.

The silence was stifling, and when Ryeowook finally broke it, hunched over and fingers laced together. His posture replicated Jongin’s that night. “Listen, Kyungsoo. This isn’t healthy anymore. This could seriously affect you. I need to save those liquids for someone who actually needs you. I can’t be your guardian anymore. You’re being discharged today, and this time I can’t hold it back.”

I stared at my hands. The bruises and cuts that once littered my arms were now gone, only a few scars from the ones requiring more than a band-aid. There was a big purple bruise in the crook of my elbow where an IV poked through the skin, but that had since been removed. Only one remained.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him. I was ashamed at my behavior, but I still felt so empty, so shattered as the uncomfortable, waiting presence of my friend suffocated me. Finally fed up, Ryeowook let out an exasperated sigh and slightly pushed the plate closer to me with his forefinger. “Kyungsoo, you have to eat.”

“No, I don’t,” I blurted out, unthinking. Ryeowook’s features lit up considerably. “I can just sit here and rot and hope that cheating bastard has a long and prosperous life with that bitc—“

“Kyungsoo,” Ryeowook ordered sternly, his expression fallen. “I’m not concerned about that right now. The thing that comes first is your health, not your relationship.” With that, Ryeowook reached over and picked up the pair of chopsticks resting atop a pile of rice, tearing off a piece of the soft egg with the utensil and sticking it in my face, his hand steady with years of practicing medicine.

I just kind of stared at it. It was right under my nose, and it smelled so good… but I didn’t deserve it. If I couldn’t even keep the love of my life happy, why should I eat it?

Ryeowook, now infuriated, roughly grabbed the beginning of my jaw, the look in his eyes both intimidating and determined. I stared at him in shock as the pads of his fingers dug into the bone. “Dammit, Do Kyungsoo, I’m not kidding anymore.”

With that, he pulled my lower lip down, taking my chin with it and exposing my mouth cavity, and pushing the chopsticks in until they almost touched the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow, the feeling of having food flow into my esophagus now foreign after my neglect to eat.

Ryeowook, now satisfied, returned to his position and sighed. “Sorry, I guess I was just a bit finished with all of this… Feel better yet?”

I didn’t answer, as I was already halfway done with my plate.

~*~

It was only hours later that all my things had been slammed into the duffel bag Jongin had brought me of my things right after he was well enough to make the trip, Ryeowook signing the discharge papers and ordering a nurse to bring him a wheelchair.

I could balance on my own, but it still hurt a bit to walk, my nerves not quite used to it after the surgery. I was working on a last minute double check, making sure I had absolutely everything before someone else occupied my room.

The only thing not packed was a vase of beautiful, perked red roses.

They sat on the windowsill, and I had asked Ryeowook to water them for me at the time. They were a gift from Jongin; he promised to replace them every time they died, but I never let them. I would call Ryeowook in if I even saw the slightest signs of wilting.

Now, they were a dark gray and began to break off, falling onto the couch placed directly the window. I heard footsteps approaching, and a soft hand rested on my shoulder. I turned my head and Ryeowook’s expression was a bit sad. “Want me to get the nurses to clean that up?”

I nodded.

It wasn’t long before the wheelchair had arrived and I could finally escape the confinement of the hospital. I knew I would miss it; being able to see Ryeowook everyday and just have him there. It’s comforting, even in the past few days when I wished he would go away.

I had realized I needed him.

Rather hesitantly, I climbed into the wheelchair, Ryeowook right behind me as the halls and people blurred in my peripheral vision. It wasn’t very busy for a Saturday afternoon, but busy wasn’t good anyway.

One elevator ride and five minutes later, we walked out of the hospital, a bright yellow taxi awaiting our arrival. I had asked my friend to call one for me since I otherwise had no transportation home without the bus or train, which was too far a distance to walk.

So our last resort was a taxi.

I climbed out of the wheelchair slowly, letting my legs get used to supporting all my weight, before turning to Ryeowook. “I owe this to you. You’ve been such a help; I can’t thank you enough.”

Ryeowook grinned, his cheekbones rising to touch his eyes. “No, thank you. You’ve actually made work fun. I’m going to miss having you around.”

“I can say the same.” I pulled Ryeowook into a hug, wrapping my arms around his back. He did the same, rubbing smooth circles before I separated from him.

He opened the taxi door for me, which I nodded my head to him in thanks and ducked to fall against the leather seat and the smell of strong air freshener. I turned to Ryeowook, who was still smiling. “I put my number in your phone when you weren’t looking; oh, and make sure you go straight home. I… arranged something.”

A bit bewildered and curiosity running through my veins, I smiled. “Okay. Thank you, Ryeowook hyung.”

“No problem, Kyungsoo.”

He shut the door to the taxi. We exchanged waves before the driver was driving away, leaving my assistant in the mix of dirt blown up by the tires and our goodbye.

~*~

Ryeowook wasn’t kidding.

As soon as I walked through the door, my ears had been pelted by the shout of “Welcome home, Kyungsoo!” courtesy of my three best friends standing by the couch. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit; how considerate of him to call the three morons in my life.

But they were my morons.

It wasn’t long before they were examining the damage from the accident; none of them had come to visit in that long time in the hospital, all caught up in overtime trying to make ends meet. They seemed fascinated by my battle wounds.

“How bad did it hurt?”

“Dude, the scar on your head looks sick.”

“Ew, look at where his IVs used to be! It’s all bruised!”

The four spend the next hour or so talking, Chanyeol folded over Baekhyun’s body in a protective, loving hold and Jongdae sitting on the floor so I could have the recliner he loved to sit in so much.

It was considerate, but would never happen after I was completely healed.

When the conversation died down, Chanyeol piped up with “Let’s watch some TV”, locating the remote on the coffee table and hitting the ‘on’ button. The first show to appear was a music show, premiering what looked to be a brand new music video.

“Ugh, I hate these music shows,” Jongdae commented with a bored expression. “Never any good singers anymore.”

Chanyeol was about to switch when I blurted out “wait!”, causing all eyes to turn on me. I didn’t notice, my eyes bored into the screen as I analyzed every part of the video carefully.

The group was two boys and a girl.

I could recognize the boy with hair styled to perfection and tanner skin than the rest anywhere.

The others now quickly realizing what was appearing on the screen—Ryeowook had informed them about him—they watched me carefully, eyes boring into me and making me squirm at the amount of intensity. They wanted to make sure I would be okay, that I was fine with it.

Surprisingly… I was.

The graceful, beautiful dance moves were still there as he danced behind Minjun, the boy next to him I assumed was Kris. The vocals of the song were awful, though, despite how much I helped Jongin before. I couldn’t stand it for much longer. “Okay, you can change it now.”

No one made a move.

Now turning to face the small audience I had created, I emphasized my wording. “Didn’t you hear me? You can change it.”

“Kyungsoo…” Baekhyun started, now sitting up from Chanyeol’s chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I was silent for a second. Was I really okay? I took one last look at the screen, right as Jongin had a close up, before turning back to my friends. My heart still ached with memories, but I knew, somehow, I would be able to get through this.

“Couldn’t be better.”

~*~

Thought we were done, did ye? Muhaahahaha never.

So my good buddy MissTomorrow (if you look closely she does my covers for... everything) Skypes me everyday and one day I with the thought that there might be a 3rd part to this story.

Aaaaand she took me seriously. And made a cover.

The cover was really nice, too, so I just couldn't pass it up.

So, yes, there will be one more! Unbroken! Yaaaay~ It's only going to be one part, but since the cover was there and there would have to be such a big time gap to make my plans come true, why the hell not? :3 So please go subscribe to Unbroken right here and it will probably be up by the end of the week sometime~

Hope you enjoyed Unspoken! Comments are loved! <3