June 1^st, 2013

7:00am.

Lay opens his eyes to stare at the helicopter-like ceiling fan above him. It appears as if it could fall at any second and land directly on top of him. He sighs and wonders if it would hurt or if he would even care if it did fall. He looks over at the clock layered thick with dust. It reads seven a.m. He feels the lump in his throat rise and the anxiety takes its familiar place in the pit of his stomach.

The stabbing feeling reminding him of butterflies trapped in a small space trying to flap their way free. It's not too late to back out and change his mind. He doesn't have to do the surgery. He doesn't have to give up his life just to save Suho. Surely, there is another way that he can help him live.

The aching feeling of guilt in his chest reminds him that there isn't. The past six months of his life have been full of new discoveries about himself that he never expected to find. He feels things that he never thought would be possible; love, worry, jealousy, anger. Feelings for someone other than himself that is. However, it was worth it. It has to be. It was obvious that he was choosing to die. He knew it more than anyone did. The concern of the doctor’s words still echo in Lay’s head.

 Nevertheless, he had held his ground. Legally they couldn’t tell him no. They could advise against it and rightly so. The risks of doing the surgery were straddling the line of extreme. How was he supposed to know that his heart had weakened during the healing process, and that the stress of any more surgeries in his life could kill him? They seemed to know for sure that he was going to die.

To him he wasn’t dying without cause. He sighs and lets his mind wonder over the past six months.

He let it wonder to the day his life changed forever.

 

December 12^th.

8:33am.

Six months ago.

Lay stared at himself in the mirror. The same thing he did every morning before leaving his run-down apartment. He ran his fingers through his tousled black hair.

“I guess I look presentable enough,” he says.

His eyes traveled down his reflection to the small freckle that lies under the corner of his left eye. When he smiles dimples suddenly appear on either side of his face. He leaned forward to get closer to the mirror as if somehow blurring the vision of Lay himself would improve the reflection that stared back at him.

He was wearing the same black leather jacket. The same one he had gotten from his older brother almost ten years ago. It had started to wear down from the inside and the leather had begun to fade slightly. He wore dark navy pants that he had been sure were black and not blue. As always, he had wore his favorite and only pair of suede shoes.

He turned to take one more glace at his apartment. He ran his eyes over the stains in the ceiling that he had hoped were only from water damage. He looked at the walls that were once a bright white, but then held a slightly dull tint from age. The same image had been burned into his memory for the past five years and was the same thing he saw every day before he had left his apartment.

Traffic turned out to be heavier than usual well, the usual for New Jersey. Lay stared down at the gas gauge, which dangerously hovered over being empty. Waiting much longer in that traffic would have caused his car to die. A steady snow fell dusting the windshield. A layer of the white fluff would have soon covered the ground. He looked over at his worn notebook lying in the passenger seat. He had let out a long exaggerated sigh while he rubbed his face with a frustrated attitude. He flipped on his windshield wipers only to have watched them stop in the middle. Beads of sweat gathered on the back of his neck trying to find an escape through the back of his shirt.

He looked up in just enough time to slam on his breaks. The red light blocked his escape and forced him to fight for clear vision through the snow that had collected on his windshield.  He looked over and noticed his notebook had flown into the floor when he stopped. “,” he mumbled.

He had let go of the wheel with every intention of grabbing his papers, as he reached over the passenger seat his right arm brushed against the rough material of the seat. He glanced up nervously at the snow that continued to gather in front of him. He sighed once more and stretched further. He grabbed the papers harshly and shoved them back into the book. A car honked from some place behind him. Without a second thought given, he slammed the gas pedal, and threw his car into oncoming traffic. He cursed to himself and flipped the wiper button angrily.

“Come on, work!” he yelled.

Lay had felt himself wake up as if he had come out of a dream. He opened his eyes to blurred vision; he tried to blink it away. His head pounded in response and he couldn't seem to regain his focus. The commotion around him sounded like distant echoes.

He raised his hands to his eyes and blinked a few more times. He saw double but the blurriness was subsiding. He noticed his air bag has blown and a fuzzy memory of the impact came back to his mind. He looked up to see that his windshield had been cracked in multiple places. "I was in an accident." Lay said, his voiced filled with shock.

He opened the door to see the red caution flares directing traffic to go around. He winced at the pain the light caused. He fought his way out of his seat belt and pushed his way to the asphalt after trying to move his legs. Confused he looked up and noticed his left leg was jammed under the steering wheel from the impact and the hot searing pain had temporarily disappeared. After he had worked his leg free, he lied back with a gasp the cool ground away the sweat pooled at the back of his neck.

He felt his chest tighten and adrenaline rushed through his veins. He felt vomit rise in the back of his throat. “This can’t be happening to me,” he said as his voice had come out in a whisper.

He lied back to catch his breath. He hoped that someone would come to help soon, at least before he could feel his leg again. Snow continued to fall and small ice chips landed on his face causing him to wince when they stung on impact. He turned his head to the side to avoid the chilling feeling and noticed the other car. A silver Volvo leaned to the right side because of a blown front tire. The front end was smashed to the point that it looked like the flat-nosed bus that Lay used to ride back in elementary school. Two firefighters were pulling a man from the driver’s seat. He appeared to be unconscious, and blood dripped from his mouth. Lay looked him over to see a shard of glass, most likely from the windshield, penetrating the man's abdomen.

He carefully looked at the man’s face noticed that he was Korean. He looked young, maybe in his early twenties. Lay’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the same hot searing pain rippled through his entire left leg. His constant screams for help had immediately brought someone over.

“Sir?” A police officer asked with a worried tone.

Lay’s eyes stung with tears, and he turned his head and searched for the source of the voice. He felt a pair of hands touch his face that had been checking for head and neck injuries.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered

Lay met the gaze of the police officer.

“It’s my fault,” he said again that time in a low mumble.

He felt his eyes go heavy and slipped into unconsciousness.

 

June 1^st, 2013

7:30am.

Lay shivers from the memory remembering everything was like making it happen all over again. Lay looks over at the clock and feels his heart sink. Thirty minutes have passed and he still didn't want to get out of bed. He brings his hands to his face and tries to rub the tired feeling away. He sighs after a few seconds, throws the covers back, and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

The creaking sounds of the worn springs remind him that he isn't living in luxury. Nevertheless, the idea that today he is saying goodbye to the home he has been in for the past few years terrifies him. There won't be any more barking at night from the neighbors Chihuahua, no more late night walks to the Quick Stop to buy a cheaply made bag of instant coffee, or even anymore eaves dropping on the man across the street who clearly sells drugs. 

He couldn't help but to question why he was doing this. He loved Suho, but would dying for him really prove anything. Either way he was ending up alone like usual. To feel alone is like being trapped in a dark room. Never knowing when someone will open a door or window just to get a breath of fresh air. Loneliness is never ending, and that feeling left his mind the day after the accident when he met Suho. He told himself to ignore the panic he was feeling.

Lay shook his head and stood at the entrance to his closet with the door off the hinges and rust covering where they once were. He throws on a simple t-shirt and jeans knowing that soon it won't matter what he was wearing. There was only two more hours to go until the surgery.

He could make it there and maybe this time without causing any trouble.

December 13, 2012

10:27am

Post-Accident.

Six months ago.

Lay blinked his eyes and stared up at an abnormally white ceiling. He frowned not recognizing it to be his apartment.

The beep of a machine not too far away made him jump. He looked to his left to see the tall, tan door to his room had been standing open. He was able to see into the hallway and into the room across from his. He squinted his eyes and tried to focus. The face of the man came clear into his head and he gasped.

“The accident,” he whispered.

The vague memories of the day before came flooding back. Everything had been blurry and dream-like. He pulled himself up and winced when a burning sensation occurred in his leg and his chest tightened. He pulled back the blanket and saw his gauze-wrapped leg. He frowned and wondered if the damage had been that bad.

He grabbed his chart from the end of the bed and flipped to the diagnosis page. He bit his lip and sighed. “Extensive nerve damage to left leg…will need daily physical therapy to regain full nerve use...mild heart attack during surgery due to stress...recommending no surgical procedures for ten to thirteen months,” he put the file back and waited as the information sunk in. "Heart attack? I'm not even twenty eight," he said to himself quietly.

He turned to look at the man again from across the hall. He remembered seeing him with glass in his abdomen and wondered to himself if everything went all right for him.

He stood up from his bed, used the crutches, and hobbled to lean against the doorframe.  He took note of the man's appearance. His hair was a soft chocolate brown. His eyes small and curved, but well balanced by a small nose and full lips. The man breathed steady and snored slightly. The machine beside his bed had pumped liquid into his I.V every few moments.

Lay eyed the file that had rested at the end of the man’s bed. He looked down at his leg and then bit his lip. He maneuvered himself the five feet across the hall and into the man's room; he grabbed the file and quickly flipped to the diagnosis page and scanned it for anything serious. He felt his heart sink as fast as a ship’s anchor in the high seas. “Patient underwent immediate surgery to repair internal injuries due to penetration of internal organs. Patient is currently stable, but waits on the donor list for new liver.”

Lay slid the file back into its place and turned to make his way back to his room. He turned for a moment and looked at the man once more. “Bad things always happen around me.” Lay whispered.

He heard a groan come from the man and his eyes went wide. He was suddenly awake and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lay asked, adjusting himself on his crutches.

The man jumped as if he were startled and looked over at Lay. He blinked as if he was trying to clear up his vision. He stared for a moment and then nodded and said. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Lay didn't know what to say next, the man clearly didn't seem to know him. He cleared his throat. “I’m Lay,” he said quietly.

 “I’m Suho," the man offered up a half smile.  "It’s nice to meet you.”

Lay smiled back.

June 1^st. 2013

7:45am.

 Lay still remembers how pathetic he felt that day. He had expected Suho to know who he was. However, Lay never questioned anything. It was like prying a hook from a fish to get Suho to talk at first. Nevertheless, Lay admired him from that very moment. Suho always had a strong mindset about him. It was inspiring almost in the same way as the time Lay witnessed a child rescuing a puppy from the street.

Lay stares down at his shoes as he walks his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He decides to make one last visit to the Quick Stop. He wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything before the surgery, but he wanted to look at everything; even though it would still be the same four aisles of cheaply made junk. He opens the door and savors the familiar sound of the welcoming bell.

The sounds reminding him slightly of the old church bells that hang in the chapel his parents got married at in Korea. He walks down the back aisle straight for the bag of instant coffee and smiles when he sees the familiar blue and white bag. "I'm going to miss you," he whispers under his breath.

He never imagined that he would talk to coffee.

 

January 3^rd. 2013

6:03am.

Five months ago.

Lay looked down at his notebook. He hadn’t touched it since the day of the accident. He could barely stand to look at it. How could he have let himself get distracted over something like a notebook full of rejected writing? When he really had thought about it that notebook had ruined his life. The only thing it had held were meaningless hopes and dreams.

He had run his fingers over the notebooks worn leather exterior. The leather was ripped and frayed in many places. It barely held the same brown color that it once had.

He flipped the book open to a blank page. He stared down at the blank lines. Normally the first sight of having seen a blank page would have inspired him immediately to write something new, but something was different then. The same yearning to write that he once had wasn’t there anymore.

The ache in his heart told him that maybe he was starting to realize that he had been dreaming of the impossible and maybe he just wasn't meant to be a writer.

Lay didn’t feel sorry at the fact that he had never wanted to see the notebook again. There was just one last thing he had needed to write. He pulled the pen from the center of the book and ran his finger over the marks on it from his bad habit of chewing it while thinking of what he would write next. It seemed like most of the time he had never knew he was doing it. The urge wasn’t there that time. He had known exactly what he had needed to say. He glanced over at Suho; sitting in his room had been a frequent hobby of Lay's. He looked back at the paper and smiled. He began writing.

Suho,

Today is January third, 2013. You’re asleep right now, and I feel that it’s time I told you everything. I can’t hold in my guilt anymore. I’m watching you as you take each breath and you seem so peaceful. Every so often, you snore, and although it may sound odd, it’s one of the most soothing sounds I’ve ever heard; apart from your laugh of course. I find myself conflicted. I want you to know everything I am writing now, but I don’t know if I have it in me to hand you this letter. Not without running away. You see, no one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. For once in my life, I can say that I am truly happy. And I have you to thank for that. I can say I've never had feelings for someone, so the emotions that I'm experiencing are all new to me. You bring out the exhilarating joy that I've never had, and all you have to do is smile. Suho, I'm falling for you. A day without your laughter is a day I will mark unlived. I'm so overjoyed that we were brought together; even if it was by accident. An accident that I can't admit I caused. Yes, I was the careless driver who took you out of your life. Maybe I'm greedy, but I need you to be by my side and I don't ever want to say goodbye. I feel that when you discover the truth you will push me away and there won't be any other option. I must be a damn fool to think that I could be lucky enough to get someone as wonderful and kind hearted as you to love me. I watch you grow weaker everyday as you struggle to hide that you're in pain. Let me take care of you. I will take on any burden you want to give me. I will fight for you. I would die for you. I would be willing to do anything to make you smile. In fact, I'm giving up on everything but that. My new main goal in life is to make sure that you are as happy as you can be. I owe you that. More importantly, I want to give you that. I hope that if you read this, or if you are reading this; that you know exactly how I feel; even if you don't feel the same. Just know that I will always be here for you.

Love,

Lay.

Lay sat his pen down and let his eyes trace over his written words one last time, before he closed the book for the final time.

 

June 1^st. 2013

8:15am.

Writing the letter that day didn't make Lay's pain go away. It didn't make anything easier. However, in the end he was glad that he had written it. He was sorry that he didn't try harder. He should have pushed through every obstacle with every amount of strength that he had and maybe today would have had a different outcome.  Suho had given Lay so much strength and encouragement, and more than anyone had in his entire life. They grew into new people over the last six months. They depended on each other. Even at their weakest points.

Lay looks up at the bright blue sky and inhales the fresh air to try to relax his mind. His thoughts drift to his parents and he realizes that he hasn't even told them what he was doing later that day. He was sure they wouldn't care after telling him not to contact them anymore. He still couldn't understand how a career choice can make parents disown their child. He sighs and walks up to the nearest graffiti-covered telephone booth and reaches into his pocket for a quarter.

He takes a deep breath and dials the number to his parent's house phone. He bites his lip nervously and fiddles with his fingers by popping them. The ringing echoes through his mind, which is completely empty of any train of thought. His heart sinks after hearing the beep to leave a message. He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to speak.

"Hey Mom, it's me." Lay says. "I just called to talk for a few minutes because later today I'm going to be busy. I guess you're out of the house, so I won't leave a long message. I know you hate the answering machine." Lay laughs lightly the awkward feeling, making his eyes sting with tears. "I just wanted to say that I love you Mom and I hope you are well. I guess I'm hanging up now." Lay starts to hang the phone back up and bites his lip to force back the tears. He brings the phone back to his ear. "Bye, Mom," he slams the phone down and leans against the booth. 

He knew he shouldn't have waited so long to try to talk to his mom again. He missed the sound of her voice even though it was only ever filled with disappointment. He sighed and raised his head up looking in the direction of the hospital. He nodded to himself and continued down the street.

February 8th.

1:37pm.

Four months ago.

Lay stared down at the long diagonal scar on his leg. The skin was still raised from the staples that were previously there. The scar had turned into an ugly pink color contrasting with the blackened bruise underneath, which was a constant reminder of why he had hated physical therapy, which had consisted of painful stretching to work out the stiffness of his muscles and nerves. The doctors had said that Lay would have chronic nerve pain for the rest of his life that was his least favorite about all of it.

Lay sat on the side of his bed and used the elastic band to stretch his leg. He winced with each small tug. Suho rolled over to him in his wheel chair. A huge smile settled on his face. The same way it did every time Suho came to visit Lay.

"Does is still hurt as much?" Suho asked.

Lay gritted his teeth and nodded before he stopped and shook his head. "I can't do it," he says. "Not today."

"You gave up after one try," Suho laughed lightly. "You have to be patient."

"I know." Lay said as he rubbed his face. "Suho, I want to tell you something."

Suho looked up his eyes filled with curiosity. He slid his fingers through Lay's and smiled for him to continue.

"I like you," Lay said his voice was softer than usual. "I mean that as in I have feelings for you."

Suho's smile widened into a grin and his face slightly turned red. He looked down and laughed lightly. "I'm so glad that you said that." Suho said. He brought Lay's hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. "I'm not good with expressing myself." Suho said as he gulped down his fear. "So the only way I know to say this is simply saying it. I feel the same, and I will make sure to show you every day, so that you don't forget." Suho said.

Lay laughs. “I will hold you to that.”

My first order in command,” Suho said. “Is that I want to watch the sunrise with you.”

“Why do you want to watch a sunrise?” Lay asked.

“I haven’t ever seen one.” Suho said. “I’ve always heard that it was romantic.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Lay said.

 

June 1^st. 2013

8:30am.

 Lay remembers his feeling of embarrassment. Having never confessed to anyone he had felt like he had a frog in his throat, and was afraid to say the wrong thing.  He was never any good at putting his feelings into actual words and actually saying them. So he felt like a major accomplishment had been made.  

The same thought that ran across Lay's mind every day. It was actually possible for Suho to feel the same. Lay didn't know what he would do without Suho's ability to encourage him with just a simple smile. He had a way to make people carry on. Suho never gave up. Lay stares at the entrance to the hospital as he stands about ten feet from the door, his hands safely resting inside his pants pockets.

"Do I really want to do this?" he asks himself.

 

February 14th.

5:47am.

Four months ago.

The sound of the Suho's moving wheel chair echoed loudly in the empty hallway. Lay quickly pushed Suho down towards the elevator; the only one that leads to the roof. Suho fought to stay awake.

Lay smiled to himself. He had to be sneaky, because patients weren't allowed on the roof, and for obvious reasons. Lay had remembered that Suho mentioned that he had never seen a sunrise before. Lay wanted to give him the experience before he had grew any weaker. Lay pushed him into the elevator and hit the button to the top floor.

Suho groaned and looked around. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Lay says.

Lay had predicted that they had at least an hour before someone discovered that they were gone from the room.  The elevator had come to a stop and the doors opened letting in a gust of warm air. Lay pushed the chair out and looked up at the half-lit sky. Suho looked up with a confused expression.

"Why are we out here?" Suho asked.

Lay smiled. "We are going to watch the sunrise."

He brought the chair toward the right side of the roof and stopped near the edge. He sat down by the chair and watched Suho's face as the bright orange sun rose above the horizon, and lit up the entire city of New Jersey.

"What do you think?" Lay asked.

Suho smiled. "It's more than I imagined."

Lay smiled in return and turned to look out at the city.

"This view reminds me of how I wanted to be an architect." Suho said.

Lay looked at him confused and asked. "Aren't you an accountant?"

Suho nodded. "Yes, but architecture was always an interest. I wanted to be the one that made the buildings into the art."

Lay looked up at Suho's face. "So what happened?"

"I had to face reality." Suho said. “My father passed away four years ago and my mother suffers from Alzheimer’s,” he sighed. “I had to do something so that I could take care of my mother’s nursing home bills.”

"I know exactly what you mean." Lay said.

"You do?" Suho asked.

Lay nods. "Well, you remember the notebook I have?" he asked without needing an answer, "It’s just the proof that I haven’t become the writer I envisioned."

“It’s obvious that notebook has a lot of hard work poured into it.” Suho said. “I believe that there is something golden in there,” he smiled and raised his hand and brushed it across Lay’s face.

“Thank you for showing me this, Lay.” Suho said.

Lay holds Suho’s hand tightly to his face. “You’re welcome.”

 

June 1^st. 2013

8:45am.

 Lay had been proud of himself for showing Suho the sunrise. It had given him back the warmth that has been slowly draining from him day after day.  They didn't celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Instead, they sat quietly, enjoying the feeling that someone was there. A few shared glances was all that needed to be done to show that they both were happy.

At the end of the day that's all that matters.

Lay stares down at the paperwork in his lap. The clipboard is chipped on the side from excessive use and the gritty-brown texture ruined from the pen indents. So far, he has only written his name and date –of-birth. His hand shakes nervously and the cap of the pen has somehow rolled into the floor. He closes his eyes tight and rests his head in his hands. “I feel sick,” he says to himself.

The Doctor needed his consent and without it they couldn’t perform the surgery, but something in the back of his mind was nagging at him to turn back. He loves Suho, but there was no way that this was the only option. He knew that trying to convince himself of that would never work, because it was the only option. Without his help Suho would die.

Lay owed him this, and that was the reassurance he needed to press the pen to the paper once more.

 

March 17th.

2:54pm.

Three months ago.

Lay felt Suho’s heated gaze on his back as he gathered the remainder of this things. He stopped and turned to look at Suho who had been waiting for him to say something. Suho chewed his lip and then huffed loudly as if he were exhaling his frustration.

“I can’t believe they are discharging you already.” Suho said.

Lay tilted his head and smirked. “They have no reason to keep me here, Suho.”

“I’m sorry,” Suho said. “I just want to see you as much as I can, before I get any worse.”

Lay walked over and sat on the edge of Suho’s bed. “I’m going to visit every day.”

Suho sighed and looked down at his hands as he fidgeted. “I’m going to miss you,” he raised his hand to Lay’s.

“I promise that I will come back,” Lay said. “You won’t have time to miss me.”

He grabbed onto Suho’s hand tightly and smiled.

“I knew you would get out of here first.” Suho said.

 “You’ll be out of here before you know it and I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Lay said.

“You don’t know that, Lay.” Suho says laying his head back on the pillow not easing his grip on Lay.

“You’re the strongest person I know, and I can say that you will definitely get out of here.” Lay said trying to reassure him.

Suho smiled and tugged on Lay’s hand and pulled him forward. Lay drew in a sharp intake of air and felt his body tense up. He chewed on his lip and made eye contact with Suho.

He exhaled and closed the small space between them, and softly pressed his lips to Suho’s.

 

June 1^st 2013

9:00am.

Lay has never been the type of person to make promises, and with the fear that he would never actually keep them. The promise to come back to see Suho was the first one he had ever made and kept. Lay smiles thinking of Suho’s reaction on that next day when he came to visit. He had seemed so surprised that it gave Lay a boost to his pride.

It made him never want to let Suho down. Even now, he hopes that Suho will see that he is doing this for him. Lay handed the nurse at the front desk his paper work and was now being escorted to a room where they would check his vitals to make sure he was ready for the surgery. Well, as ready as he could be considering there was still a high percentage that he would have another heart attack during surgery. He frowned at the paper-thin hospital gown in his hands. He didn’t want that to be the last thing he ever wore.

Lay chews on his bottom lip to try to keep himself from shaking. He stands up and slowly starts shedding each article of clothing; saying goodbye to it as it hits the ground. He walks over to the small mirror in the corner of the room and looks at himself one last time. “You can do this, Lay,” he tells himself. He offers up a half smile to the mirror and sighs feeling ridiculous. Maybe doing this wouldn’t be so bad anyway considering he didn’t have anything significant to go back to.

Lay didn’t want to lose Suho. He feels his heart take off beating sporadically. “That’s it,” he whispers. “This is worth it. This is why I haven’t made it as a writer, and why my life isn’t what I want it to be. Saving Suho is my purpose.” Lay smiles and turns back to the mirror. “If not me causing him to be this way someone else might have and then I wouldn’t have been able to save his life.” Lay nods to his own words the nervousness and fear slipping away.

 

March 18^th.

10:30am.

Three months ago.

Lay stared down at the white teddy bear in his hands. He hadn’t thought of getting Suho a get-well gift when he probably should have. He hadn’t ever bought anyone a meaningful gift before.

The hospital gift shop had been rather limited on its options for get-well gifts. It was either he chose from the assorted teddy bears or a balloon and candy. He rolled his eyes at how ridiculous he probably looked. He exited the elevator and walked up to Suho’s door. He took a deep breath and knocked. He opened the door before having heard a sound. He held the teddy bear in front of his face and peeks around it with a huge smile.

“I got you something cute.” Lay said.

“You came.” Suho said without noticing the bear; his voice was almost a sigh of relief.

“Of course, didn’t I say I would be back?” Lay asked.

Suho smiled and finally pointed to the stuffed bear. “What’s that for?”

Lay tossed it to him. “It’s a get well gift.”

“Thanks,” Suho said. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been given a bear before.”

Lay frowned and shook his head. “Then I will buy more of them.”

“So how was your first night being home?” Suho asked pulling Lay into the bed beside him.

Lay let out a long exaggerated sigh. “It was torture. I was so used to being alone before that now I have no desire to be anymore.”

Suho nodded in agreement while he hugged Lay close.

“Mine was about the same, “Suho said. “It gets too quiet here and that makes it seem even lonelier.”

. “Good thing you won’t be here much longer.” Lay said running his fingers through Suho’s hair.

“Why do you say that?” Suho asked.

“Because then the nights won’t be lonely anymore.” Lay said as he watched Suho his hand.

 

 

June 1^st

9:15am

Lay feels the ache in his heart deepen. He hasn’t given too much thought as to what his leaving would do to Suho. He was giving him back his life, but in return, Suho would go back to spending his nights alone. What kind of compensation was that? If he had any regret, it would be leaving Suho alone. Lay was happy with knowing that Suho would be able to start a new life and fall in love again. He knew that Suho would be able to do great things at least he hoped he would.

Lay wondered if this life experience would inspire Suho to pursue what makes him happy. Lay watched the nurse as she write notes on his chart. The thermometer under his tongue was making his bottom jaw ache. Why wouldn’t it beep already? The surgery was in less than an hour, so having a fever wasn’t an option.

The nurse walked over and pulled the thermometer out. “It looks like you’re fine. I’ll notify the doctor.” She said.

Lay nods and watches her leave before lying back on the uncomfortable examination table. He sighs in relief. “That was a close call,” he whispers.

 

April 19^th.

3:15pm.

Two months ago.

Lay ran up the stairs to the fourth floor by having taken two at a time. Suho had been sick that day and wanted to postpone the visit until the evening. That was until Lay had received a text telling him to come immediately. His heart pounded in his chest and his ears had been ringing. He felt as if he had anymore adrenaline at all he would have grown wings and began to fly.

He burst into Suho’s room as soon as he reached the door. “What’s the emergency?” Lay asked out of breath.

Suho looked up at him and quickly wiped away the tears that fell down his face.

Lay frowned and moved a chair by the bed. “Suho, what’s going on?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Suho whispered.

Lay swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Tell you what?”

“That you caused the accident.” Suho said, his voice sounded strangled.

Lay felt the blood drain from his face. “How did you find out?”

“I was given the police report a few days after I got here,” Suho said, “I didn’t read it at first because I didn’t want to know who had caused the accident.” He took a deep breath and began again. “I changed my mind because I knew that you would be there for me, but as I began reading the report your name was there and so was your photo.” Suho bit his lip to control the broken sound in his voice.

“It’s true that the wreck happened because of me,” Lay admits his words strangled.  “I’m so sorry, Suho. I was afraid to tell you because I knew you would hate me, but I want to make it up to you.”

“Is that what you have been doing?” Suho asked, his face turning red.  “You were making it up to me by making me fall in love with you?” he shook his head and curled his lip in disgust.

“No,” Lay said. “My feelings for you are real, Suho.” Lay said, as he reached for Suho’s hand.

“I can’t believe you,” Suho whispered, as he moved his hand away. “I can’t bring myself to trust a single word that you say.” he whispered.

 “Please forgive me,” Lay said, as he grabbed Suho’s hand and squeezed slightly. “You have no idea how sorry I am,” his voice caught in his throat.

“I want you to leave,” Suho said. “And don’t come back,” he pulls away from Lay.

Lay felt his chest tighten as if his heart had just shattered into a million pieces. Like glass had just fallen to the ground. He walked slowly to the door and turned to glance back. He had hoped Suho would look at him, but instead he had turned to look away. If there had been a way to describe the end of the world as a feeling that moment would have been it for Lay.

 

June 1^st 2013

9:30am

Lay wipes the tears from his face. He wishes he had tried everything possible that day to convince Suho that his feelings were real. Instead, he gave up a left just as Suho had asked. He waited for a phone call, but the phone never rang. His texts and messages were rejected. Suho had completely shut him out. He never thought he could feel so much pain at once.

Even the thought of remembering it brought the tears back. The day Lay decided to fight, and try to get the forgiveness he needed, was the day that he was too late. The door to the room opens and Lay quickly wipes his face.

“Hello,” the doctor began. “I see you have made your decision about donating.”

Lay nods, “Yes, I have.” he takes a deep breath.

“It’s not too late to change your mind.” The doctor says.

“Sir, “Lay begins. “I’m doing this because I want to, and I don’t feel like I have to,” he says, “At least now anymore.”

The doctor nods, “Then let’s get you to the O.R.”

Lay nods and stands to follow the doctor out of the room.

 

May 15^th 2013

12:13pm

One month ago.

Lay made his way through the hospital hallway. He planned to do whatever it took to get Suho to realize that he hadn’t been lying about his feelings. He really did love him. He couldn’t seem to plan his words out. After having been up all night worried about what he would say; he couldn’t make anything sound reasonable. He had just planned to wing it and say whatever came to mind.

Lay stopped in front of Suho’s door and waited for a moment to collect his thoughts. He placed his hand on the knob when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, Sir,” A male voice says. “No one can enter that patient’s room.”

Lay turned around to meet the eyes of his and Suho’s doctor.

“Lay, it’s you.” The doctor said, as his face grew solemn.

Lay frowned. “Why can’t I go in there?”

The doctor paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. “Lay, Suho has slipped into a coma,” his words were hesitant and his voice was apologetic.

Lay felt vomit rising in his throat and braced himself against the wall. He ignored the beads up sweat that gathered at the base of his neck, and the cold chills that made the goose bumps rise against his skin.

“We just have to wait it out and see if he makes it through the next couple of weeks.” The doctor said, placing his hand on Lay’s shoulder.

“There isn’t a donor yet?” Lay asked, standing back up to face the doctor.

The doctor just shook his head.

 “I remember seeing that I was a match,” Lay said. “I can donate now that I’m out of the hospital.”

“Lay, I highly recommend that you reconsider,” The doctor said. “Your heart barely handled a simple nerve repair; you wouldn't handle an organ donation.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lay said.  “I understand the risks. Just save him.”

 “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, and prepare for the worst.” The doctor said.

 

June 1^st 2013

9:45am

Lay stares at the ground as it moves past him. The nurse suggested that he ride in a wheel chair even though he was more than capable of walking. Lay feels himself wondering if the surgery will work and if Suho’s body will reject the new liver or not. He tries to focus on inhaling and exhaling, and not the fact that he was being wheeled to his death. In a way, he was still nervous, but for the most part, he was able to let his mind be at ease because he knew that the one he loved most would finally be okay.

Suho was getting to live his life, and that is what makes Lay the happiest. He looks up and watches the two doors at the end of the hallway that lead to the operating rooms. From far away they seem as tall as mountains painted with a smoke colored gray. The tiny windows at the center of each door barely seem big enough for anything to escape. After every push of the chair, the mountains get closer.

It’s as if they wait to be greeted by each newcomer. Some may think they are gates to another world.

If Lay had to guess, he would like to say they lead to heaven.

 

May 31^st 2013

7:52pm

The previous day

The doctor has made Lay wait almost two weeks. They had said that Suho wasn’t stable enough to go into surgery. Luckily, Suho had pulled through and it was either then or never.

Lay looked up from the floor at Suho. He lied still and stiff in the hospital bed. His yellowed skin improved since he saw him last. Lay pulled the white envelope from his pocket and sat it right side up on Suho’s bedside table.

“Suho, you need to promise me that you will read the letter.” Lay whispered.

He moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingertips across Suho’s forehead.

“They told me that I have to say goodbye.” Lay said. “But I didn’t realize this would be so hard to do. I hope that when you wake up you have the same bright smile that you have had since I met you.” Lay feels hot tears drip down his face. “I want you to remember everything I said in the letter, and believe that I will always be with you in some way,” he said.

He sniffed and leaned down to press his lips against Suho’s forehead.

 “I’ll see you in another life.” Lay whispered against Suho’s forehead before leaving the room.

 

June 1^st 2013

10:00am

Lay feels his body tense as they move him from the temporary gurney to the operating table. The I.V in his arm was just waiting for the anesthesia. He watches as the nurses move around the room with their checklists and stern faces.

He stares at the lamps above him that just wait to be switched on. The moment has finally come and he was ready for it. He was okay with letting go because he was doing it for a reason. He had accomplished something in his life that he never thought would happen to him; he had fallen in love, and this moment that was all he had.

Lay smiles and closes his eyes. “Goodbye, Suho,” he whispers for the last time.

 

The End.

 

 

 

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A/N:

 Okay this fic is actually my short story that I wrote for my creative writing class, my professor wouldn't accept it as a fanfic so I had to make up names but I changed them so it would be a fic again. ^^ I worked really hard on this story and the concept of going back and forth from past to present. I have changed a lot since the original verson so I hope you like it. :)))

~Britt