It was completely ironic. The last time we met was at a hospital. After three years, we meet again, at a hospital. Come to think about it, it was the same freaking one as well. Fates sure play a twisted game. She looked no different than she had three years ago, but definitely looking much better than the pale faced figure reclined on that bed back then. Yes, that's right, the last time we met she was the one stuck in this God damned bed, and now it was my turn.

If the Fates could be killed, they would have died twice over now.

She stood outside the door, unsure of whether to enter or not. I noticed her indecision but sat back to watch what she would do. Besides, it hurt too much to talk right now. I shifted my eyes from her to stare at the small container with my daily dose of pain pills in it. If I took it, the pain would go away and then again, so would my awareness and therefore, what was left of my ever dwindling life.

My pills seemed like to have multiplied for some reason. When I first came to the hospital, there were about five different pills that the doctors insisted I should take. Within a few days and what seemed like an eternity of tests, my five lonely little pills decided to create a fivesome among themselves. I thought the pink little one in the corner looked a little plump, but it turned out that it was just pregnant, along with the yellow one next to it. The other pills stayed far away what seemed to be hormonal overload from two other expecting pills and rely when they had safely given birth.

I thought the pink pill looked demurely proud holding the little white pill that was its offspring cuddled against it.

Did I mention I was going insane as well?

Anyways, as I was saying, my doctors decided that I somehow needed more medication and before do you know, the little cup got fuller and fuller each day while my mind got fuzzier and fuzzier. I hated this loss of control, but my saviours decided that it was necessary. I had taken to throwing the medication away recently and so far, no one was the wiser.

No, I decided. A little pain was bearable. Only, the pain was no longer little. Day by day, it got worse, eating away my insides, making me less than I was.

And it hurt.

"Seungri," she said, quietly. Apparently, she decided to come in.

Ah, well.

I turned my eyes from the unseemly preoccupation of my nightstand to gaze deeply into teary puppy brown eyes that I had thought I would never see again, or wanted to see again. She had not changed much in those agonizing three years. A little more filled out perhaps, eyes a little more haunted but she was the same Lee Chaerin I knew, the same Lee Chaerin I fell in love with four years ago.

"Hi," I greeted, a smile plastered on my face. These smiles were getting harder and harder to put on as the pain got more and more vicious.

Lee Chaerin, love of my life, of the century. She rocked my world and then turned it into a freaking nightmare. Even through all that, I loved her. Couldn't forget her, freaking forgave her before she even asked for it.

Actually, she never asked for it. I did it anyway.

Am I pathetic or what?

Chaerin sat in a chair that was permanently situated by my bedside ever since my long lost buddy, the famous billionaire Mr Kwong Jiyong decided that my life or what's left of it, was his personal affair. He came by an average of once a day to provide 'moral support'. How much support do you need to die? Maybe he would arrange a cheerleading squad one day to cheer me into oblivion. Hmm, that would be kind of interesting I guess. Better yet, a full orchestra to serenade me while I choke on the last few breaths in my lungs. That would have to be priceless. Sweet as he was, I felt he had the weirdest outtakes on certain aspects of life.

"How… When…" she started a few times, only to clam up, blushing profusely and only managed a weak,"Hi."

I shifted in my bed, trying to find a more comfortable position and to get away from the waves of agony now trying to eat out my soul, unable to hide a grimace.

Chaerin was instantly on her feet, at my side, hovering like a mother hen. "Are you alright? Do you need any medication?" she snagged the container by the bedside and a glass of water.

I held my hand out to stop the rambling. I concentrated on myself, trying to push the pain away, receding into the background. It worked to some degree and I thank Gods for Daesung's breathing exercises. He maybe a bit of a tight in most cases, but my friend was one fabulous yoga instructor.

"How have you been Rin?" I asked, settling against the pillows a very concerned ex-boyfriend. I could see from the tense lines on her face that she still wanted very much to coddle and push the pills into me, but the harsh expression I schooled my face into brook no disobedience.

She sat back down, pills and water still in hand, her beautiful eyes staring blankly on the ground. She mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, but I think my illness has ruined my ears," I quipped easily. "I didn't hear a thing you just said."

Her head snapped up at the joke about me being sick, the pained expression in those eyes almost my undoing. I wanted too much to wrap her in my arms and tell her that everything was going to be just fine. But that would be lying, and I never lie.

Everything would never be fine again.

She was still staring at me, a host of emotions playing on her face. It was as if she wasn't sure what to feel, but three emotions played dominant.

Pain, sadness, and guilt.

Pain for me, sadness that I am dying and guilt for letting me deal with it alone for so long.

"I'm sorry, Seungri," she cried, dropping the pills and cup onto the floor and flinging into my arms, sobbing harshly. "I am so sorry."

It felt right, so right. Not the fact that she was sobbing like a baby, dripping snot onto my thin hospital issue gown. That was just gross and I don't think I want to go there anymore, but her body pressed so close to mine, my hand rubbing her back, soothing her, comforting her. It was so familiar. So nice.

It was as if the four years that had nearly ruined me never happened.