Requested by: Eld0rado

Characters: Kyungsoo [EXO] & Eunbyul [OC]

Premise: Eunbyul has a heart disease and is about to have a very risky surgery performed by Dr. Kim Joonmyun.  Determined to have her first kiss, she sets her sights on young, handsome intern Kyungsoo.  Do not make angst the main genre.

Author: Admin K, DivinestSense

Handle With Care

Staring out the window, Eunbyul gazed at the snow-dusted garden.  It was unbelievable how much time had passed.  Five years had passed since she had first been admitted.  Watching the snow fall, she could only think of how thirteen year old Eunbyul would never imagine the woman she would become. 

Eighteen-year-old Eunbyul didn’t believe it herself.

Moving her attention to the clock on the wall, her heartbeat sped up.

Two hours until her surgery.

Each move of the second hand loudly echoed off of the small, poorly decorated walls of her room.  She wasn’t nervous for her notoriously risky procedure—she was way past that kind of fear—she was on edge in anticipation.  Never did she expect the worst, for she trusted her doctor with her heart, but she had come to a resolve that she wouldn’t enter a surgery that could potentially kill her without experiencing her first kiss. 

And because she was required to go through surgery, she was now required to have her first kiss.  It was as simple as that and she knew just the guy for the job.  She just had to wait for his usual visit. 

One hour until she could see his face.

One hour until she once again stole her heart.

In the spirit of the impending life-changing (and life threatening) procedure, she figured it was only right that she allow her life to flash before herself—at least until he arrived.

When she was first given the diagnosis of her heart condition, Eunbyul had reacted as a typical young girl would.  Only thirteen in age, she had dreamed of nothing more than being a teenager and seeing her favorite idols live, but all of that was ripped from underneath her when she had an asthma attack during gym class.  At first, no one knew what had triggered it—she had no previous history of suffering from asthma—and so she had mentally waved it off as a one-time occurrence.  Smart for her age, always with her nose in a book, she knew that there was no way she had asthma.  Having gone to the doctor regularly like all other kids her age, there was no indication of any illness.   

She was confident; her parents not so much.

The attack had elicited a reaction never before seen from her parents—the overwhelming look of concern and regret that painted their faces was something that she could remember to this very day.  There were some things that time could never undo, and it seemed that said mentality applied to more than just facial expressions glued to her memory; it also applied to a genetic heart condition that had been dormant for thirteen years.

In the blink of an eye, she had gone from memorizing her favorite dances to memorizing the wallpaper pattern of her hospital room.  The gaudy rose paper did nothing to relieve the anger and despair she had felt those first few months. 

She was furious at her parents for keeping her family’s medical history such a secret from her (though as she realized through reflecting over the past five years, there was really no reason for them to tell her—what could have possibly been gained?).  She was furious over their reactions—it was as if they were expecting her condition to surface one day.  She was furious with the nurses and their stupid fake smiles.

She was furious with herself for being so furious.

She was given a great room with a wonderful view.  The nurses and doctors always told her how lucky she was to get such a room; to her, it just meant that she would be stuck there forever.  The room was a basic square, but outside the large window was a beautiful garden.  Filled with roses and other colorful flowers, it was the garden that had changed her outlook from one of pessimism and self-pity, to one of optimism and adventure. 

She would watch, day in and day out, as patients of all ages would wander past her window, animatedly chatting with their visitors.  At first, it was just seeing their smiling faces—their appreciation of each passing second—that lifted Eunbyul’s spirits.  Having been admitted to the hospital at an age such as hers, she learned all about emotions through watching the actions of others.  She was well acquainted with anger and fear, but as time had passed, she learned love and acceptance through the garden’s visitors.  She felt vicariously through the other patients—the anticipation they felt waiting for their beloved to visit, the pure love they experienced when they simply held hands.  It was not until she was fifteen that she realized she wanted to do more than watch others be in love, she wanted to feel it herself.  It was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to her.

Soon after, she became obsessed with all things that, ironically enough, had to do with the human heart.  From morning until night, she would watch romantic dramas (though she would admit that she avoided the ones that had a hospital setting—it wasn’t fair that fake doctors looked so much better than real ones).  She decorated her hideous room with pictures of her favorite on screen couples.  She even studied the biology and anatomy of the heart.  But if all of the hours of onscreen awkward backhugs and wrist grabbing combined with her knowledge of the four chambers and valves had taught her anything, it was that the human heart, despite its physical fragility and need to be handled with care, was emotionally resilient; all it needed was someone to beat for.

She had never had the chance to really speak to boys.  Her visitors had been limited to her family and close friends—which happened to be girls—so the opportunities never really arose.  The first years that she spent at the hospital at ages thirteen and fourteen, she never had the desire to be around guys.  Besides the fact that she was in her depression stage and honestly just didn’t want to see anyone, regardless of gender, there was also the fact that she was a young girl and she was self-conscious.  Stuck in the hospital during the prime years of image development, she never got the chance to get into wearing make up.  Her skin wasn’t naturally perfect (puberty had been a ) and she looked frail and gaunt (which was, looking back, just a result of her not eating properly). 

When she hit fifteen and had sprung out of her depression and into her current phase of all-things-hearts, she had slowly become more confident with she was, not necessarily on the outside, but on the inside.  Forcing herself to grow up and tackle life head on, things such as flawless skin and eye makeup didn’t matter to her anymore.  Sure, she would love to put it on if she had the chance, but she had become confident in the girl she was.  It was her inner beauty that gave her the confidence to consider talking to boys.  But alas, there were no candidates for her attention.  That was, until, her current doctor had transferred hospitals and instead of following him (her heart was too fragile for the change), she was assigned a new doctor.

Out went wrinkly old Doctor Ahn and in came young and charming Doctor Kim Joonmyun; but even more importantly, new intern Do Kyungsoo came with him.

Doctor Kim was kind and intelligent—a person she had grown to respect and admire.  With a strong set of morals and wisdom far beyond his years, if she had still been in her low points, he certainly would have brought her out of them.  She had immediately taken a liking to him and there was no one she would have trusted her physical heart with more.

But as far as her emotional, metaphorical heart—that belonged to the intern, Kyungsoo.  Always in her bed, Eunbyul wasn’t a good judge of height, but after seeing him interact with others, she would assume it was a modest number.  Rather short herself, she liked to think (to this day) that she would fit nicely in his side.

It was not