The bright lights that welcomed his vision kind of hurts but after a few blinks (one, two, three, ah), it finally managed to adjust and he was soon scanning his surroundings. White wall and a beeping machine were the things that stuck out to him. Also, the smell of blood and death… and oh, is that a boy curled on the couch?

“Excuse me?” his voice cracked, it sounded crispy and dry. He decided he needed to drink some water to ease down his vocal chords so he tried to stretch his arm and grab the bottle on his table but—“What the hell…?!” he was bandaged all over but most of all, he had a broken arm that he can’t seem to actually use.

The ruckus he made woke up the boy on the couch who immediately bolted upright as soon as he saw Sungyeol was awake. Smiling softly, he walked beside him and handed the bottle that he had been aiming for, uncapping it in the process.

“Thanks,” Sungyeol says as the cold liquid managed to fix his earlier problem but only quite, “Err, I’m really confused… who are you? Why am I here? What happened?”

The boy had really small eyes, almost non-existent but it made him look cute somehow and it almost disappeared when he crinkled it at him. Pressing the buzzer, the boy smiled at Sungyeol some more and it calmed him down, at least.

“I’ll explain later, let’s get the doctors to see you first.”

After the doctor and nurse managed to bombard him with questions (“How are you feeling?” “How many fingers am I holding up?” “What color is this?” “Do you know your name?”), they smiled and left with the promise of fast recovery and nothing wrong with him. A week, they promised, a week and he can get his arm working like new again.

“So, they’re gone,” Sungyeol called to the boy who was staring at his phone as if it disrespected him, “Do you think you can manage to explain to me now?”

“Right,” the boy sighed and hid his phone on his front pocket, “I’m Kim Sunggyu.”

“And I’m Lee Sungyeol but I think that’s obvious considering that my name is in huge letters on top of my bed,” he scowled at the boy who managed to give him a weak laugh, “Now that formalities are away, can you please tell me?”

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment and then eyed him as if uncertain. It irked Sungyeol how the boy is contradicting in all ways possible. What was so hard about explaining what happened to him anyway?

“Do you… remember anything?” the boy, or Sunggyu as that’s his name, asked.

“I remember everything,” Sungyeol answered as he felt himself tense, “So you were the boy who saved me, huh? The last thing I remembered was someone screaming and the sound of sirens in the air and then I out.”

“Yes, that was me. I called the police,” Sunggyu paused then added, “and the ambulance. You were beaten up and well…” the last thought trailed in the air, as if he was afraid to speak of it.

“Beaten up and almost ,” Sungyeol finished with a lump on his throat, “I know. Thank you for saving me and bringing me here.”

“You know everything, what exactly are you asking me?” the boy asked as he sat on the stool by the table, “You know I saved you, you know what happened and you know why you’re here in the hospital so what exactly are you asking me? I think, I think I’m the one with the questions.”

Sungyeol stayed silent and stared at Sunggyu.

“Never mind,” Sunggyu shook his head when he realized Sungyeol didn’t seem to actually understand the whole conversation, “do you want me to call your friends?” he took his phone again, flipped it open and frowned. “I’ll call them; I have another friend who’s confined so I’ll check up on him. Will you be fine?”

When Sungyeol didn’t answer but pouted, Sunggyu knows the whole conversation was pointless.

“I’ll call them anyway,” and Sunggyu dialed on his phone as he walked out the room.

--

It was that night