Title: I fell, but you caught me after all

Type: One-shot

Genre: Romance, Angst

-

Seungwan had a habit of catching things. 

Usually, good things. A flying football, a nest falling from a tree, or her baby sister, one memorable time as she fell out of her big crib.

It was instinct to her. She didn’t need to think about it. Her hands acted independently from the rest of her, completely on their own accord.

Her hands, to her were unbearably selfish. They thought very little of consequence. Didn’t they care about the potential pain? Did it matter to them that what they caught might… hurt? 

She was still young the first time she caught a knife that had fallen off the kitchen counter. She caught it, unfortunately by the blade. It sliced into the delicate flesh of her little palms. Her mother saw the blood dripping from her hands and screamed, uncurling her fingers from around the knife. 

She shrieked at Seungwan, her voice shrill with fear and panic.

Why had she held onto it like that? Why did she catch it in the first place? 

Seungwan couldn’t hear her mother because of the pain. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. It hurt so much she didn’t even cry because she couldn’t. Even when her palms were stitched, she couldn’t cry.

All she could do was stare down at her stitched up hand.

* *

The first time Seungwan was with a girl, she didn’t realize what would eventually happen.  

After they had been dating for a while, the girl told her she had been diagnosed with depression. Seungwan took her hands and leaned in close and said: “It’s okay. We’ll get through it together.” 

The girl drew back immediately, leaving Seungwan’s hands startled at the sudden lack of warmth. 

“No,” she said sternly. “Mental illness isn’t some sort of project. It’s something I deal with everyday by myself. It’s something I have to get through by myself because I’m the one suffering through it.” 

Seungwan didn’t immediately understand the concept of alone. The thought of it jolted her down to her very bones, scared her something deep and primal. Joohyun kept looking at the former wearily, expecting her to argue. 

After a long pause, Seungwan spoke. 

“Okay,” She said. “But you know I just want to help, right?” 

Joohyun smiled at her then, grasped Seungwan’s hands in her own. 

“I know you want to help. I appreciate it.” 

Seungwan could only look down and squeeze the latter’s hands in return. 

* *

Seungwan couldn’t not help.

She brought Joohyun boquet of red roses (“Everyone love red roses, right?”). She watched movies with her, she let her cry on her small lap and on her shoulder. She sang songs to Joohyun, cracked lots of jokes to make her laugh. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. 

The lack of responsiveness was infuriating. Was Seungwan doing something wrong? She tried harder, taking her out to different place, booking dinner at restaurants she knew the girl loved but never went to, because Joohyun always claimed she couldn’t afford them. 

Seungwan brought her antidepressants when Joohyun didn’t want to go to the pharmacy. She held her as she fell asleep each night. She was hollow and unresponsive.