Four months.

It’s been four months now and Kim Sunggyu still doesn’t believe how he’d managed to survive up till this point. He doesn’t know and doesn’t understand how, but somehow and someway, by an odd chance that he honestly is unsure where it had even come from, it’s already been four months since he lost his first ever patient, his sweet little boy and yeah, Sunggyu is doing fine.

Well, as fine as he can be, to be honest.

It isn’t to say that he’s perfectly fine now and is finally moving on with his life, but he’s not as bad as he first thought he would be, at that time when he was watching Sunwoo’s ash riding the breeze of the sea. He’s not great yet, but he’s there. And he’ll be fine soon. Woohyun, Howon and Dongwoo had always been there with him— Dongwoo will always be waiting at his house ready with his fresh home-cooked meal, Howon is always at his side every step of the way whenever he has his little moments of breaking down at the hospital and Woohyun, although far away across the ocean, always calls him in the strangest hours, either to soothe Sunggyu’s sorrow away or to mourn of their lost himself. And that’s fine. It shows that Sunwoo matters just as much to Woohyun as he is to Sunggyu. He’s more than fine for that.

Now, if only Myungsoo will stop avoiding him, then Sunggyu thinks he will probably be as fine as he can get.

Sunggyu knew he’d promised the young boy a secret, had promised to reveal it as soon as he could, but work still calls for him despite all the mourning he still had left to do, and he had so little time to even spare for himself. He couldn’t seem to find a even a little bit more time to spare for the secret he’s preparing for Myungsoo.

He feels so much like a jerk, a bad friend, a useless family but being a doctor means sacrifices, and these sacrifices sometimes feels so unfair because it is costing him so, so much. But he’s a doctor now and it’s a cost he’s willing to pay to achieve what he’s wanted to do ever since he’d lost his younger brother many, many years ago.

So as the promise of a secret was delayed for a day, then another day, then weeks, Myungsoo seemed to take the delay wrongly and he began refusing to see Sunggyu anymore. The elder male had tried to reach out to Myungsoo a month after Sunwoo’s funeral, the secret perched in his briefcase, but the carer in his orphanage told him that Myungsoo was out in a full day outing with his friends. Sunggyu nodded and told her that he would come by again soon.

And ‘soon’ became later, so much later because there was just so much work to do, and the next time Sunggyu went to see him a week or so after, he was again told that Myungsoo was out, extra classes apparently a requirement until exam season was over. From thereon, Sunggyu went every week to seek for the young boy, but always, always, he was sent home with disappointment, growing restless over the fact that Myungsoo seemed to be avoiding him for some reason.

Because Kim Myungsoo had never ever refused to see him before. He’d been busy before, busy with his studies, with Sunwoo, with musical classes but he’d always find time for the elder. When Sunggyu was too busy to come by, Myungsoo would seek him out even if he would have to use Sunwoo’s hospital admission as another lame excuse to see him. So Sunggyu knows when he’s being avoided albeit finding out a little too late now because it’s been four months now.

Four months of not seeing and talking to his little boy and dear lord, saying that he just simply missed Myungsoo would’ve won him the biggest award of understatement ever because he more than just miss him. He’s actually developing withdrawal symptoms now—restless, anxious, dread, palpitating– because what if he’d lost Myungsoo too?

Maybe he’s not losing him the way he’d lost Sunwoo, but it’s a loss all the same because it almost feels like Myungsoo doesn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. And it’s equally scary and equally painful to think so.

He’d told both Howon and Woohyun about it, told them that Myungsoo seemed to be avoiding them for a reason, but all he gained from their conversations was heartaches. Because Myungsoo doesn’t seem to do the same to the others. It’s only Sunggyu he’s avoiding actively and damn, it hurts a little too much and just as much.

So he decided to try again.

He has finally gotten himself a three days break from work and he plans to use all his time to make this right, whatever it is that has gone wrong in the first place. So Sunggyu goes to the orphanage again, on a weekday, standing just outside the gate and wait for the younger to come home from school. It’s a little around twenty-two minutes of waiting when Sunggyu finally catches sight of the young boy turning the corner just ahead of him—eyes downcast, face pale and figure a little too thin since the last time he’d seen the boy. Four months ago. God.

“Myungsoo!” Sunggyu calls loudly, voice cracking a little from overuse, or maybe from the nervous lilt he seems to be growing now that he’s finally looking into those deep, dark orbs. The call startles the younger, or maybe he’s not expecting to see Sunggyu there at this time of the day, or he just doesn’t think that he’ll ever have to see the elder again after all the rejections he’s done, but his eyes widen and he stops walking at the sight of Sunggyu, barely meters away.

“Hyung,” he all but hears the whisper and it sounds so broken. Why does he sound so broken? Is it Sunwoo? Is it him? Does he hate Sunggyu now? Does he not want to see him anymore? It hurts to think that the answers may be a yes, but he needs to do this, need to tell him this and then, Myungsoo can reject him all he wants and Sunggyu will respect his decision nonetheless.

“Myungsoo, Myungie, can we talk?” Sunggyu starts when it seems like the younger isn’t going to say or do anything. The question seems to bring all sorts of things from nothing to something because Myungsoo’s face hardens at the question and it’s the first time he’s seen so much anger from the younger and it’s directed towards him.

“No,” is the answer he receives, “I’m busy.” He continues after a brief while, being polite despite all the tension he seems to gather in his smaller frame.

“Myungsoo, please,” Sunggyu cries out, stepping closer to reach out, only to feel a harsh stab to his heart when Myungsoo takes another back in response.

“Hyung, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to see you. Can’t you understand that from all the refusals I’ve given you?” God, Myungsoo’s words are so harsh yet they aren’t even wrong. He does understand how much he’s unwanted now but he wants to try. He’s willing to try again if it means Myungsoo will listen to him.

“I know. I get it now, but please, can we just talk for a while? I want to tell you something and I’ll disappear afterwards if you still want me to.”

“No. I don’t want to hear anything from you, hyung.”

“Please, Myungsoo. I just need to tell you—”

“Tell me what, hyung? That you’ve always wanted to take Sunwoo away from me, from us? That it’s been your plan all along to adopt him and take him away? That you’ve never even talked to us before deciding that you’re going to steal him away?”

Myungsoo takes a long, deep breath and releases it harshly before he actually continues, doesn’t even let a second up for Sunggyu to digest, to interrupt.

“I really don’t want to know, hyung. Sunwoo is gone anyway. Whatever adoption you’ve done for him, he’s still not going to be here. He’s still dead. And I’m going to fight for his adoption right once I’m legal enough to do so. I’m not letting you have him even if he’s gone, hyung. Never