Warning: descriptions of blood

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About two weeks after waking up from his coma, Jihoon finds himself in a car next to his so-called 'boyfriend'. Since he had nowhere else to stay, and no one else left to stay with, he was going to live with this Seungcheol guy. Apparently, after Jihoon was admitted to the hospital, Seungcheol had signed up as his guardian and payed all the hospital bills, coming to stay by his sleeping form as often as he could. Jihoon found it hard to believe, mostly because he didn't trust that this stranger was actually his boyfriend yet. The whole car was filled with heavy silence, until it was finally broken.

 "I hope you have two bedrooms, cause I'm not planning on sleeping in the same bed as a stranger." Jihoon stated. He knew it sounded harsh, and he saw how his words hurt the other boy, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. He was too busy being confused and scared about not knowing anything. He felt like couldn't trust anything or anyone. Not knowing can be really scary.

"You already know this by now, but I'm your boyfriend. We've slept in the same bed before." Seungcheol answered, with a hint of sadness in his voice. For a long time now he had been trying to stay strong, but hearing Jihoon calling him a stranger time and time again since he woke up, destroyed his heart to the point where keeping it inside would make it even worse.

"But I can't remember that. For all I know, you could be the one who killed my parents and put me in a coma." Jihoon muttered, immediately regretting it as he saw a tear slowly trail down Seungcheols cheek.

**********

They had parked the car in the underground parking lot of an apartment building. Seungcheol went to the back of the car and lifted out a wheelchair, before opening Jihoons door, grabbing him, and carrying him out of the car bridal style. Pink flushed Jihoons cheeks as he was carried to his wheelchair, and gently put down by strong arms. It felt weird to be touched by the other boy, but it also felt familiar and natural. He shook his head to get rid of his thoughts when Seungcheol started pushing him towards the elevator.

After a painfully long time in the elevator, filled with silence once again, they finally reached the 9th floor, and continued towards where he would now be living.

As soon as the front door was opened he suddenly realised how Seungcheol had been able to pay for hospital bills for so long. This man is rich I tell you. The apartment was big and open, with many shelves pressed into the walls, decorated with beautiful vases, pictures, and books. A comfortable looking couch in a corner, bombarded with expensive looking pillows and carpets, and a tv that looked more like a cinema screen in front of it. In the other corner, to the right, there was a kitchen, a dream kitchen for anyone who liked to make food. There were mostly red, white, black and some creamish colours in the apartment. Jihoons eyes wandered across the room a few times before landing on a shelf to the left, next to the door. Rolling over to the shelf he noticed all the picture frames that was neatly positioned at the top. Upon inspecting the pictures, Jihoon found that all of them were of him and Seungcheol. They were posing cutely, making hearts and smiling so much it looks almost painful. The background of the pictures where places like an amusement park, a café, there was even in front of the Eiffel Tower. Lastly there was a picture of them cuddling on the sofa of this very apartment.

"So it was true then..." Jihoon said quietly, almost in a whisper. The love and fondness in these pictures were the kind that not even the best actors could display. This was true love, and the guilt from earlier that day only intensified.

"You believe me now?" Seungcheol whispered back. He had come over to his side, without Jihoon noticing, and was now leaning over to look at the pictures as well, his warm breath tickling Jihoons neck. He shuddered at little and felt his cheeks heat up, before answering.

"I guess so..." 

They stood there like that for a minute in comfortable silence (for once), before Seungcheol pushed the wheelchair toward the couch. Jihoon lifted himself out of the wheelchair and onto the couch, tilted his head back, and just relaxed. He could hear the only other person in the room doing something, but he just ignored it and closed his eyes, slowly falling into an abyss of not sleeping, not being awake, not thinking, just enjoying the feeling of being alive.

********

Okay, so maybe he did fall asleep, but he was soon woken up by a delicious smell filling the room, making him completely awake . Driven by the newfound power, he got up into the wheelchair again and rolled over to the kitchen. Seungcheol was making something, but from where Jihoon was sitting he couldn't see what. It was kind of irritating, honestly. He was already a lot shorter than Seungcheol to begin with, and when he had to sit in a freaking wheelchair for maybe a month? Seungcheol looked like a giant, either that or Jihoon felt like a midget, but he would rather admit to the first one.

"What are you making?"  He asked, getting a little impatient, wanting taste whatever had that heavenly smell.

Seungcheol looked down at Jihoon. The way his eyes were shining in anticipation reminded him of a dog waiting for his treat. Only the dog ears and a wagging tail was missing.

"You'll see" he said with a tiny smirk, trying not to giggle at the adorable imagination of the smaller boy he just had.

*********

It ended up being a very late dinner, but Jihoon didn't care at all. After being in a coma for two years, and having to eat hospital food the past two weeks, the fried rice Seungcheol made tasted like it was made straight out of heaven. It tasted better than the best fried rice in the world, at least in Jihoons opinion (not that he had ever tasted the best fried rice in the world, but who cares).

Apparently there was two bedrooms there, so after dinner they both prepared themselves for bed. Jihoon was sitting on the edge of his bed, taking of his grey sweater, already in his pyjama pants (don't ask how got them on). He threw the sweater to a corner in the dimly lit room, and looked at himself in the mirror on the wall in front of him. His eyes immediately landed on the ugly scars on his stomach. One of them was on his left side, and was obviously a stab wound. The other one he didn't know what could have happened for him to get it. It was a long, but thick, line stretching from his belly button and almost reaching his right shoulder.

While looking at his scars, Jihoon felt like they still hurt, even if they were healed long ago. Suddenly feeling lightheaded and drowsy, he lay down on the bed, with the afterimage of his hurting scars still in mind.

**********

Jihoon quickly opened his eyes as his left side suddenly hurt a hundred times more than when he had fallen asleep. It felt like he had just been stabbed. Confused at the sudden pain he looked around, and found that he was laying on his stomach on the ground in a house he had never seen before. He moved one of his hands to clutch at his stomach. Some thick and warm liquid was oozing out of where his scar used to be. He looked down on the floor he was laying on. Ah, so it was blood... He was laying in a quickly expanding pool of dark red blood. His breathing was getting more and more out of control, and cold sweat was forming on his whole body. Like it had its own will, his other arm stretched out and grabbed onto some sort of fabric. He looked forward, his face scrunched up in pain. He had grabbed onto the pants of a person standing in front of him. He couldn't lift his head enough to see who it was. His mouth opened on its own, "why...?" A weak voice came out of him.

Something warm and transparent was dripping on his arm and on the floor. It was tears... but who would be crying after killing someone?