Chapter 17:

A week was a long time to be trapped in a bed.

I uncomfortably sat, fixating my eyes on things that didn’t matter.

Jongin hadn’t called me yet.

He hadn’t visited.

I knew something must’ve been wrong because there was no sign, no warning sign. In fact, I dealt with my parents calling me at least four times a day and a psychotic five year old child who had some strange with coming into my room and staring at me, all for Jongin.

Being in the hospital was exactly his doing. I knew it was probably a good thing I was there. To be quite honest, I would most likely be deathly sick if it weren’t for him.

But he hadn’t come back yet.

And I was worried.

Outside my window, fresh snow plummeted, falling from the sky as if it were ash, striking a caution before a war. Like a threat.

I felt my eyebrows furrow and a kind of sickness swell my heart. It was not the pneumonia and it was not anything I’d experienced before.

It seemed as if there was an obscurity or darkness emerging with hasty growth that I couldn’t contain. It was like a poisonous miasma, intoxicating the air from which I breathed.

As if my lungs weren’t going through enough.

I could only look forward to Chanyeol or Baekhyun coming to visit me and delighting me with some sort of edible object. Just their presence in general lit up a room and improved dampened moods.

Even Maggie Ann showed up herself with some homemade coffee (which was much better than I thought).

But where was Jongin?

I wasn’t even mad. I wasn’t disappointed. I was worried.

Something drove him out the door so quickly and that frightened me. Whatever I said, whoever I was talking about, he definitely knew something, something that I didn’t.

I so desperately wanted to know, but also at the same time didn’t. I trusted Jongin and the look that possessed his eyes spoke to me.

He didn’t want me to know about this. He wanted me to sit in the hospital and not worry. But I was worried.

I was worried out of my ing mind.

Whether I was vexed, simply concerned or just apprehensive, it didn’t matter. My entire body tensed when I thought of the way Jongin appeared as he left out the door.

It wasn’t broken or defeated. It was anxious. It was hesitant.

I released a heavy breath and curled my fingers around my phone, picking it up.

Jongin still hadn’t called me nor responded to my text. It was like his presence was completely wiped. I considered calling his father but refrained from doing so after reminding myself more than once of how awkward that would be.

“So you don’t know where he is?” Chanyeol questioned after I finally decided to tell him about Jongin’s sudden disappearance.

“Not exactly,” I remarked. “I might have an inkling but then again, I might not.”

Chanyeol whistled out a breath while he proceeded to cut up some fruit for me, which I insisted not to because I was perfectly capable of doing so (and was maybe afraid that his klutziness might result in him being condemned to a hospital bed also).

“He’s smart though,” Chanyeol countered. “So we know he’s not going to do anything ridiculously stupid.”

“Yeah but he’s also dense,” I argued stubbornly, snatching a slice of orange and tossing it into my mouth carelessly.

Chanyeol stopped cutting and stared at me, judgingly.

“What?” I wondered, the orange shifting in my mouth before I chomped down on it.

“Says the densest ing person on the planet,” Chanyeol replied.

I crossed my arms, slightly annoyed. How the hell was I dense? I saw things for what they were. I took in all details. Dense was not a word to describe me.

“How the hell am I dense?” I retorted, glaring at him with an expression that possessed daggers.

Chanyeol stared at me for another few seconds before continuing to cut.

“It took you forever to realize that Jongin liked you,” Chanyeol pointed out.

My face turned slightly red. I only truly realized that night when he was a bit forward with his actions.

“What are you talking about?” I grunted. “He used to hate me.”

Chanyeol shook his head in protest.

“Not for long,” he informed me. “I don’t know if you noticed but he was looking after you for quite some time.”

“No,” I muttered …

“Yeah,” Chanyeol continued. “You don’t even know. The moment anyone bad mouthed you, his was right in their face.”

I situated my weight unevenly.

“Okay, so…”

“And he agreed to sit with you and allow you to make friends with him. He liked you at least as a friend from the beginning.”

I leaned back, allowing Chanyeol’s information to fully absorb. It was a bit much so I stuffed another piece of fruit into my mouth, chewing loudly.

Chanyeol’s words were causing me to feel undeniably guilty for some unknown reason. I felt like I had to do something about it.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” I changed the subject.

Chanyeol smirked because he knew what I was doing but answered me nonetheless.

“He’s practicing,” he remarked. “Don’t think just because you’re sick, Do Kyungsoo, that you can skip out on the talent show next week.”

I groaned.

“Ugh, I’ll be released in a few days,” I said. “I don’t want to practice.”

“So you got it down?” Chanyeol laughed.

“Maybe I do!” I snapped at him.

“I was going to have Baekhyun come so he could practice with you but he said you’d want to rest,” Chanyeol told me.

“Yeah,” I replied laughing. “I want to rest.”

I didn’t even call Jongin’s dad. He came in anyway.

“O-Oh, hey Mr. Kim,” I awkwardly greeted.

“Kyungsoo,” he walked in and set a few things on the table by my bed. “I picked up some things. I thought that you might get bored.”

I tried not to blink while staring at him but I was utterly confused.

His appearance was much less gruff than normal and he looked rather decent, despite that look in his eyes that never ceased.

“What’s this?” I picked up a book that was underneath a small package of popcorn.

“That’s Jongin’s old yearbook,” his father informed me. “I figured you would get a kick out of how young he looked.”

A bubbly feeling filled me and I almost wanted to giggle like a school girl. Finally, something that I could use to make fun of Jongin as a form of getting back at him for kissing me (not that I minded).

“Thank you,” I answered, uncomfortably bowing while sitting. “But Mr. Kim, do you know where Jongin is?”

The man paused.

“He said he was visiting an old friend. Have you not seen him since last week?” He remarked.

I shook my head.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said. “Just wondering.”

It was when Jongin’s dad left when I opened up the yearbook, preparing to squeal.

I glanced at the date on the cover and felt a chill ripple throughout my body. It was dated back two years ago, when Jongin was in eighth grade.

I felt neither joy nor a giddy feeling when opening the book now.

I traced my fingers over the first page before I flipped to the next page. Something unsettling consumed my body, involuntary tremors waving through.

There were no marks or signs of edits that Jongin could’ve possibly added in. He kept the book clean. I wondered if he even used it.

When I found his face, the serious expression that overwhelmed is face made me blink. He was so emotionless. If I thought he didn’t care about anything before, that was nothing compared to the picture.

“Oh god,” I uttered, staring at it.

I flipped a few pages.

Flipped some more.

One more.

And then it seemed as if my heart stopped. Something inside of me lurched and I had the sudden notion to puke and my eyes widened in fear.

I stared at the image of the boy from before. The one who I told Jongin about. With the crooked teeth.

Jongin knew him. He went to the school Jongin did two years ago.

And I suddenly knew what Jongin was going to do. He was going to find him. He was going to do something. But deep down, I was less worried about what Jongin was going to do and more worried about what was going to happen to him.

He was in danger.

I thrashed off the covers and bolted upwards. A sudden wave of nausea hit me like a gust of fiery wind and I almost fell back down and gave up but determination won the internal battle.

I was poised and ready to run but I ended up tip-toeing to the door and peering outside to get a look. They definitely weren’t going to let me out. I didn’t want to leave either but my gut told me I had to. This wasn’t going to be neither healthy nor smart but I decided to it all.

I would never live with myself if something happened to Jongin.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered to myself.

I slipped out the door when the coast was clear, fully aware that I was still in my hospital gown. I tried to take the path less taken and was able to walk to the lobby without being questioned.

“Kyungsoo,” a voice stopped me in my tracks.

I turned around, forcing a smile, secretly pissed.

“Yes?” I answered the nurse.

“I was just going to give you your medicine,” she informed me.

“Oh, I was going to go outside for a fresh breath of air,” I informed her.

She glanced at me skeptically.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “You’re still sick and being exposed to the cold is especially bad for patients with pneumonia.”

I decided to laugh it off.

“Ah, don’t worry,” I urged. “It’ll be only a few minutes. I’m feeling a bit light headed.”

I hoped that she didn’t question why I was carrying my phone or sweating bullet but she held up the bottle of pills and smiled.

“Okay,” she agreed. “These’ll be on your table for when you get back. Don’t forget to take them.”

More doubt filled me as she left to the elevator.

It only reminded me of how stupid I was being. But I didn’t care.

Because once I got outside, I bolted.

The wind hit my face along with the snow filtering down and my lungs felt suffocated in the lack of heat. My feet felt frozen because of the shoes I didn’t have. This was such a bad idea. But the feeling in my gut, the awful feeling that something terrible was going to happen didn’t leave.

I was aware of how crazy I must’ve looked wearing a hospital gown, with no shoes, running like crazy, panting like a rabid dog and nearly crying.

I was trying to think of who to call but no one came to mind. Jongin wouldn’t answer. Baekhyun and Chanyeol would force me back into bed. Tao would probably start to cry and not even know what to do.

Maggie Ann…we weren’t even going to go there.

I stopped, halting as a wave of snow hit me in the face and ran my hands through my hair, feeling more stressed than ever.

“Think Kyungsoo,” I muttered. “Where would Jongin be? Where would he be?”

I could only think of his old school but I knew he probably wouldn’t be there.

First, I decided to head to my apartment and change into warmer clothes. That was the most important thing. And then I had to take a bus. Take a train. Just ing find Kim Jongin.

“Why am I even doing this?” I muttered.

I guess maybe I loved him.

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A/N: Short and awful and aofsdoinfsiodnf. I didn’t update last week because I had to go to a church retreat last week. Ugh. Friday to Sunday afternoon. And well everything was just FINE and DANDY until they started talking about gay people and I’m sitting there like oh god I can’t say a ing thing unless I wanna die. Haha. Yeah. So review. Plot is just asdaoisdjaisfjiojad. Yeah, I’ll have a better update next cuz it’ll be thanksgiving weekend!