Chapter 6

An hour later, my phone rang, making us jump.

"Naekkeo haja, naega neol saranghae, eo? Naega neol..."

It was the ringtone I'd set for your phone number. 

"Pick up the phone," Sungjong said, his tears coming to a stop.

A hopeful look was stamped on his angelic face as he sat up, roughly scrubbing at his cheeks to mop up the tears.

"Noona might be alright, and she's calling you!"

He wasn't that naive.

I could tell that he was trying to fool himself.

Biting my lip, I picked up the phone. "Hello? Kim Myungsoo speaking."

A deep voice was on the other line.

"Kim-sshi, are you related to a Choi _____? Your number was the last one she called."

Trying to keep my voice from shaking, I nodded.

"I'm good friends with her. Me and my brothers."

A long pause. Then...

"This is Dr. Song from Severance Hospital. She's... not looking too well."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep my tears from falling.

"Y-yes, I understand..."

Dr. Song started rambling about your condition.

"We've got the major wounds taken care of, most of the internal ones, anyways."

"...treated the broken bones and fractures."

"...brain trauma... might not make it..."

"She's awake now, though, and was asking for you. Would you like to visit her? Just in case?"

I sat there silently, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Sungkyu took the phone from me then.

"Yes, we'll be over there shortly. Please ask her to wait for us."

We closed the shop down for the rest of the day, and sped over to the hospital.

Reporters were waiting just inside the lobby, and I felt a surge of anger come over me.

Vultures, scavengers.

Using you as a front-page material, wanting to boost their ratings.

Selfish bastards, every one of them.

I took a step towards one of the reporters...

I don't know what I would've done if Sungyeol hadn't grabbed my elbow.

"Come on, Myungie, leave them. ______'s waiting for us."

It was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough.

THAT statement went over like a brick parachute with all the reporters within earshot.

Seven relatively good-looking young men, going to visit their front-page star?

Wasn't she married? Were we her cousins or something?

Perhaps she was dating one of us on the sly.

This was going to be the scandal of the year, if not the decade.

They descended on us like hyenas on a wounded gazelle...

Luckily, a doctor stepped out of the elevator just as the microphones and cameras were being shoved in our faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I have an update on Ms. ______."

This must've been Dr. Song, judging from his deep voice.

Like sharks drawn to a bleeding dolphin, the reporters converged on the doctor.

A nurse silently came up behind us, speaking in low tones.

"Follow me, please. You must be here for young Mrs. Choi."

We all nodded, and she sighed, leading us down the hallway.

"You should've been told to use the back door. Anyone coming in the front is automatically denied access."

We arrived at the elevators, and the nurse pressed the button to go up.

"She's in the ICU. Ward 307."

"I must warn you... she doesn't look anything like what you may be used to."

We all nodded. Sungjong looked to be on the verge of tears again.

The nurse sighed. "Poor girl, this must be the worst Valentine's Day she's ever had."

She looked around quietly, then mumbled something under her breath.

Probably thought we couldn't hear her, but we did.

Even the most professional of us need to vent.

"They'd better lock her husband up and throw away the key for what he did to her."

We soon arrived at the ICU floor. 

It smelled like antiseptics and death.

Sunggyu, being the strongest one out of all of us, soon found your room.

A nurse was inside, and nodded when we stated our names and business.

"You can see her," she said. "Take as long as you like. She's pretty heavily medicated now, for the pain."

A slight pause as she listened to the soft chirping of the machines.

"No excitement for her, though. It might really do some damage."

We nodded and she left the room, closing the door behind her to give us some privacy.

Your bed had a curtain drawn around it. Dark green with silver stripes.

Your favorite colors, I remember.

You were so... tiny, lying in that huge bed.

You were half-sitting up... probably to keep pressure off your chest.

Nearly every square inch of skin was covered up by something.

Casts, bandages, tubes, tape, gauze...

A machine measured your heartbeat, making it audible in soft chirps.

Beep... beep... beep... beep...

Your face was the only thing that wasn't covered up.

Even then, there was an oxygen tube taped under your nose.

Your head was wrapped in a white bandage, the silver of the butterfly clip glinting under the soft lamplight.

Your eyes were closed, and there was a purple bruise covering one cheek.

You were still beautiful, though.

A broken Sleeping Beauty.

My brothers pushed me towards the bed, and I sat down in the chair next to you.

The rest of them pulled up chairs or sat on the little sofa near your window.

I carefully took your hand - it was so frail and fragile, like a little bird.

After a few false starts, I spoke up.

"_____-ah... Are you awake?"

After a few seconds, your eyes fluttered open.

It took you a few seconds to recognize me, as drugged as you were.

When you did, your eyes lit up and the haziness cleared away.

You smiled fondly, and a pang went through my heart.

It was almost like we were all back at INFINITE LOVE working and laughing together.

"L-oppa... m-mianhae."

You looked around at the rest of them, and smiled weakly.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but we could all hear you.

"Mianhae, INFINITE oppas. Mianhae, Sungjongie."

This made Sungjong blink hard, and you shook your head, smiling softly.

"Sungjongie, c'mere..."

He trudged over to your bedside, and you gestured to the side of your bed.

"Sit down."

He did so, and you patted his arm.

"Are you strong, Sungjongie? If you cry, it makes me want to cry too."

He nodded quickly, rubbing his eyes hard.

"I want you... to take care of your hyungs for me... got it?

"Keep... an eye on them... for me."

A look of horror was stamped on all our faces, and you just laughed softly.

"Relax... I'm not planning on... dying anytime soon, I'm just... not gonna be back at INFINITE for a while."

Your words were slightly slurred and obviously took a great deal of effort to get out, but you managed.

Smiling, you ruffled Sungjong's hair.

That small gesture made tears well up in his eyes, and he started crying again.

Do you remember what you did next, ______?

You pulled him down to lie next to you on the bed - there was more than enough room.

He curled into your side and sobbed his heart out into the blankets.

You rubbed his back and his hair, murmuring soothing words the whole time.

After a few minutes, the maknae composed himself enough to sit up and wipe the tears from his eyes.

You smiled gently, and rubbed his arm.

"It's all right, Sungjongie. All right."

You turned to me next, beckoning me closer.

When I got close enough, you pecked me on the cheek and sat back, smiling.

Gently, so gently, I leaned forward and kissed your lips.

They were soft and warm, and still tasted faintly of cinnamon.

It was the barest of brushes, but it was enough.

A pink blush swept over your face, and I smiled.

B-beep... B-beep...

I didn't stop there.

I trailed butterfly kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose...

Your soft giggles made my heart so much lighter.

I was gently caressing your cheek when HE came in.

Your husband.

The one who put you in here in the first place.