White walls. Needles. Transparent tubes. The heart-monitor beeping while all other machines hummed. The smell of medicine and chemicals aded the whole place. I could hear chairs and beds being wheeled around, people moving in hurried footsteps. It was a busy place, alive with billowing white lab coats, calm voices that broke at the seams with panic and worry, yet death hovered very near with the sicknesses and injuries people sustain every single day. It was a dead atmosphere though people try to be as lively as can be, even the sterile floor tiles agreed to it.

I blinked slowly as I folded the linen on my lap, staring out of the window. It was one fine summer day. August has just begun, not even two weeks through the month. The trees were alive with color from where I can see them. The children from their wing were playing at the nearby park. Cars passed by occasionally. The small hospital I was currently in was located at the back of the hill, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. To many, it was a place where they seek refuge for certain ailments and what not, but for some, it was a facility that provides a peaceful transition to something very dreadful.

I looked down on the cloth I had been folding, paying extra attention to the creases as I straightened them out. Behind me, I could clearly hear the bed shifting along with the bleeping sounds coming from the Nintendo DS I bought for the patient in the room for Christmas the previous year, much to his gamer’s heart’s delight. I glanced behind me after I finished folding the third linen in the pile of many more and saw him lying on the bed, propped up on the pillows. Unlike the other days, he didn’t look so pale, nor was he in pain. At a certain point, I felt hope springing to life in me, seeing him up and smiling as he frantically pressed on the buttons of his mini game console. I smiled to myself.

My eyes strayed to the beanie he was wearing, another present I bought him during one of our special days a year and a half ago. He had argued with me a lot about wearing it, but he seemed to need it more than any piece of clothing for the past month. Though it was blistering hot outside, he’d still wear it. It reminded me of the first rounds of his treatments back when we first discovered his illness which wasn’t good at all since I’ve watched as he bled through his nose profusely. When he had the treatment, I remembered crying my eyes out after he began shedding his hair which was all but gone at the moment. I’ve always loved how his hair fell and shined under the sun, brown and smooth or how it would look like whenever he just woke up. I won’t see that again.

My eyes then travelled down to his hands and arms, once so pretty yet now, they looked spindly. It was the first time I would see his bare arms for a long time since he fell ill. He never wanted anyone else to see how he looked like. He’d become thinner and thinner though the doctors have been trying to boost his diet, but it was of no use. He always didn’t have the appetite. At first, we thought he just didn’t want to eat his meals because they’re from the hospital, but even when we buy him food from outside, he could barely finish half of every serving. Now there he was, looking fragile even as he happily played and munched on the cookies I made for him that morning before coming to the hospital.

It hurts me to see him like that and many times, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and never get up again, but he was my motivation to wake up every morning though it’s too painful already. The way he looked, no matter how much he claimed that he was feeling fine, wrenched at the pits of my soul, dousing it cold and without hope. Hope was dead. Treatments weren’t working for him. He was too weak to go under another operation. Nothing’s working and all of the people who ever knew and loved him could do nothing but wait until the time’s come. Many times, I just wanted to cry because of the helplessness of the situation, but I knew how much he hated seeing me cry so I just lock it all in.

I turned away from him and continued folding the linen, angling myself towards the window so that he wouldn’t see my face if ever he would look at me. As I was folding the fifth one, I saw my own tears fall into the cloth, staining it. I blinked them back in, the back of my throat hurting like hell as I kept the sobs from coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it. How can I when I knew that the person I loved the most was hurting? How can I when I knew that he was slowly slipping away from me no matter how tightly I try to hold on to him? It was beyond comprehension and words how bad it feels to know that there would come a day, soon, that I would wake up in the morning knowing that I wouldn’t see him – my childhood best friend, my boy friend since first grade in high school, my Oh Sehun.

Every single day, it gets harder to picture him as he was, seeing him deteriorate rapidly. The dark rings under his eyes, his cheekbones protruding more prominently, the sickly smile he would flash each time he could manage to – all of those just reminded me of the impending loss, the grief. I knew how hard it must be for him being in constant pain, always knocked out with pain killers and how resting was the only solution there is, but never a day goes by that I wish he’d stay stronger, for me, for his family, for himself. I still wanted to see him fulfill his dreams. He was still too young, at his prime, not even twenty and it was so unfair.

I didn’t know what it would do to me once he’s gone. Everyday, before I go home, we would talk and ever time, I would feel him giving me hints that he was saying goodbye to me just in case. There’s always that phrase. ‘Just in case.’ I’ve begun to hate it. He would tell me where he put some of the things that were important to him. He’d tell me to always take care of our pet dog, Koi. He reminds me to eat and enjoy bubble tea and pizza every Wednesday like we always do. How can I do that after he leaves me? I guess I wouldn’t want to do those things after he’s gone. He’d given me the passwords to all his Internet accounts which was my name and he’d always smile his brightest like it would always be the last time I’d see him do it.

It tore at my heart, burnt me alive and the pain never ceases. Every evening, I cry myself to sleep, constantly worrying, wondering what a new day would bring me, hoping it wouldn’t be the bad news, wishing it would be better for him. Every day, while doing my daily routine, I would think of ways to do to at least make him happy during his remaining days and I’d always ask him how he feels after. Every day, I put my utmost effort to make sure that he was comfortable, that he wasn’t sad or anything, that he was having the best time. It was why I always bring him out for afternoon walks. It’s why I always tell him how much I loved him. The cycle would repeat itself with another sunrise and a sunset after that. He had insisted on the walks and the outings and he’d always rest so he would have the energy for it the next day. When I watch him sleep, there was always the dreadful thought of whether he’d wake up again or not. Before, he went on a coma and miraculously woke up three days before his parents were ready to give up and that had taken it’s toll on me. When he sleeps, his breaths were so shallow that I was afraid his body would just give up. I was afraid. Always afraid.

The sound of his game console stopped and it brought me back from my reverie. Then he spoke. “Baby doll?” he asked in that husky voice.

That was the nickname he gave me the first time he saw me wear makeup. “Yes?” I said as steadily as I could.

The bed shifted. “What are you doing?”

I glanced at him briefly. “Folding some linen.” I tried to look as composed as I could as I faced him. “Are you ready to go?” I asked, standing and nearing his bed.

He smiled at me, but I didn’t fail to see the sadness in his sunken eyes. “No. The hyungs are coming in a while. I’d like to see them before we go.”

I fought to urge to just hug him tightly. Instead, I sat down, taking his hand in mine. “Are you cold? Your hands are cold.” I laughed slightly. “You didn’t stick it in the fridge, did you?”

He pouted. “Daydreaming about holding Edward Cullen’s hand again?” He chuckled and straightened up with herculean effort. Why did he have to act as if everything’s fine anyway? I would have had taken it better if he’d tell me how he really felt instead of pretending that he was going to be alright.

“No, I’m not. I’d still choose you even if he comes after me.”

He smiled. “That’s good to know.”

“How was school today?”

I laughed at that. “You have to ask? Everyone’s the same, Mr. Jang’s being a pain and everyone’s whining about homework.” I looked at him then. “Our classmates asked me about you and they were all hoping that they’d get to see you back in school again. Wouldn’t that be fun?” I answered them all as if it was going to happen and smiled my best.

He leaned against my shoulder and sighed heavily. “Hye Ri-ah?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me one thing.”

I frowned, angling my face away from him. “Anything,” I said shakily.

He took my hand in his, squeezing it as tightly as his fragile hands could. “Look at me please.”

I forced myself to, smiling as he leaned his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes and I found myself doing the same. “What is it, Sehun?”

“Promise me that you won’t ever forget how much I love you and you’ll live happily.” He opened his eyes and I nodded, holding back tears. “Pinky promise?”

I nodded, holding my pinky up. “Pinky promise.”

“Good. I don’t have to worry then.” He smiled, leaning on his pillow with a contented smile.

“Sehun-ah…”

“Yes?”

Before I could say anything, there was a knock on the door though it was open. I looked up and saw Lu Han oppa standing there. He smiled at me then entered the room, walking to the other side of the bed. “Hey, buddy!” he greeted, glancing at me. “How are you holding up?”

Sehun smiled back with a weak wave. “Great. Where are the others?”

“Coming.”

I gave his hand a light squeeze and stood up from the bed. “I’ll just go grab coffee. Do you guys want anything?”

Lu Han looked at me meaningfully then shook his head and smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks anyway.”

“I’m fine, too,” Sehun told me.

I nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll be back in a while.”

I exited the room, but instead of going where I said I would, I just stood outside the door, leaning against the wall.

“So…” Lu Han oppa began, but Sehun didn’t let him finish.

“We’re not having this talk.”

“How are you fairing, really?” the older one asked as if he didn’t say anything.

“I’m used to it by now.” There was a