With wobbly legs Hana stumbled into the hospital. Her breathing was irregular and stagnant. Her view was the purest chaos as her tumbling thoughts took up the majority of her awareness, leaving her back as a confused and crazed person running all the way from the bus station to the hospital.

Her mind was filled with one name: Luhan.

One name and the seemingly endless flood of scenarios and imaginary realities that were worrying her to no end. Hana had to deal with all that, and honestly, she felt unable to deal with it.

When Hana arrived in front of the reception, she was panting so much and so hard that it felt as if her lungs were being crushed. Her hair was shaggily falling into her face while she stared at the receptionist with wide eyes.

“Can I … visit … Luhan?” It was wondrous that she managed to get those words relatively understandable across between her heavy breaths.

Having recognized that it was Hana, the receptionist gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, Miss Jung. The visiting time is over and Mr. Lu is currently resting. His condition is quite bad.”

The frustration that was rushing through her body caused Hana to let out a silent groan before she gripped the edge of the desk to calm down. In all honesty, she was ready to break down, cry and make a huge scene if she wasn't allowed to see Luhan today. It didn't matter if she'd be brought to the mental wing again or worse: taken to the police station for rioting. Nothing mattered besides Luhan being here in this ing hospital in a critical condition.

It would be ridiculously childish, indeed. But what else was she supposed to do? She'd never be able to just leave the hospital and proceed with her day normally and wait for the visiting hours tomorrow to begin. In fact, who would? Was there a single human who'd be able to ignore every spark of panic, every wave of worry and the flood of hysteria during a situation like this?

For Hana, one thing was for sure: she couldn't. She couldn't just push all those emotions to the back of her mind and act as if nothing happened. Because at the moment when Hana was told those two things, something inside her broke. It was the already crumbly clock that she'd been hearing for so long already. It was the hour hand of that clock. And with that breaking, there weren't hours left anymore until time would be up.

There were only minutes left.

And in times of time famine people tend to become hysteric. They tend to blank out any kind of rationality and logic. Because in such times, there's only the disgusting feeling of fear clutching at one's senses.

“Please,” Hana half-cried. “Only once … J-Just for today ignore the rules and just,” she took a deep breath because her tone was getting higher and higher, “Just let me see him, eh?” She bit hard on her lower lip to prevent herself from screaming. “Eh?”

It was already wondrous that Hana didn't just run through the whole hospital without any permission. In fact, her legs were shaking from anxiety; they were ready to sprint any second.

The pitiful sight of Hana looking so helplessly and so pleadingly at the receptionist made the woman sigh in defeat. “Alright … but this is the first and last time something like this happens.” She scribbled something into a piece of paper and handed it Hana. “That's where he's staying.”

It didn't even take two seconds for Hana to snatch away the piece of paper and call out a truly sincere thanks to the receptionist before she ran.

Hana tried to calm down, tried to quiet down her heavy breaths, and she tried to hold back her tears at the sight of Luhan lying in bed, an IV in his arm.

And she had thought that back then, Luhan looked weak. In comparison to what she looking at right now, that was nothing. He looked so terribly weak that she thought he'd break when she stared at him too intently. His hair was very short and thin, so unlike his usually thick and full hair. His skin was sickish white, so much that it looked ashen. Under his eyes were big dark circles, so evident and purple that it reminded of beautiful orchids in a sick way. His lips had the same color as his skin – one might think that he lost every drip of blood. His cheekbones stood out because of the severe weight loss and his face looked unhealthily bony. But what pained Hana even more was the arm that wasn't tucked under the blanket. So thin that it seemed as if it would break when she touched it. His fingers, though, were the worst.

Hana didn't even know whether she wanted to rush to him and take his hand in hers because he looked so frail. And every part of her being was worried he might break.

Seeing him like this, she didn't even dare think about waking him up. He needed to rest. Absolutely.

And so Hana just stood in the door frame, her hand muffling the sobs that came out automatically once she was faced with this sight, as she stared at him.

To see someone one loved so dearly looking so weak seemed to drain away every bit of strength in one's own body as well. It was a terrible feeling.

What shook Hana the most in this moment was how lifeless – how dead – Luhan looked.

It was the thought of Luhan being dead that burned itself into her mind. That, and the indescribable feeling that came with it. That feeling spread across her whole body and suddenly breathing became so unnatural and difficult.

After what felt like eternity in this sterile and cold room, Hana finally forced herself to turn away. She closed the door behind her as quietly as possible before she sunk to the floor. Her back was leaning against the wall while she slowly wrapped