{Never end.}

The walls are still white. The ceiling is still white. The floor is still a sickly green with ugly flower designs on them, far outdated compared to the technology. Constant beeps rings in my ears from the weird contraptions to my left and right as I hear Myungsoo's breath gradually become heavy. He hasn't been sleeping to well the past week, all because of me. I was an idiot to throw out my medication.

I knew I shouldn't have, I was being selfish. But I know I'm getting better. I learned my lesson after Myungsoo gave me that hour long lecture. I really hate his nagging. So I've been a good boy and was doing everything the smart men in white coats has told me to do, like Myungsoo wanted.

It was about four in the morning, I couldn't sleep. My little room was dimly lit by a lamp above me. I sat up, remembering to be careful not to wake Myungsoo. I reached for his phone which he placed on the bedside table right before he dosed off.

The screen flashed bright with a picture of us back in our apartment. I entered the lock key, the thing immediately taking me to the home screen. He's such a ert. The background he took when I was asleep, weirdo. I scrolled pass the apps and tapped on the photo albums. In there were thousands of photos. Myungsoo had always wanted to be a professional photographer but who makes a living out of that? So he just uses his phone camera to capture the world, his world, which is me.

I keep scrolling and stop at one of us in the early morning. Myungsoo had the phone in his hands as I was wrapping my arms around his torso. I looked pissed, both of us had messy bed hair, mine could be easily compared to that of a haystack. He was smiling to the camera while as I sported a frown. I didn’t usually frown but that particular day was his birthday and I specifically remember the night before that I had over time at the café and asked him to let me sleep in. He didn’t and woke me up at exactly midnight, demanding a happy birthday greeting. I don’t even know how I feel in love with this scoundrel.

The next picture was of me making him a birthday breakfast. I chuckle at how ridiculous I looked with that hideous apron on. It was a fairly nice taken picture. The light shown through the kitchen window, my silhouette perfectly captured. I wasn’t facing him, come to think of it; I don’t even remember him taking this at all, same for the other half of the photos on his phone.

I chuckle at the next one. It was of me again, in our little garden of dead tomato plates and daisies. Both of us had nothing close to green thumbs and had killed off everything in less than a month. I had a hose at hand, staring questionably at him with my eyes bugging out. I shook my head disapprovingly at my appearance. Weeds were gathered into a pile to my left, new potted roses to be planted on the right. I recall Myungsoo sitting and watching. He didn’t help at all. I was soon tired, asking for a glass of water. Myungsoo complied, reminding me to take my medication which I buried along with the blooming roses. They died as well.

I keep scrolling past each picture to the next laughing every time. Most of them were of us making silly faces, somewhere of sceneries that Myungsoo took on our trips, the rest were of me.

I locked the phone a few moments later before placing it on the table and continued to Myungsoo’s dirty hair. He hasn’t showered and I scolded him for being untidy. I can’t even imagine how our home must’ve looked like. I shiver at the thought. Last time I was admitted to the hospital, Myungsoo completely trashed it, blaming it on me for making him too busy to clean up.

My thoughts were still wandering on hazy memories when I was finding it harder to breathe, I press a button and the nurse came in to help in less than two minutes. She helped me put the mask on and adjusted the pillows as well. I thanked her and she left as quickly as she came, not forgetting to turn off the lights. Breathing in steady breaths like the doctor told me, I counted sheep.

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep…241 sheep…

502 sheep...

The hospital vanishes behind all of the other buildings; I held Myungsoo closer to me and whisper, “Let’s go for a walk, hmm?”

He’d look at me like I’m crazy and said, “I think you should rest.”

I shake my head, “I’ve been resting for more than two weeks, Myunggie.”

“But-“

“So that’s a yes?” the conversation stopped there and I knew I had won. The taxi drives ends shortly in front of our home. I’ve miss the place. He helped me up the stairs and I find myself tired. Myungsoo looks at me with worry, more pills and a water bottle at hand. “I’m fine,” I gave him a weak smile and let him drag me into our shared bedroom. Surprisingly, the house has looked like how I’ve left it. Myungsoo carefully laid me down and tucked me in, I laugh at his gentleness, reminding him that I’m not made of paper.

“But you sure look like it.”

He places a soft kiss on my forehead before crawling in as well. I tucked his head under my chin, our legs tangles with each other. He was crying. I told him there’s nothing to cry over considering that I’m perfectly fine. He still did, though. Soaking my shirt with tears mixed with snot. I told him to look at me, but I’m not the only ugly crier in this house. I patted his back and kissed his hands until he stopped shaking.

“I’m fine, Myungsoo.”

“Sure you are,” damnit, why must he be so stubborn.

“Shut up and sleep.”

“But I’m not tired,” he mumbles, snuggling closer into my chest, so close it seems as if we were one.

“I am.”

A/N: I'm such a horrible person. I should have upated weeks ago, today is not sungjonggie's birthday, but like every lazy person in the world, I procrastinated. I'm sorry guys. So yeah, sungyeol isn't dead. //hides in a cond