He stands in the open door, just staring blankly. The monotonous beeping sound from the machines next to the bed doesn't even register in his brain. The people talking behind him, with him, they are just white noise in his ears. When he sees the boy, no, the young man in this seemingly too large bed, with white pillows and blankets and tubes connected to the beeping machine, he can't take it anymore. Without stepping fully inside the room, without even showing any emotion he turns around and leaves the hospital.

 

            When Jonghyun finds him he is sitting on the couch in their living-room, his eyes trained on his closed bedroom door.

 

            "You didn't pick up your phone. I was afraid something happened to you as well."

 

            He waits a few seconds for a reaction but when nothing comes he sighs lightly, tries again to get some kind of reaction.

 

            "Hyung, you didn't even go inside of his room to see him. Don't you want to be there when he wakes up?"

 

            "He's in a coma, Jonghyun. He won't wake up. And it's my fault."

 

            At first the younger one is glad that there is some kind of reaction but he soon understands that this is all to come. No more words, no more reaction. Just a blank stare.

 

 

            He's just taking a sip from the glass of water someone placed in front of him when Jonghyun comes running into their home.

 

            "He woke up! He wants to see you!"

 

            It only needs a split second for him to react and he is out of the door, on his way to the hospital. He knows the way to his room, knows the room number although he visits for the first time. He doesn't knock on the door, just tears it open and then stops in his track.

            He's lying in bed, the upper body propped up slightly by big, fluffy pillows. He doesn't seem as small anymore between the white sheets.

 

            "I'm sorry!", he blurts out.

 

            It was his fault.

 

            A weak smile spreads on his lips and he motions for him to come closer, intertwines their fingers when he's close enough.

 

            "Hyung, what are you saying? It isn't your fault that the other car crashed into mine."

 

            "I distracted you. Because of me you were late and had to hurry."

 

            "Nothing was your fault. I'm alive and I'm here. That's the only important thing."

 

            He fell on his knees in front of the hospital bed, his hands clutching the hand in his, tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

 

            "I'm so glad you are alive, Minho!"