On the news tomorrow, they’ll paint Kyungsoo as a bright, young and ambitious student with his whole life ahead of him. Some students that he’ll have talked to a couple of times will cry and say he was such a nice person, they might even get one of his professors to comment about it.

He could already see it now, and he was still there. Still breathing.

The car had come out of nowhere, a flashy sports car with custom painting that was clearly being driven by someone who had no cares in the world.

Kyungsoo almost felt bad for damaging such a beautiful car.

As the metal work crunched into his legs, shattering all both of his lower leg bones and dislocating his knees, and as he hit the windshield with enough force for the pristine glass to shatter, he already knew his fate was sealed.

He was going to die, be it immediately or in a few hours.

There were glistening pieces of glass surrounding his body, mixed in with the loose pieces of asphalt and tar, like hidden stars in the deep black sky. He daren’t close his eyes for fear he’d never open them again.

He remembers the white noise, or maybe it was people screaming. He most certainly remembered the smell of rubber burning as the car sped away, leaving Kyungsoo’s broken body by the side of the road.

Lungs were screaming for air, his chest burned as he wheezed on the floor. Something was most certainly damaged inside, he could feel his breaths become shallow enough for him to be nearly hyperventilating.

There wasn’t any pain, not now anyways. He felt numb, the sensation of pins and needles in his legs and feet.

He closed his eyes when he began to see slithers of red etch into the starry night sky which surrounded him, and someone screamed to call an ambulance.

--

“... possible femur fractures…”

“Several lacerations to the chest… loss of blood…”

“Hook him up for a transfusion, call Radiography and tell them we need a full CT scan from head to…”

“Sir? Sir can you open your eyes for me?”

“... certainly has broken ribs, most probably punctured his right lung… drain needed…”

“... BP dropping, please bring a defibrillator in just in case…”

“ sustained… -ead injury…”

“Sir?”

“... Begin… chest….-pressions.”

--

Hospitals, to Kyungsoo, were where the circle of life took place.

A lot of people were born here.

A lot of people died here.

When Kyungsoo opened his eyes once more,  he was greeted by dozens of bodies moving around him, he couldn’t hear properly but he thinks they were talking. His eyes could not focus, and there was something obstructing his mouth, he wanted to scream.

He could smell his own blood, it clung to him like an unwanted pest.

He didn’t like the buzzing noise that seemed to be the only thing he could hear, so he closed his eyes and drifted once more.

--

It was so uncomfortable, there was something underneath his arm and in his chest and he felt wrong.

Upon further inspection, it turned out to be a plastic tube, it ran over the handrail of the hospital bed and under the itchy gown, right into where the uncomfortable sensation was coming from and it made him feel sick.

Another tube had been pushed into his nose, some tape to keep it in place made his face itch.

His hands were warm, his body was warm, he hadn’t realised but instead of his body been slick with blood it was covered in a sheen layer of sweat. The oxygen mask which had been resting on his face fell away, leaving him gasping for air that he didn’t know he needed.

He felt so painfully alive.

A gentle hand reached out, one he was not familiar with. They pressed the oxygen mask into Kyungsoo’s face with enough force to indent the flesh on his cheeks, it stung, in a way. But the oxygen he was rewarded with made the slight added pain worth it.

His eyes were still struggling to focus, maybe he’d hit his head with the fall. But the stranger was there, standing beside the metal railing of the bed, as he looked down at the broken body that Kyungsoo had been left with.

“Sir?” and that voice.

An angel, surely.

He reached to move the oxygen mask away, he needed to talk, he needed to know where he was and how long he had left. But his arm was held back by a series of wires which clung to him like poison ivy vines, restricting his movement.

His angel seemed to notice what he’d tried to do, and gently lifted the mask off his face to give him enough room to speak.

It was hard to talk, his throat was itching it was so dry and his lungs just wouldn’t fill up with the air he needed, but he managed a few words. “Am I… where…”

“You are in intensive care, sir, you were in an accident.”

So this stranger wasn’t an angel, just a human, maybe a nurse. He was alive. He was still there. The beeping of the monitor which was somewhere to his side chirped in time with the pulse that he could feel in his ears, the thudding and the beeps almost harmonizing.

Kyungsoo wanted to laugh.

“You… nurse?” He rasped once more.

The stranger shook his head, Kyungsoo blinked a few times to try refocus his eyes some more. They were a man, he could tell from the voice and the overall outline of their face. But they had such a soft expression, he was so easy to read like a book.

“No, I was there at the accident, I was the one who came in the ambulance with you. I’m Jongin.” and Kyungsoo was graced with a small smile.

Kyungsoo couldn’t smile in return, but he lifted his hand as far as it could go, his clammy skin gently touching Jongin’s. His grip was weak, but nevertheless Jongin took his hand, thumb gently over Kyungsoo’s hand next to the cannula line which fed into the veins in his hand.

Jongin was cold, but he looked like he could be so warm.

“Kyungsoo.” And that was all he needed to say. His savior would understand.

A nurse came in whilst they kept their hands linked together. The middle aged woman was short and silent, she didn’t comment on Kyungsoo being awake or the fact that he was holding hands with Jongin, which he was somewhat grateful for. The oxygen mask was gone, replaced with a plastic tube which ran underneath his nose to still give him his much needed air. She set some timers near the monitors before making her way out once more.

Kyungsoo tried to take a deep breath but found it impossible, he then tried to shift his body but his left leg was actually covered with metal pieces and some surgical bandages and his right leg was bandaged up and strapped to a hard case.

“... No dancing for… a while…” He tried to joke, anything to distract himself from the ungodly invasion in his right side.

And to his surprise Jongin laughed, tightening his grip on Kyungsoo’s hand. “No, I don’t think you’re going to be doing much of anything for a while. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Alive. I’m alive.” and that time Kyungsoo smiled, eyes sliding shut for just the briefest of moments.

Jongin pulled the chair he must have been sat on before Kyungsoo woke up, not once letting go of his hand. Sitting down at just the right height so Kyungsoo could still see his angelic face.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That we feel the most alive when we’re closest to death.” And Jongin’s stare became intense, occasionally he would blink in time with the beeping of the heart monitor.

“...Yeah… Can I have some… water, please? My throat is…” and Kyungsoo didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Jongin was holding out a cup.

The water was like honey but ice cold, and there wasn’t anywhere near enough in the cup to satisfy him. Jongin explained that he wasn’t allowed to drink a lot because he’d just had surgery on his left leg.

“They had to put pins in, the impact completely shattered your left tibia, fractured your left fibula, and there was a hairline fracture to your right fibula. They think you might have cracked your femur slightly but they were more concerned about the bottom half.”

“... Definitely no dancing… it hurts…”

“Where does it hurt? Do you want me to go get the nurse? I don’t know if they can give you anything else just yet but I’ll ask if you want me to.” He stood, readying himself.

“My chest… feels very tight…” And to emphasize his point he laid his free hand on it.

Jongin just gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, you broke 4 ribs, 3 on the left side, 1 on the right. The one on the right punctured your lung as well, hence the drain.” He gestured to the annoying tubing which was beginning to irritate Kyungsoo.

“They strapped you up though, they can’t really do much else for them. You’ll just have to rest for a really long time.” Jongin sat back down, shifting his chair even closer.

Kyungsoo just hummed because that was all he could manage at that point. Using his voice was hard, and it tired him out. He must have slept for so long, he didn’t even know what day it was anymore, let alone what time it might have been.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy, the weight of sleepiness causing them to slide shut. He wanted to stay awake, he was scared that when he closed his eyes this time he’d wake up and he’d be somewhere else and that the only person who was really looking after him would just be gone.

“Jongin…”

“Yeah?”

“Please… promise me you won’t… leave. I don’t want to… be alone.”

Jongin’s hand was now warm, and pleasant against Kyungsoo’s. Jongin tightened his grip once more, squeezing the others hand. His thumb along Kyungsoo’s in a bid to comfort him slightly, or at least try.

“I’m not going anywhere.” he heard, as his eyes closed once more and the otherwise annoying blips from the monitor lulled him into a somewhat pleasant sleep.