ᴀʙᴅɪᴛᴏʀʏ || baek kyung

Out of the Hospital and Into the Courtroom, But Not Really

Out of the Hospital and Into the Courtroom, But Not Really

Jia could tell that Kyung was excited about being discharged from the hospital, despite the vacant expression he wore. The same one he had plastered on his face since the doctor had said that he could leave the next day.

Nurse Park had removed the stitches on his scalp as well, casually saying that it was going to scar. Kyung had seemed highly displeased about that. He had spent most of the evening staring at himself in the mirror attached to the shelf.

"Stop it," Jia didn't look up from her book (it was her English textbook), "People already think that you're a narcissistic jerk."

"I don't like it." He said stubbornly.

"It's just a scar."

"It's too visible."

Jia rolled her eyes through her glasses, "No, it's not. Nobody's going to get that close to your face. Except me, I guess."

His frown deepened—she always thought he looked as if he had a headache when he frowned—and he turned to look at her, "You can see it from across the room."

She didn't even blink before saying, "Stop being melodramatic. It'll fade."

Kyung gritted his teeth and stomped all the way to his bed as if to throw a quiet tantrum. He lay down on his back, right arm folded under his head as he glared holes into the ceiling. Sighing, Jia closed her book and nudged him to shift. She slipped beside him, head on his pillow, close enough for him to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

They hadn't slept this close to each other in months. In fact, it wasn't very often that they had laid like this when they lived together. They were both fussy about having their own space, shifting to the opposite sides of their shared bed while they slept. Kyung had a habit of tossing and turning in his sleep and had more than once elbowed Jia in the face. Jia, on the other hand, had ice cold limbs and nobody appreciated frosty toes touching their feet or creeping up their back, least of all Kyung.

However, Kyung would always stretch his hand whilst asleep to check whether Jia was still beside him.

Jia laid her hand over his chest, subconsciously feeling for his heartbeat because, god, she could've lost him. "You know, I have a scar too. Right here," she tapped her finger on the lower back of her head, "It's really not that bad, having scars. Plus if you fix your hair, no one will even notice." She brushed her fingers through his hair, trying to imitate his usual parted style.

Kyung frowned, "I didn't know. About you..."

"It was a long time ago," she said, with an air of carelessness, "Park Yunhee whacked me in the skull with a soju bottle, and the old lady next door took me to the underground doctor's illegal clinic for stitches because I was bleeding all over the street."

He blinked, "That's so much to process. An illegal clinic?"

"Yeah," she nodded in thought, "He used to harvest organs and sell them or something. He packed up and left a few days before I did. Wonder what happened to him..."

"Every time I feel that your stories can't shock me anymore, you prove me wrong."

"Wait till you hear the one where I used to hang out with a serial killer."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes until he realized that she wasn't joking. "Christ," he sounded stunned, "I don't even know if the Writer is to be blamed for this one." With an afterthought, he added, "How far along does the Writer plan out an extra's life?"