Stardust || seongjoong

2. Sunshine

The room is dark, but not casmically so. The sweet music of a forgotten lullaby floats from his brother's room down the hall.

Thinking of his brother, Hongjoong's mind warps painfully into violent, prideful thoughts as he lays staring at the ceiling for what feels like a perpetual night. Hongjoong, for a moment, indulges these thoughts. Even knowing they are unfair, he indulges them.

But then he sighs, and tries to have the thoughts dissipate. But as is known, the more one tries to forget, the more one remembers; only the memories are often a contortion of reality.

With effort, Hongjoong rolls over to his side to stare at the clock: one a.m. He rests for a moment, and then again, with effort and repressed grunts, he sits up on the memoryfoam-topped mattress (a new mattress, instituted by his favorite nurse).

Reaching for the corded remote, Hongjoong lifts the top half of the bed to support his weak muscles.

The prideful thoughts are still there, intruding into his tired mind, and a salted tear slowly glides down his cheek.

For eternal nights like these, Hongjoong used to go outside and lay on the dewy grass to look at the stars.

He knows barely anything about stars, just that they are very hot, and very, very far. He can spot the Big Dipper and Orion's Belt; he thinks he's always been able to find the North Star, but is not one hundred percent sure he was looking at the right one.

Honestly, Hongjoong doesn't even remember how many planets are in the solar system.

What does it matter to him?

In the dark of night, Hongjoong is able to reach the ibuprofen on his bedside table. It is not in a bottle, for he can no longer unscrew one's lid, but he takes two pills from the jade bowl and places them in his mouth.

Reaching for the water, he finds it to be empty. Another tear slides from his tired eyes. He can taste the pills begin to dissolve in his mouth, melting that unnameable flavor— that was never meant to be tasted— onto his tongue.

Another tear.

He tries to swallow using all the viscous saliva he can muster, and the pills ride down his throat, albeit causing more pain atop the aches they are meant to relieve.

But when the pain subsides, Hongjoong again enters into sleep.

°°°

"Good morning, Hyung! Are you ready to wake up?" His little brother's footsteps enter the room; another pair of feet stopping at the doorway.

And who is he to say no? Whether Hongjoong wants it or not, his nurse is here and he does not desire to make anyone wait.

So he nods his head.

The second pair of feet enter, soft, covered in infamous nursing crocks.

"Good morning, Hongjoong-ssi." The waves of a gentle and vibrant voice greet his ears, causing Hongjoong to relax a little.

"Good morning, San. How was the drive?"

San walks to the box of supplies and pulls out a gait belt. "Just was as normal. I got a coffee on the way, though, so I may be more energetic than usual."

Hongjoong lets out an airy laugh and raises his arms as best he could to allow San access to his waist. After the belt is secured, San swings his patient's immobile legs off the side of the bed.