eight - bummie

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cry to forget.

Jaebutt, you piece of shit.

...

Jaeshit, you piece of butt.

Of course I remember what happened.

That person standing in my room and violating my privacy. Making me feel uncomfortable on purpose. Presenting yourself like some innocent person while deliberately crushing me.

You should've never married a person like her. And, for that, I hate you. I put a million curses on you.

Get the fuck out of here, for the last time.

...

That's what happened, right?

...

I wake up feeling unusually groggy. My eyes blink because the room is so aggressively white. I sigh and hold my forehead, sitting up in the bed.

I'm at the hospital. Of course I am.

There's a blue bottle on the table near me. I can't tell what it's for, but I look closely to see that it's labeled... with some sort of chemical name. A scientific name that I don't dare pronounce. The bottle is slightly transparent and I can see that there's small pills inside of it.

Sleeping pills, aren't they? I understand. I must've been fed one when I was knocked out. I clench the part of my shirt that covers my chest because I have a heartache. Heartburn, or whatever it is. It hurts.

I want to complain to Choi Youngjae.

Where is he? I peer at the clock on the wall and according to the time, he should still be working. Maybe he's neglecting me because I've been too smart-mouthed with him. I wouldn't blame him.

I droop my head down and stare at the plain blankets. My head is dizzy and I close my eyes to hopefully ease the pain.

...

There's this melody in my head and I can't get it out. I can't pinpoint the name of the song, either, but even the lyrics are there, too. Do I sing? Or am I tone-deaf? BEither way, I test the waters. With my eyes still closed, I begin my mini performance.

If I'm dreaming, I hope I won't wake up, because I want to be with you
Just a little bit longer,
Because I'm not brave enough to keep apart with your arms

I bet some people outside are wondering what the singing is for. Fuck them, honestly.

I was hesitating, whether to take this time from you and then
You were teaching me the importance of things, which are not limitless

I fade off once I see that Choi Youngjae is peeking his head in the room. There's this sparkle of admiration in his eyes that I can't describe. He soon clears his throat and shuts the door behind himself.

He stands in the middle of the room and stares at me as if there's something he wants to say. I don't know what the problem is with that kid. If he wants to say something, then he should say it already.

"Jaebum-hyung... Do you remember what you told me yesterday?" he asks nervously. I shake my head.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Really. What did I tell you?"

"Oh..." he purses his lips slightly. What the fuck, Choi? Don't be so cute around me. "I would tell you, but I don't like saying curse words."

Now, that gets me laughing. He looks a bit offended and pouts. I have to look away because he just had to be so fucking cute.

"So you really don't remember?" I shake my head again, this time with a sigh. This kid then has the nerve to look significantly happier and almost literally skip to the bed. I'm forced to cover my mouth and turn away for a second.

"Hyung. I was thinking that you'd be really bored being stuck in here. This hospital is a big place, so I thought I could... take you to see the garden?" he nearly pleads me. I look at him with a dead face and he makes puppy eyes at me. I lost instantly.

"Sure," I shrug casually, "and when you're at it, show me to the showers. If you're going to make me stay any longer, I better get a chance to wash myself."

Teasingly, Youngjae pinches his own nose to imply that I smell bad. I don't, though. I think.

Although, my eyes are glued to the thin, rubber gloves that he's wearing.

They look like the kind surgeons wear when dealing with nasty things, or the gloves that dentists wear. Why is he wearing them? The gloves are absolutely spotless, not to mention. It's odd, but I guess he has his personal reasons. I keep quiet about it.

I rise from the bed and up on my feet I go. Youngjae gestures with his hand for me to come closer and I do. There's a foot or two in between us. This time, he's bravely making eye contact with me. It makes him a hundred times more attractive.

"Let's go, hyung." I grunt in response and step out into the hallway. The first thing I do is take in a deep breath. That kid is really eager, though, and he links elbows with me. I give him the death stare. The edge of his lips tilt up into a tiny grin.

The garden is surprisingly a nice place. It's a wide place and filled with green brushes, grass, trees. There's some flowers that were planted by professionals and those planted by the children who were at the hospital. I got to say, it does make me light at heart. Youngjae taps my arm—that reminds me, he's still holding onto me—and points to a wooden bench. We both sit on it, staring at the sky. He doesn't seem to want to start talking so I do it instead.

"Youngjae," I start saying, "I want to know why you were in that drama." I know the topic is surely a sensitive one to him, judging from how he fled the first time it came up. It still bothers me nonetheless. He sighs, holds his face, and leans his elbows against his knees.

"A lot of things happened, but to summarize it... I was offered acting as a career during high school. The drama you saw is, um, the only thing I ever acted in," he says while licking his lips in unease. I tilt my head in order to look at him.

"Why did you stop? I like your acting."

"Uh..." he trails off, pretending to try and think about a reason why. I can see through him, though. He's avoiding the truth and doesn't want to tell me why. I know I'm pushing him into a corner that he can't run from. I then hear sniffling noises coming from him.

Yes, he is softly crying. I don't want to nag him because I know how annoying that is, so I wait for him to cry it out.

"I'm sorry, I just- I remembered something I didn't want to... I-I'm a mess..." he murmurs in between weak sobs. By god, am I holding back the urge to squeeze him in my arms.

He leans back on the bench, his legs spread out all the way. His head is tilted back and I can see his adam's apple quivering as he's choking on his words.

"Jaebum-hyung... What if I told you I'm afraid to touch you with my bare hands?"

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