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ㅡPRESENT. " we loved with a love that was more than love. "
when i wake up, three nurses are taking my dirty clothes and random junk off of the empty bed next to me. i blink, once, twice. i sit up and comb my black hair back with my hands. they've become frail, lately.
i've become frail, lately.
one of the nurses makes eye contact with me. i glance up to her and stare, emotionless, and she gives me a sympathetic smile. i turn to the side to face mei, but she isn't there.
"oh, yoongi, you're awake." i plaster a fake smile onto my face, making my cheeks rise and my eyes squint. she does the same, fake smile.
it sort of saddens me to know that no one here is truly happy.
"what are you doing?" my voice comes out fragile, like the type of thin glass you find on a mirror. not like the thick glass you would find here. they keep it thick so it will stay intact if anyone tries to jump out.
i kind of learned that one the hard way.
"ah, you see, we received a new patient yesterday. he's around your age, a bit younger, and we didn't have any other rooms."
i watch as they set down my sketchbooks onto the white tile, nodding. the nurse next to my bed removes the sheets and replaces them with new ones, fresh and clean.
my breathing hitches as i continue to stare at the bed opposite to mine. it used to be mei's.
"you can bring him in now." one nurse says in a rather hushed manner to another. the nurse nods and pulls open the door.
the first thing i see are his bare feet strapped to the wheelchair. soon followed by his pastel blue hospital gown and bony hands. today he seems much more awake, his eyes taking in everything in the room.
his wrists both have a thin layer of bandaging on them, covered in a few specks of red blood. he's obviously here for suicide. his cheeks are tinted a shade of pink. pastel, to be exact, not like the color of his hair, which is bright pink.
he has deep brown, mocha eyes, like the color of rustic wood. his nose is a bit pointy, and slightly turned upwards. his lips are in between a nude shade and a light pink one, chapped and plump.
"now, yoongi. this is jimin." i look to him and smile as best as i can, and he returns a shy smile and a small, barely noticeable wave.
the nurse, (the other two have left,) wheels him towards the bed. she takes a moment to unstrap his feet and hands from the wheelchair before he eventually lays himself comfortably on the bed.
