red ; bts

fifty six ; seokjin

(Alternate Ending: 7/7)

Several weeks later.

You've never been that fond of hospitals. The smell of them, the food, the coffee, the sad people, the crying people. The rushing nurses and doctors, the sick people, the dying people, the dead people, the helplessly hopeful people. The people in white coats and blue scrubs who rush into your father's room while your mother desperately hugs his lifeless body and you stand back watching everything move in slow motion. No. You've never been that fond of them; you'll never be. And yet, here you are.

"Yuri," Dr. Kang says as he sees you across the nurse's counter he's been paged to, "hi." His expression softens, watching as you press your lips and curl them into a closed smile. "Um," he turns his attention to the pretty nurse sitting in front of the computer, "thank you, Dani." He gently pats her shoulder, walking away around the counter toward you.

"Hi, Hyunjae." You greet the tall man softly, looking up at him and noticing the way he tries not to openly acknowledge your black coat draped over your black long-sleeve turtleneck and your black pants and shoes. He keeps his sparkling, dark brown eyes on yours politely. You glance down at the floor then back up at him, parting your lips to say something, but no words seem to be ready for you.

"How are you?" He asks first, sparing you some time to prepare for whatever conversation brought you into a place which does nothing but remind you of a day that you'd much rather forget. An older doctor with a mask and bloody scrubs runs past you, and then some nurses follow with charts clutched in their arms. You watch them disappear into another hallway. "Here," Dr. Kang reaches for your wrist, gently taking your hand, "we can talk somewhere else if you need to."

"Blood doesn't phase me, it's okay." You turn back to him, emptiness in your gaze. You don't look him in the eyes anymore. He exhales a small sigh, pressing his lips together and watching the way you don't pull your hand out of his own. How you just stand there, looking down at the floor between the two of you. He starts walking anyway, taking you with him down another familiar hall.

"Oh! Dr. Kang, I have this kidney patient set up for surgery with a strange mass and, well, after running some tests, I think I might need a second opinion. It's not right now urgent, but if you could please—" a woman with a burgundy scrub cap stops abruptly in front of the man leading you to some discrete location. She takes off her mask, looking up at him with a binder in hand.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry. Not now, Dr. Yeon. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." Dr. Kang stutters his step, walking around her quickly while he tightens his gentle hold on your hand. She furrows her brows, keeping her eyes on the two of you as you continue moving and she stays put. For a quick moment, you make eye contact with her. Before you look away, you see how her face begins to light up with a memory. The memory of your twinkling, sad eyes.

You're the girl in the cafeteria. The one who was always in the cafeteria. The girl who always sat alone at a two-person table, who never ever got anything but an occasional coffee, who never spoke much. The girl with the two brothers who'd always walk away frustrated after the first hour of trying to communicate. The girl with the two brothers who'd always be in the private wing across the hospital. The one who came in at five PM, sat at her lonely two-person table, and left at midnight. Everyday.

You're the girl who's face was paler every time she walked through the hospital doors. The girl who never cried, who rarely visited the private wing where Dr. Yeon's stage IV leukemia patient laid dying in a fancy bed next to his wife and two sons. You're the girl who walked into that room one quiet afternoon while her mother slept and her brothers were too busy speaking to some fancy doctors in the hallway to notice her.