Chapter 87 ~ Hospital Visits

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3rd Person's POV ~ 

The usual hospital corridor is stuffy and the air has an undertone of bleach. It's where a kid who has a broken arm or a bright blue finger splint might wait. The walls are magnolia and are scraped in places from the hundreds of trolleys that have bumped into them. The pictures on the walls are cheap benign prints of uplifting scenes and above the double doors are large blue plastic signs with the areas of the hospital that were almost always flooded with kids. 

In the emergency ward, the atmosphere was completely different. The air had a perfumed scent and the seats were plush. Every surface was dustless. The nurses were hurried and they moved with a sense of panic that they tried to mask, clipboards no longer pushed to their bodies but rather thrown off to the sides as they wheeled Lisa's stretcher toward two wide doors and a large operating room where stadium floodlights couldn't stand a chance. There were vases and beautiful paintings with flowers, but it was no use seeing as most people were crying, and others were calling their families to explain their situation. 

6 figures remained in the common waiting room, Jungkook being the only one allowed in the bleach coated hallway. Her parents had flown back to Los Angeles a day ago, and couldn't come back to Korea no matter how much they tried. Instead, they sent her careless nephew who'd immediately gotten on Jungkook's bad side to go see Lisa. Jungkook changed his clothes out of courtesy, a simple black sweatshirt and shorts shoved on with his old clothes thrown away. He understood that even blood from a paper cut was traumatic in a place like this. 

Normally, waiting wasn't so bad. In a hospital, I mean. You just wait for a respectable, doctorate degree person to come along in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around their neck and a name tag lapel stuck on the right side of their chest. But he found it difficult. 

The whole time, he couldn't help but be anxious for the results. He wouldn't mind how long it took, he was willing to stay. He just wanted someone, anyone, to come out and say she was going to be okay. 

And 2 hours later, his wish was granted. 

"Are you waiting for her ?" A woman with short brunette hair waves him over. He nods, not sure what to feel. When she smiles, he hoped that was her way of saying 'Shortie' was okay. 

"She's awake." 

He can't even smile at the happy news at this point, still worried. He tries to offer a weak grin, but she pats his shoulder understandingly and shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone. He walks to her gurney and sits down in the empty chair next to her. 

"'What could possibly go wrong ?'." He mocks her from earlier that day. "I'm perfectly capable."

"I'm sorry." She laughs at his poor imitation of her voice, quickly wincing when she realized how much it hurt to do so. 

"Don't." He mutters. "It's only going to hurt more." 

"How did I get here ?"

"I heard you scream and I drove back to the lodge." He says. "I called you an ambulance, and here you are. Ta-da." He mutters dryly. 

She grins at his angry little face, trying not to laugh. "On the other hand, I was right about someone being there."

"Who ?" He demands, his hands ready to clump into dangerous, cap-sizing fists. 

"No idea." She shrugs casually. "The guy just sorta looked at me like, 'sorry man, I gotta do what I gotta do', and cut the chandelier." 

"Why're you being so casual about it ?" He asks. 

"Because I could tell he was being forced to do it." 

"How ?"

"The window. He was supposed to throw me out. I'd be dead by now if he hadn't shown me mercy." 

"He'll be dead even if I give him the benefit of the doubt." 

"Please don't." She pats his fist which loosens up almost immediately upon contact.

"Why not ?"

"Just stay with me."

"It hurts ?" He leans forward, eyes softening in regret. 

"It's not your fault." She smiles. 

"How come you don't have any tubes attached to you ?" He asks. "I kind of assumed you would given the amount of blood." 

"I did in the beginning." She frowns. "But those were just to keep me conscious. After a while, they just took them all out and started stitching me up."

"Figuratively ?"

"No." She mumbles, insecurities coming back to haunt her. If she was bullied for a small mark below her lip, what would happen with several gashes on her back ? He seemed to realize her worries and simply takes her hand, fiddling with it. 

"I know I make fun of you a lot." He says. "But you can't honestly think that I don't find you attractive." 

"It's not that." She offers. "You've never demeaned me in any way." 

"Seriously, I think you're beautiful. I just never really felt the need to bring it up. I kissed you that day because I liked your personality. Not your face. But you know me. I don't--I can't really-- What I'm trying to say is that I'm not a romantic." He says. "But really, I think if there's anything you have to worry about, it's definitely not appearance." He was blushing beet red, but he didn't mind for once. 

Suddenly, she smiles. 

"What ?" He asks. 

"It's not you." She says truthfully. "I wouldn't mind if the scars were small. But they're huge." She felt her throat tighten, and the only reason her eyes didn't well up was because she was determined not to cry. 

"You're manly enough for the both of us." He grins that mischievous lopsided grin that made her want to slap him before they started dating. "I mean seriously, how do you just wake up and casually explain that some random dude tried to throw you out a window ?" 

She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't really know." 

He hesitates for a while, jutting his chin at the stitches on her collarbone that faded under her blue hospital scrubs. "You said the scars were big. How big ?"

She pauses, and the smile fades off her face. "No, it's okay if you don't trust me enough." He tries to smile wide enough for the both of them. 

She sighs in frustration with her own actions, her hospital gown rustling as she turns her back on him, sitting criss cross on the gurney. "What ?" He asks. 

"I trust you." She gulps. "Just don't be too grossed out." 


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