𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱; markhyuck

❦16❦

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"Well...when someone tells you they have a secret they want to share," Mark murmured with concerned eyes as he gazed up at the building before them, "One doesn't immediately assume the hospital is involved."

"Yeah, it is a bit odd," Chenle agreed and fixed the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He seemed quite hesitant to follow through with this now that they'd made it all the way. This was something most, if not all people knew about...but didn't discuss. His heart was sore and pounding from stress and pent up anxiety, and seeing a boy he barely knew beside him wasn't particularly aiding this. However, he knew Mark was the one whom he could rely on from now on. He needed him to be that person.

He couldn't take this any longer.

"You okay?" The older enquired softly, "Your eyes are flickering a lot and your swallowing more harshly than before."

That's...observant, the ravenette pursed his lips, but he chose not to address that and nodded meekly before walking on ahead to guide them inside. Once the automatic doors hissed apart to allow them entrance, the stomach-wrenching scent of steriliser and latex hit them like a truck. These smells, however, were something a lot of people associated with death.

With hospitals.

"Park Jisung," the teenager just muttered to the receptionist as they passed her desk, although she seemed to know well who he was. The morbid ambiance shrouding this place was enough to send chills over Mark's spine, and he couldn't help but feel that he'd leave in an hour or however long and wish he'd never come.

The walk wasn't long. One lift to the third floor was all it took before they were both standing in front of a white, motionless door. There was no personality to it...no special features. Just a plastic clip on the wall holding an old clipboard with that same name across the top — Park Jisung. Why does this feel like a personal thing? The older worried, blinking once again without any certainty before shuddering when Chenle pushed the door open.

It was cold. Like a bloody morgue, actually. Everything smelt like disinfectant, the walls were bare of any imagination or creativity, and the window beyond the single bed was ajar with its paper-thin curtain billowing from a light breeze. That must've been the cause of such icy temperatures in only one section of this grey building.

"This is him," the Chinese boy stated as he trailed closer to the bed first and beckoned Mark to come over and see. The Korean-Canadian closed the white panel behind him and did as he was told, dropping his schoolbag to the floor first and holding his breath. Walking towards the occupant of this room was like shuffling down the aisle of desks in primary school when the teacher was about to humiliate and scold you.

"Park Jisung?" He whispered, rigidly standing over the other side and looking down at the deathly pale and wasted face of a teenager he had never seen before. His heart dropped to the deepest pits of his gut, and God did his breathing fail at the sight. The youth was still present in the pretty features that should've been moving, smiling. His hair was a washed out blue near the ends, but it was so long now that the brown had lengthened further than the dye. It was probably closer to shoulder length at this point.

"Mhm. This is my boyfriend, you see. He's player thirteen." Chenle then reached out and took the comatose boy's bony hand and held in both of his warmer ones. He was visibly trying to hold it together even now, and Mark had to wonder how often he came here to cry alone. To rid heartbreaking sobs when nobody else was present to hear but this senseless body. "Jisungie..." he uttered ever so quietly, pressing the back of the said hand to his forehead and shuddering out a breath. "This is our new player thirteen...Can you hear me?"

Fuck, the older gritted his teeth, unsure of why it was he felt the need to cry a little as well. Perhaps it was his weak humanity that saw one of his own — a teenager — wasting away on a bed that didn't belong to him. This wasn't even his room. Or maybe it was the fact that he'd travelled all the way from Canada to get here, to fit in better...and it seemed Korea only had one shitty thing to hand him after another. There was no break or end to the misery that this town could provide, and the saddest part was that there could've been more.

"What..." Mark whispered, "What happened?"

The younger slowly looked up from the sheets and lowered Jisung's hand down, keeping his trembling fingers around it nonetheless. "It was an accident. It always is, isn't it?"

"Then...how old is he? How long has he been this way?"

"He's younger than us. His birthday went by in February...he's seventeen now. As for the coma, the fucking life support has been hooked up for a year now. It celebrated its birthday the same day he did."

Why do I feel like I shouldn't be here? The ravenette wondered, pulling a seat from the side anyway and flopping down into it before he could listen to his body and run for it. He knew his recent friend was in need of someone to talk to and rely on. This couldn't have been easy; not by a long shot. And friends like Jaemin and Renjun didn't seem like the type to sit here in his stead and listen to a sob story. "Chenle...why did you bring me here? I can already tell you don't want to talk about him. I can also see in your eyes that you aren't ready to fess up to the whole story either...so why?"

"Because I'm all alone right now," the boy sobbed, squeezing his eyes closed and letting the tiny little droplets he had tried to push back inside fall across his cheeks and down to his jaw. "I do nothing but follow people around all day, and play basketball to pass my time. I'm not good at school. I'm not good with people, and I can't fucking stand home right now. It's like Jisung is there...but he isn't."

"You lived together?"

"Not quite...but close enough," he sighed before rubbing his face and holding the pressure to his eyes. "Our families were really close...still are, to be honest. This big idiot was my childhood friend before my boyfriend. Now he's just...this."

Mark nodded slowly in hopes of coming off as though he knew what to think. He couldn't actually place a hand on what it was he felt at this moment. He didn't know these two, but he was about to. Ordinarily a person would get up and embrace the broken soul who needed a hug...but he wasn't ready to hug anything. This town was crawling with deceit and darkness, and made his skin uncomfortable. Had they not just moved here, the teen would've been suggesting getting the fuck away. "Do you want me to say or do something? I don't know what I should be for you...but I'm willing to try."

"I will open up more when I'm ready. For now," Chenle sighed, "I just need you to listen to me when I rant, or vent to me about this Hell. We both know this ditch is infested with witches, so at least that's relatable."

"I get it."

But did he? Did he know the true depths and layers of this area? And even if he did, was he preparing properly for the people who were accustomed to it? For all he knew, the Chinese boy could've been manipulating him as well as the next person.

Maybe even Lee Donghyuck, who seemed more 'level' than the rest, could've been a monster in angel's clothing.

Only their eyes would tell.

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sorry this is super late, but it's out now at least. i hope you liked it, and thank you so much for reading ❤️

stay safe!
-lily