In Your Dreams (A DahMo Fanfic)

21: The nightmare

Dahyun's mom, unexpectedly, took the news without going hysterical, like it was something she foresaw a long time ago.

"It's not like you could actually stop her from dreaming," Mrs. Kim says, as she hands me a cup of jasmine tea. She looks over at Dahyun, who's sleeping at the sofa. "If I could do what you guys do, I would've stopped her long ago."

The past few days have been unbearably cold, so I take respite in the warmth of the mug. "Even I couldn't—she's just that powerful," I say, blowing into the tea.

"It's her father's side, you know? They're the ones plagued with brain diseases," Mrs. Kim shares while dipping the tea bag up and down. "My side is more of diabetics and hypertensive people," she adds.

Watching Dahyun sleep, it...lessens the pain. She's not citing something that isn't there or having difficulty with doing the simplest of tasks. But the thought of her not opening her eyes ever again, though inevitable, still sends a dull pain in my chest.

"Thanks, Momo-ssi..." Mrs. Kim says, reaching her hand out to mine. "...for being here for my daughter."

"Of course, there's nowhere I'd rather be right now."

"But, please...you have to go back to work," she implores, noting the days that I skipped work to nurse her daughter.

"But, imo-ssi, she needs me here right now. I can't just leave—" (A/N: imo-aunt)

She shakes her head, lightly hitting my hand. "Who said anything about leaving? We'll just be here. Do you think Dahyun would want you to stop living because of her?"

I kneel in front of my sleeping beauty, looking at how snug her hood wraps around her head. "Would you be okay while I'm gone?" I whisper, before planting a kiss on her forehead, wishing it would heal her. "I promise I'll always head back to you." As I tuck her hair inside, she smiles in her sleep. I hope you're dreaming of me, yeobo.

***

"Didn't think she'd leave just like that," Sana comments while eating her lunch.

"AWOL, right? That's tough," Mina notes.

I can feel that they're just waiting for me to say something that'll satiate their curiosity, but I just let them make their own speculations. After all, who would understand what we're going through? They bombard me with questions, asking how I feel, if we're still talking, and whatnot.

"Please, let's not talk about personal matters at the workplace," I mutter before slurping my budae jjigae.

"Okay...Ms. Park," Sana says with a giggle.

As much as I want to share my problems with them, so that someone would finally comfort me, they wouldn't get where I'm coming from.

***

What was once my sanctuary, the rooftop, has now become a place of pain—all our secret meetings, the stories we shared...it's all but a distant memory now that only I will carry.

"Momo-ring," Sana's cheerful voice comes from behind. Mina steps out of the exit as well.

"Why are you guys here? We clocked out an hour ago," I say, staring into the cityscape.

"Mi-tang and I have been talking and, don't you dare lie to us..." Sana demands. "We know that something's wrong. You wouldn't just decide to skip work, for days mind you, if it weren't serious."

"What? I just like hanging out here."

Mina suddenly hugs me, something she hardly does to anyone. "Please, you can tell us anything...we're friends, remember?"

Hearing the word friends, something I've always took for granted, immediately sets the waterworks. Why do we always bottle up our tears, and end up a crying mess?

"She's dying. My Dahyun's dying," I say like a broken record as I bawl my eyes and throat out. Whoever said that giving hugs and pats on the back of a crying person was clearly mistaken—it makes you cry more, it feels worse, like your heart is about to stop at any moment; it feels like dying.

Once I got myself together, I told Mina and Sana everything—about me, hyper dreaming, Dahyun, how we met, and why we're at our current predicament—leaving them at a loss for words. "You must think I'm off the rails, it's fine—"

They shake their heads vehemently. "Thanks," Sana starts. "Thanks for telling us the truth, Momo-ring."

***

"Would you be okay with washing the dishes?" Mrs. Kim asks, wiping the sweat off her forehead. I nod, thanking her for the scrumptious dinner.

"How is Dahyunie? Hopefully she was—"

"She's fine—just watching her favorite cartoons upstairs. Excuse me, I'll just take a quick shower."

Despite everything, I've got to admire Dahyun's mom. She practically raised her daughter by herself, since her husband passed away when Dahyun was still a toddler. But, at least, now she'll have me to help with taking care of—

A series of quick bangs and thuds come from the staircase. My instinct kicks in, dropping the plate into the sink, as I dash over to find...

...no...

God, no...

...it's Dahyun, unconscious with her wheelchair still on the stairs, on the floor with blood seeping out of her head.