Being in a hospital is never fun, period. But there's one thing in this case that seems to make things better; the doctor who visits to check on you more frequently than others. Dr. Kim Namjoon is a totally swoon-worthy cardiac doctor who just happe...
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ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ | "ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ"
How the hell did I get here? I continued to wonder.
Hot, angry tears start to fall down Namjoon's cheeks, and I can't help but feel bad for him; I pity him. I believe that he deserves to feel my pain. But that's why I feel guilty because no real friend would ever wish that on the other. Maybe I'm just as bad as him.
'He's not a monster!' I keep trying to tell myself, 'He just doesn't know how to properly show his love and express his feelings.'
But that leads to me arguing with the inevitable. He might not be a monster, but his actions are monstrous. And sadly, no monsters have room in their hearts for love.
"Namjoon, please, just take a deep breath and calm down." I try again, now being the one to comfort him instead of the other way around.
"But I love you, Y/n! Please stay with me forever." He begs. "I want you to marry me so that you'll stay with me, forever."
The tension in here was so thick I could cut it with a knife. This was so incredibly awkward. "Joonie, please take it easy. The two weeks aren't up yet, so you have no reason to be acting this way. I'm sorry, but I don't want to marry you. I'll finish off the two weeks, and we can make our choice then, but right now, my answer is no. I'm too young, and not ready for any of this at all. You know that."
He starts to sob uncontrollably, and I wrap my arms around him, trying to give him a tender hug, hoping to calm him down. I hold him as he sobs, and it's at this moment that I truly realize that Namjoon isn't a monster. He's just broken. It didn't start all those years ago when we were kids—it started when I abandoned him. It's my fault, and I'll forever have to live with that guilt. But some of the things he's done to me too, are pretty damn guilt worthy, and he'll have to live with that as well. I hate to say that I think that makes us pretty square. I continue to whisper sweet nothings into his ear so that he'll hopefully calm down, and his quiet sobbing slowly subsides to mere sniffles.
I gently pat his back as he stops crying, kissing his forehead in hopes that this will all resolve and just go away. When he finally stops crying, we sit in silence, just holding one another, until he says to me, "I know you think my love for you is poisonous. You still think I'm a monster, don't you?" I look up to see his glassy, chocolate-brown eyes swimming full of what can only be described as pain.
I sigh, knowing he'll expect an answer, and won't give up until he hears what he wants to hear. "You're not a monster," I mumble pathetically, and he lets out a sarcastic laugh that has my eyes widening as I stare at him.
His moods switched much faster than I could keep up with. "What else am I, but a monster, as you've made it clear, that could keep an angel locked up for himself when the angel so clearly longs to be free." He tells me, slowly moving away from my hold, and before I know it, he is now the one holding me, his large warm hand slowly stroking the side of my face, sadly but adoringly.
