A rude and arrogant patient with no identification wakes up from a year long coma and develops temporary amnesia. Assigned to you, a volunteer who's not going to put up with his attitude, you're both in for a rough ride.
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"Hyunjin!"
There, Hyunjin...
THEMES | fluff, angst, a slight love triangle (i gotta stop with the skz love triangles–), amnesia!Hyunjin, Doctor!Chan, Rude!Hyunjin, car accident, trauma
SUMMARY: A rude and arrogant patient with no identification wakes up from a year-long coma and develops temporary amnesia. Assigned to you, a volunteer who's not going to put up with his attitude, you're both in for a rough ride.
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PREVIEW:
"Hyunjin!"
There, Hyunjin groans, struggling to lift himself off the ground. You assume he'd tried to reach for something without his crutches, and failed miserably. His face red and his lip busted. You hurry to his side, doing your best to pull his weight and lift his upper body. He's a little hesitant in accepting your help, but figures he's got no choice. Feeling his cheek pulse in pain, he's sure it'll be bruised tomorrow, but he's more focused on the wave of déjà vu flooding his being.
Suddenly he was in a car, gripping a steering wheel and there's somebody at his side. He can't see their face, but at the moment, he doesn't care, because he's beyond scared. He's terrified. His arms are trying to frantically swerve, and he can almost taste the blood on his lip.
And the person shrills an octave higher than he ever thought possible, "Hyunjin!" their fear so evident, and it's the most blood-curdling thing he's sure he'll ever hear. Slowly, his hearing is blocked by his pulse, and his eyes are blown wide, staring into your own.
"Hyunjin? Hey, are—are you back?" you panic, wiping his tears from his face frantically, but somehow your hands are still gentle. Your heart's pounding in your chest, and you aren't even sure if calling out to him is what you're supposed to do. One second, he's pushing himself up, hardly accepting your assistance, and the next he's clutching your arm in a death grip, his nails digging into your skin and his breathing staggering.
Thinking quickly, you sat him up, stroking his face and hair in hopes of bringing him out of whatever he was in.
Now, he was aware, focused on you with wet eyes and the most broken expression you'd ever seen. He squeezed his hand slightly, making you flinch. It's as if he hadn't realized what he was squeezing until then, releasing it almost immediately and apologizing profusely. "I-I, I'm sorry—I—"
"It's okay," you reassure him, rubbing your reddened arm, and nodding at him in a way he just knows means "what happened?" but he can't explain it himself. It was so vivid, so real, and then it was just... over. How was he supposed to explain that? Taking notice of his hesitance, you let it slide, opting for a different question, "Are you okay?"
Still catching his breath, he nods, "... I'm okay," gaping at his hand now, guilt beginning to eat at him for what he'd done to you after being rude all day, but his resolve to refuse help from you mended itself just as quickly as it had broken, his face hard and brows furrowed feebly, glaring at you softly as if he didn't cry in your arms moments ago, yet unable to hold the hostility he'd used in his gaze earlier. "Where do I sleep?"
His sudden indifference startles you, and it's certainly disappointing to see any trust or bond dissipate just as it had started, but decide not to voice your opinions. They're just mood swings... they'll fade eventually, you think to yourself, standing and outstretching your arm to him, which he swats away and opts to struggle with the counter instead. Suit yourself.
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Cross-posted from Tumblr (@hyunnows) This is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination, coincidence, or used in a fictitious manner.
