𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅𝒔 - 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓰

𝓒𝓱; 73 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

The specific time Minho had been in this room, he didn't know, for his main focus laid not with the clock on the wall, dangling from the corner, but on his hand tightly clamped around the polished wooden rod which he held on to. Maybe an hour has passed. Maybe, but that still wasn't important. Not now. So far, they, Minho and his physiotherapist, have practiced trying to maintain his balance. The keyword is 'trying'. 

It really wasn't as easy as it seemed. Not any more. It's not like it used to be. Minho had almost collapsed onto the ground multiple times, only being saved by the flaying of his arms to maintain balance and his therapist close to his side. She was a nice lady. Still, that didn't stop his breath from wavering, and the thundering hits from his heart inside his chest. Tears wanted to brim in his eyes, but he refused to let them blind him once more. 

"You can try to let go of the rod now," the woman insisted with a gesture. Minho lifted his trembling hand. However, the balance he tried to prolong teared down with a crash of reality when he couldn't keep himself standing anymore, hitting the floor he couldn't sense beneath him. 

The frustration boiling within his chest made over hours, Minho's heartbeat quickening and rising to his head as it sent pulses in his eyes, causing his vision to throb and tears threatening to fall. 

Minho gripped his head, internally cursing himself for not being able to fulfill such an easy task he was asked to proceed and to collect himself. The estranged sensation remained even after his last attempt in his hospital room. The sensation of not being able to feel solid ground underneath your feet. It's like floating, only he kept falling down, and even that he couldn't feel. The only fact that remained was that his body parts were still attached to his body, but with no apparent function. And that evoked a rage of emotions to whirl inside of him all at once. His body couldn't take it, and his mind keeps screaming at him. It overwhelmed him. Everything is too much. 

Minho curled his hand into a fist as he planted it to the floor. One word managed to scathe over his lips. 

"Again." 

He lifted his head from the ground, the combination of tears and determination blazing in his eyes as he pushed himself to stand. 

That late afternoon, Hyunjin came to visit Minho, stopping in front of his door, peeking inside. There Minho was beside his bed, already preparing to attempt another act of stubbornness as he held his hand clutched to the iron side of the bed. 

"You thought once wasn't enough?" Hyunjin suddenly interrupted, causing Minho to abruptly turn around as the other invited himself in without waiting for Minho's response. "No wonder you and Jisung click so well," he concluded, more to himself than anyone else, pointing out the stubbornness both men held as a personality trait. Minho huffed. 

"Well, at least I'm trying something." the older retorted and sat back down on the bed when he felt his legs couldn't carry much weight anymore. And he didn't want to risk collapsing in front of someone again. 

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm saying you and your goal-driven personality should calm down and be careful for the sake of themselves for once." 

Hyunjin strapped his bag off his shoulder, dropping it down on the bed before sitting down beside Minho. "How's therapy?" he asked, tilting his head, concern showing in his darkened eyes and a frown engraved on his forehead. 

"Do you want the truth?" 

Hyunjin kept silent, only staring intently at Minho until he gave in. 

"Terrible." Minho finally let go of the word that whirled through his mind. 

"Everything feels terrible. I try so hard to set one step forward, but I keep falling down instead. It's like every move I make disadvantages me somehow. And it drives me crazy." 

"My mind is screaming at me and I'm tired of having to rage with all these emotions inside of me, coming up all at once. I am tired, Hyunjin. There really isn't any other way to put it. If you have suggestions, please tell me." An aggravated sigh leaves the older's mouth as he rakes a hand through his hair, shutting his eyes while his forehead creases. Hyunjin beside him stayed silent, watching Minho with a frown of his own. "To answer you, no, I don't have any suggestions. But I do want to tell you something, Lee Minho." 

"You only started last week. You can't expect immediate results because the sufferings you caught weren't small ones. The result was terrible, Minho. You were out for god knows how long and when you woke up your limbs had gone numb. Take it easy. It's not because you don't try hard enough. It's because it takes time to recover from what happened. You should learn to be patient with yourself." 

"And what if all I do doesn't work in the end? What if everything I ever fought for was in vain?" 

Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes. "There you go again, overthinking and being insecure. You know, that really doesn't suit you, Minho. Have some faith in yourself damn it." Hyunjin groaned, sprawling himself across the bed and stretching his arms above his head. "Time will show its results eventually. Have patience and, for everyone's sake, don't worry so much. You're giving us stress too like that. Please stop holding us on the edge of our seats, we might just all end up with a heart attack if you continue like this." 

Minho hit him at his side. "I thought you came here to comfort me?" 

"I am." Hyunjin turned his head toward him, holding a deriding yet played oblivious kind of look in his eyes as he rose his brows up at him. "Don't you see?" 

"Your efforts appear rather weak." Minho retorts and averts his gaze, playing an annoyed act as he scoffs. 

The taller mocks him, shaking his head from one side to the other, copying his words in mere mumbles, not actually articulating them exactly. "You're just mad because I told you the truth." Hyunjin pokes out his tongue at the other and returns to laying down. 

"Asshole," Minho snaps back. 

"You love me." Hyunjin states with a triumphant smile, his eyes closed, not continuing the argument.