𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐡𝐡𝐣

two.

For the next week, he almost forgets his encounter with you, despite seeing you almost every other day. His mind is more focused on trying to find out who he's been and whose voice he'd heard before he woke up. He tried remembering anything about himself—even if it was just his last name, but to no avail. He'd end up with a throbbing headache and have to do physical therapy with the splitting pain pestering him the entire time.

"Hyunjin, you don't have to remember everything right now. There's a good chance it won't come back naturally for a couple of months," You try to reassure him, but your kind smiles and sympathetic words only egged him on. Something about how you wanted to help him irritated him, and made him feel as if he couldn't do it himself. Although he almost always couldn't do whatever it was, he didn't need a constant reminder.

Chan taps his knee, watching it fly up out of reflex, a proud smile on his face. Jotting something down, he looks at Hyunjin, "You ready to leave the hospital?"

The taller brunet nods silently, dampening the older's mood. Truth be told, he did want to leave. He wanted nothing more than to get out of these white walls the moment his eyes opened—but he wasn't exactly excited to leave with you.

Chan huffs, turning away from the coma patient, his eyes dimmer than when before. You were a pretty bubbly person, and all he could hope was that you'd brighten up Hyunjin and that the latter wouldn't bring you down instead.

Entering the hospital, you give Chan a nervous look, taking the list he held from his hands. Reading over Hyunjin's schedule, you were thankful there wasn't too much you'd have to take him to. Hesitantly, you skipped to him, your eyes crinkle, doing your best to come off as friendly. You wanted this to be a good experience for him after his sleep.

"Hi Hyunjin, are you ready to go?" your voice feigning confidence as you go around to wheel him out of the hospital. He nods, and you start pushing his chair towards the exit before he groans and begins propelling himself forward.

Growling, he glared at you, "I can push myself. Thanks," a deathly and threatening tone in his voice that made you rethink the prospect of allowing this man into your home.

You can't help but note the apologetic look in Chan's eyes when you bid him goodbye.

Quickly, you were learning that he's the type to refuse any help offered to him. He'd opened the door, lifted himself out of the wheelchair, and walked into the car on his own before you could even get the chance to lend a hand. You frown when he swats your hand away, buckling himself in and ushering you to move out of the way, so he could close his door, on his own. Whatever you think to yourself, proceed to fold the wheelchair and stuff it into your car trunk with minimal difficulty for someone your size.

Sliding into your seat, you shoot him a look that screams bear with me, and you're disappointed, yet unsurprised when his face hardens at the sight of you and turns away from your crestfallen eyes. Deciding not to lose hope so quickly, you purse your lips and turn back to the steering wheel. You connect your phone to your aux cable—a checkered black and white braided cord you'd been gifted by an ex but never had the heart to throw out, especially since you didn't fancy the idea of wasting a good two dollars and fifty cents on a new one.

Temporarily disabling your passcode, you hold your phone out to him, urging him to take it. "Pick some music, find out what kind you liked, or find a new taste I guess," the genuine crinkle beside your eyes compelling him to take the phone from you.

He clicks an artist, and a steady rap track starts playing, filling your ears with the pleasant beats and the heart-wrenching lyrics of the track. You quickly recognize the song, If You Want Love, by NF, an artist you'd enjoyed on the radio but never searched for yourself, but you were glad to see Hyunjin's look of content, bopping his head ever so gently and tapping his finger to the beats of the rapper's discography.

"If you like rap, I think you'll like 3racha and Agust D, they're trending right now," you suggest, a twinkle in your eyes when you see him nod in a way that says maybe and happily turn your head back to the wheel. Chuckling nervously, you pick the wheel with your nails, "I was going to ask if you've heard of Eminem... but well, y'know..."

You almost swore you heard a chuckle, but forget about it when you see his stone-cold expression resting in the rearview mirror.

—-

"Okay, Hyunjin... Or would you like being called Jin better?" you pry, tapping your chin and rolling your eyes discreetly when he shrugs stiffly, his crutch assisting him in standing. You tried to help him get comfortable, but he insisted that he was fine and could do it himself if he wanted to. "Well, I don't know what kind of food you like, so if you have any idea, feel free to let me know. I have a lot of reheatable food in the fridge, and snacks you can take your pick from."

He nods, keeping his brows furrowed in an utmost intimidating, and dare you say, attractive way. You contemplate helping him sit, and ultimately decide to pull out a chair for him. It's disheartening the way he scoffs, before limping away from you, wobbling to support himself with the one crutch he swore he didn't need when you'd given it to him.

"Hyunjin, if this is going to work, I need you to try and work with me here, okay?" you plead, your voice strong, and it almost makes him want to apologize. Almost. What would he be apologizing for? He didn't ask or request your help, you decided you wanted to be Ms. Save The Day, so you'd deal with the consequences. Your face dimmed when you see the uninterested look painted on his features, concluding you'd bring it up again another time. "Fine. The TV remote's in the couch cushion. I don't care if you mess with anything. Let me know if there's something you need or that I can help you with."

It's not surprising when he doesn't respond, leaving you to guess whether he'd call you, but you could imagine you'd walk out here to find him trying to do something for himself.

"You're probably being too pushy, he just got out of a coma last week..." you convince yourself, balling up your fists and holding them to your head. You mostly understood that you had a good personality, and you weren't known for making people uncomfortable, but you hoped that you hadn't volunteered to take care of a stuck-up snob with no manners. For once, you honestly wanted to be the problem—it'd be easier to deal with.

Settling on your bed, you dial up your closest friend, Han Jisung, a smile breaking onto your face when you hear his quick speaking greet you on the other end, "[Y/N], you picked him up today, right? Is he a jerk? Super sweet? Is he being rude to you? Do I need to call Changbin, so we can beat him up for you? Or—"

"Hi Jisung," you chuckle, shaking your head at his hyper antics, "And I'd prefer if you didn't beat up my guest—I mean, I'm volunteering to do this. I signed up for his... attitude, I guess," tiredness in your voice that Jisung had only heard when you had dealt with him for a few too many hours in a row.

"What's up with him?"

Sighing, you rub your head in frustration, your eyes closed and brows furrowed, "It's probably because he's adjusting. He just... doesn't want my help? I mean, he can barely walk, and he didn't even want to use a crutch. But, Chan told me that it's not uncommon for there to be mood swings or different attitudes after waking up from a coma, so it might only be temporary."

"Well, tell me if he does anything you don't like. You know I've always got your back," you nod, before realizing he can't see you, making you slap your hand against your forehead, "You nodded, didn't you?" and you nod again, hearing his laughter and cracking up with him.

You were thankful for a friend like Jisung, someone who could cheer you up so easily and lighten up the room—even if he didn't always want to be there. You wondered if you should introduce him to your 'new roommate' one of these days.

Hanging up on Han, your calm for a minute, a bored silence overtaking the room. Then, there's a sudden, loud, clattering crash, making you jump out of your skin and rush to the living room.

"Hyunjin!"