broken infinity ➳ yeonji

Ten

The next few weeks consisted of Yeji going in and out of the hospital, its white walls and floors becoming more and more familiar to her by each passing day. And by the same passing days, Yeonjun's condition became worse.

He was moved to the ICU, and the nurses came in and out of his room, but the visitors were kept at bay, and Yeji was left there to sit and hold his hand and watch the clock and listen to the beeping of the machines, and wait.

She would leave the room and go and sit outside his door, and she would weep, and she would pray, and she would ask the nurses to please let her see him - even if it wasn't visiting hours, even if only for five minutes, because she would never get over this, she would never be able to stop thinking about him, wondering about him, and she didn't want to ever lose him.

She had to wait for his color to come back, his heartbeat to become steady, his body to become warm and his breath to become normal.

But that never seem to come.

At home, Yeji had never felt more alone. The nurses, the machines, the beeping and the doctors all told her that they were doing everything they could, and she believed them. But at the same time, a small part of her didn't.

If they were trying so hard to help him, why is he still sick? If they're trying so hard to help him, why is he getting worse?

Everyday, Yeji could see the obvious changes in Yeonjun's complexion. The beige of his skin had turned a pale, unnatural yellow, and he was covered in cold sweat.Every night, she comes home to an empty apartment, the silence of the house amplified by Yeji's pounding heart.

Days turned to weeks, and then into months. Just as the doctors had anticipated, Yeonjun's condition deteriorated at an alarming rate. Yeji was by his side for every waking moment, reading to him, holding his hand, singing to him, anything to keep him from being alone.

To Yeonjun, he didn't care that he didn't get to see the passing seasons and the changing leaves outside the window. All he cared about was Yeji. As long as she was there, he had the strength to keep fighting.

Yeji on the other hand, not so much.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was slowly losing hope. Seeing Yeonjun laying lifelessly like that broke her heart. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, and she could do nothing to stop them from falling. She would just have to bury them and move on, she thought.

But, that didn't feel right.

The pain in her chest became a daily occurrence, and her joints ached more and more with each passing day. She became less and less social, more and more reclusive.

"Can you believe what Lia told me today?" Yeji asked, her hand grasping Yeonjun's pale ones tightly. "She said that pickles and marshmallows are a good combination! God, she's became more insane than me!"

Yeonjun laughed weakly, "That's super random."

"I know, right?" Yeji rolled her eyes, standing up as she cracked her back. Her back was sore after sitting on the hard hospital chair with no backrest. She then sat next to him on the bed, careful not to accidentally sit on him. "Pickles are bad on their own, God!"

"Come on, they're not that bad," Yeonjun commented, his eyes closing shut.

Small conversations like these are the only things that can make Yeji's days better. It's what gives her hope; hope that Yeonjun would get better, hope that Yeonjun would defeat his dumb disease and smile brightly like he used to, hope that Yeonjun and her could live happily forever, hope that Yeonjun was actually her 'forever.'

The doctors came and went. The nurses came and went. And on one faithful sunny morning, when the sun shone bright through the window and Yeji was sitting in the chair next to Yeonjun's bed, the man had a big smile on his face.

"What are you smiling about?" Asked Yeji with a soft smile.

Yeonjun shook his head, "I have good news!"

"What good news?" Yeji asked, intrigued.

"I'm getting better, Yeji-ah!"

— chap end
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