Drowning in the Distance

III | Y/N

I pull on the blue AffloVest, snapping it into place around my torso with Doyoung's help. It looks an awful lot like a life vest, except for the remote coming out of it. For the quickest moment I let it be a life vest, and I stare out the window, picturing myself in Hawaii on a boat with Karina and Tzuyu, the afternoon sun glowing on the horizon. The seagulls chirping, the sandy beach in the distance, the shirtless surfers- and then, despite myself, I think of Donghyuck. I blink, Hawaii fading away as the barren trees outside my window swing into view.

"So, Donghyuck. He's a CFer, then?" I ask, though that's obvious. Why am I asking? Why do I want to know? No. No, I don't want to know. Doyoung helps me clip the last strap into place. I pull at the shoulder of the vest so it doesn't rub into my bony collarbone.

"A CFer and then some. B. cepacia. He's part of the new drug trial for Cevaflomalin. Been here two weeks and already given me hell on earth, mostly about his name of all things! I mean what kind of nickname is Haechan, anyway?" He reaches over, flicking the machine on and giving me a look. My eyes widen and I look over at my giant tub of hand sanitizer. I was that close to him and he has B. cepacia? It's pretty much a death sentence for people with CF. He'll be lucky to make it a few more years. And that's if he's as dedicated to his regimen as I am. It doesn't seem fair, really. To have a disease that more than halves the average life expectancy at the best of times, then to contract another that means you won't live another five years? God, it's depressing. My chest pangs, and not from the vest beginning to vibrate, but from the ache in my heart. Why do I care so much? I focus on the vest. I can feel the mucus in my lungs starting to slowly loosen. "You contract that and you can kiss the possibility of new lungs good-bye." He adds, eyeing me cautiously. "Stay away." I nod. Oh, I fully intend to do just that. I need that extra time. Besides, he was way too full of himself to be my type. Words fly from my mouth before I can really process what I'm saying.

"The trial-" I start to say, looking over at Doyoung and holding up my hand to pause the conversation as I cough up a wad of mucus. He nods in approval and hands me a standard-issue pale-pink bedpan. I spit into it and wipe my mouth before talking. "What are his odds?" The man exhales, shaking his head before meeting my gaze.

"Nobody knows. The drug's too new." His look says it all, though. I nod solemnly. Does he know that? We fall silent except for the chugging of the machine, the vest vibrating away. Doyoung clears his throat, breaking the tension. "You're set. Need anything before I hit the road?" I grin at him, giving him a pleading look.

"A milkshake?" He rolls his eyes, putting his hands on his hips in mock-attitude. He's always been a bit of a hard-ass on the outside, but once you get to know him, he's a big softie. It's always reassuring, coming to Saint Evangeline's, because I know that no matter what's changed health wise, I can always count on Kim Doyoung to bring a smile to my face.

"What do I look like to you? Room service?"

"Gotta take advantage of the perks, Doie!" I say, which makes him laugh. He huffs in faux-annoyance and leaves, and I sit back, the AffloVest making my whole body shake as it works. My mind wanders, and I picture Donghyuck's reflection in the glass of the NICU, standing just behind me with a daring smile on his face. B. cepacia. That's rough. But walking around the hospital without a mask on? It's no wonder he got it in the first place, pulling stunts like that. I've seen his type in the hospital more times than I can count. The careless type, rebelling in a desperate attempt to defy their diagnosis before it all comes to an end. It's not even original. I think about Doyoung's words, so Haechan, huh? I didn't miss what he said in the viewing room either, about a 'stunt' he pulled last week. I can't help but wonder what he'd done. I assume, something stupid that aligns with the rebel type.

"All right." Doyoung says, bringing me not one but two milk shakes, like the absolute legend he is. My lips part in shock and then I break into a grin. "This should hold you over for a bit." He puts them on the table next to me, and I smile up at his familiar kind eyes. He's a constant. He's always been a constant in my life, and for that I'm grateful.