Drowning in the Distance

VII | Y/N

"Just give me ten minutes." I say, shutting the door behind me and leaving Haechan and Jaemin standing out in the hallway. My eyes dart around his room as my app downloads onto his phone, waiting for it to complete, spotting the note I slipped under his door this morning laid on top of his bed. I look down at it, rereading the words that I'd written.

Text me when you have the med cart. (119) 127 066. I'll be over this afternoon to set everything up.

I knew that him actually getting the cart would be hard, mainly because Haechan and Doyoung are clearly not on the best of terms, so he wouldn't advocate for him, but he went above his head and managed to charm Dr. Moon into agreeing. I assume that Taeil couldn't see how things could possibly get worse, and so agreed on the basis of progress. I pick up the note, noticing a tiny hand-drawn cartoon along the edge of the post-it, of an angry Doyoung in his signature colourful scrubs, pushing a med cart and screaming: "Don't make me regret this!". I can practically see the smirk that played upon his pink lips after hearing that. I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips as I put the note back down on the bleached sheets and walk over to the actual med cart. I rearrange a few pill bottles, making sure, one more time, that everything is in the same chronological order as what I programmed into the app after cross-referencing his Donkey Kong–covered regimen. As much as it pained me, I decided not to put them in alphabetical order too. I think that he'd be most likely to do everything if it was easy. For me, alphabetical and chronological made perfect sense, but I can see why it would confuse someone else. Turning away from the cart, I look over at his laptop to see how much longer for the download to be complete from the link I sent him. I emailed it to him as soon as we'd planned how this whole thing was gonna work, as it meant I didn't have to bring my own laptop into the room in order to complete the download to his phone. I check the percentage of completion, trying not to breathe more than I have to in this B. cepacia-laden room. Eighty-eight. My heart lurches, pounding against the wall of my chest as I hear noise outside the doorway. I yank my hand away from the keyboard, staring anxiously at the door, worried that we've been caught. Please don't be Doyoung. Please don't be Doyoung. He should be on his lunch break, but if he's back already, getting a head start on his Monday-afternoon rounds, he'll murder me, absolutely no doubt about it. Haechan's clear footsteps echo back and forth, back and forth, in front of the doorway, and I creep to the door, almost pressing my ear up against it. A sigh of relief exits my lips, hearing only the two of their voices as the download progresses.

"You wiped everything down, right?" I hear Jaemin say, clearly just as nervous as I am. I know that the newbie on the ward is nervous too, he just won't admit it.

"Of course I did. Twice, just to be safe," Haechan shoots back. "This clearly wasn't my idea, you know." I adjust the isolation gown over the top of my disposable scrubs, and yank open the door, squinting at them through my goggles. Jaemin spins around on his skateboard to face me, a teasing snigger slipping past his lips. "Man, Y/N. Did I tell you how goddamn fine you look today?" He and Donghyuck break out into obnoxious laughter for the fourth time over my makeshift hazmat suit. I send them both an icy glare, waiting until I know they can feel the harshness of my gaze, before glancing down the hallway.

"Still clear?" I ask. He pushes off on his skateboard and slowly rolls past the nurses' station with a whirr on the hospital floors, peering over the desk as he goes. He shoots a thumbs-up towards me, opening his mouth to speak but he's cut off by the other boy's words.

"Just hurry up." Haechan speaks for him, voicing Jaemin's exact thoughts, who nods in agreement. I glance between them both before my lips move in response.

"I'm almost done!" I say, ducking back into the room and closing the door behind me. It should be done any second now.

I eye the med cart, breathing a sigh of contentment over how meticulously organized it is. Just how it should be. As my gaze swings around, turning back to look at the download's progress, I see the desk that his laptop is sitting on, which is so... chaotic. Chaotic is the only word I can use to describe the absolute mess that sits atop of the wooden table. I stride across the room and grab handful after handful of coloured pencils, putting them safely back in the pencil holder they belong in. I straighten up the mass of magazines and sketchbooks that cover the desk, making sure they are in order by size, and as I do, a piece of paper falls out onto the floor. It's a cartoon boy, a boy who looks a lot like Haechan, holding a pair of balloons and forcing air into deflated and shrivelled-looking lungs, his face red, sweating profusely from the effort. I grin, reading the caption under it: "Just breathe". It's amazing. Reaching out, I gently trace Haechan's lungs, like I do with Yeji's drawing. My gloved fingertips land on the small drawing of Haechan, his sharp features, his unruly hair, his deep brown eyes, and the same burgundy sweatshirt that he was wearing on the roof that night. All that's missing is the smile, that handsome, lopsided smile. I look up at the almost bare wall, noticing he has only an old cartoon hung up right above his bed. I suppose he thought he wouldn't be sticking around for long. Grabbing a tack from a small jar over on his desk, I pin his own, hand-drawn cartoon on the wall below it. There. Much better. The laptop dings behind me and I blink, jumping in shock, quickly pulling my hand away. Upload complete. I spin around, rushing to his desk and unplugging his phone from his laptop. Picking up his phone, I pull open the door and hold out it out to the non-cartoon, real-life, Haechan. He stretches to take it from me, fixing his face mask with his other hand.