Love and Let Go ↔ Yang Jungwon

16

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙○♡๑•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•๑♡○•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

A room of white. She stepped into the room timidly. Her heart sped up as entered, her eyes falling on all the equipment around her.

She feared the worst. Anxiety consumed her as she quietly took her seat on the hospital cot.

She fidgeted with her fingers. Silence soaked up the room.

"Miss Kwon, it's been a while."

A hint of concern and warmth aced the doctor's voice. Dr. Seo entered the room, her clean, white coat hanging from her shoulders. She had been her family's doctor since forever and Giselle was grateful to her because of that.

She looked up, afraid. Letting out a shaky breath, she softly asks, "It worsened, hadn't it?"

It was more of a statement than a question. To her surprise, her voice was shockingly steady. Not even a slight quiver was detectable. Perhaps it was because she always knew that it was going to happen. She couldn't be afraid, she had to stare at the possibility straight in the eye.

Or maybe it was because there was no point of denying reality.

Dr. Seo winced, a break in her usual calm disposition. Hesitating, she shuffled through the documents and held them out. "I'm sorry, Giselle. Your condition is very critical and at this rate, it would only get much worse. This is only the beginning."

Critical. Worse. Those words rang in her ears, blocking out anything else the doctor could've said. Shaking, she reached for the papers warily. Her eyes skimmed through the diagnosis.

Any courage she had left her. A mountain of helplessness crashed onto her shoulders. No. Her fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, to the point where she felt like she wasn't in control of them anymore.. Her nightmare was coming true.

She could only stare at the papers, both in shock and distress, as if it would change right before her eyes. But when she blinked, the words in bold remained the same.

Her vision blurred, her surroundings becoming distant figures in her sight. She shuts her eyes as she feels the tears she was trying so hard to conceal squeezing out of her tear ducts.

Her breathing became unsteady, up to the point she was gasping for air as emotions consumed her. Shock. Disbelief. And utter perturbation.

When she opened her eyes, all around her were blurry, white blobs struggling to become clearer in her vision. When her vision improved, she looked down to the papers, only to see her tears blotting the paper.

Karma seemed to be striking back at her, she thought miserably.

Throat hoarse and dry, she looks up at Dr.Seo, "How much time do I have left?" she manages to croak out through her cry fest.

The doctor avoided her eyes, "Three months, four if you're lucky," she admits, watching as a familiar crushed expression fell on her patient's face. It was the hardest part of her job, telling someone they were destined to die. Uncomfortable, she pushes her glasses higher on her nose bridge. "I could send a message to other hospitals to get a transplant..." she trails off.

Three months. Three. She shook her head. "I don't want someone to die because of me," she states quietly.

"But-"

"It wouldn't work for long anyway. There's a big chance that my body could reject new lungs," she fixed a small smile on her face, "It'll only buy me time."