attention | gyuricky

fourteen.

The doctors approve his discharge from the hospital four days later, after making sure he's adequately educated on how to use an epinephrine pen and the importance of keeping one with him at all times, as well as the precautions he needs to take to keep his cast clean and dry.

The past four days have been boring enough to drive him to near delirium, alleviated only by visits from Taerae, Gunwook and Junhyeon who come bearing snacks and street food and scoldings ranging from "why weren't you more careful" to "should have died, good riddance". Yunseo comes by one of the evenings too, with some fruit and lots of concern, and a bunch of his architecture classmates who tell him their teacher has already granted him an extension of however long he needs, to Gyuvin's great relief.

Under normal circumstances Gyuvin would be glad to leave; hospitals are very decidedly not his favourite place in the world considering the relative lack of entertainment and good food or really anything other than sick people, but as the doctor goes through the discharge proceedings at the front counter he almost finds himself wishing he could stay here longer.

Gyuvin hasn't seen Ricky since he left the hospital the night he was admitted. He hadn't expected to. Something strange wells up in his throat whenever he thinks about his roommate as of late. It used to be easy for Gyuvin to hate him, to convince himself Ricky was a bad person for treating him the way he did ever since the first day he moved in. 

It's a good coping mechanism he's developed. Hating someone who hates him doesn't make them hate him less, but it sure as hell makes it feel less shitty. There are just too many things he's learned about Ricky recently that make it hard for Gyuvin to think unkindly of him the way he's been forcing himself to do for weeks now. Months, even.

He needs to pay a visit to Zhanghao. Gyuvin makes a mental note of this as he packs up his bag to leave, slinging his duffel bag over his left shoulder instead of his right like he usually does. Taerae will be mad when he finds out Gyuvin left the hospital on his own without anyone to walk with him, but since the nurses discharged him early he didn't think it was necessary to bother anyone to-

Gyuvin stops in his tracks, almost dropping his bag. Ricky's waiting around the entryway, spinning a car key round and round his finger. His hair's styled today, as it usually is and unlike that night he came to Gyuvin's rescue, and he looks up as he notices Gyuvin, his expression unchanging. "Let's go. I'll drive you back."

"H-how did you know I was..." Gyuvin follows him implicitly as Ricky turns away to walk towards the car park, still reeling from shock.

"They called me before they discharged you."

"Wha- you're my emergency contact?"

Ricky gives him a withering look. "Would you rather your mom come and drive you back?"

"No, no! Thanks for coming," Gyuvin says quickly. "Sorry I had to bother you again. You could have put down Taerae's number or so-"

"Don't have it."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

Ricky stops by a sleek black car parked near the far end of the car park. It's a two-door and clearly a luxury brand, an Aston Martin? Gyuvin's never really been good at recognising vehicles. The doors open automatically and Ricky walks over to take Gyuvin's duffel bag from his shoulder without saying anything.

"Get in."

The inside of the car is smooth black upholstery and smells faintly of leather and pine, and Gyuvin struggles a little bit with pulling the seatbelt down and getting it over his head one-handed. Ricky gets into his side of the car just then and the doors close, soundless. Definitely expensive as hell.

"Sorry," Gyuvin says, still bickering with the seatbelt. "Just give me a moment-"

Ricky puts one hand on the center console and reaches over Gyuvin's shoulder, taking the seatbelt clasp from his hand and pulling it easily over his head, slotting it into the buckle. Gyuvin's stunned for a long moment by the sudden proximity and how cold Ricky's fingers are as they brush against his hand, but he finds it in him to stutter out a thank you as the car pulls out of the parking lot.

It's a fifteen minute drive back to the university campus and other than music playing from the stereo system turned down low enough he can barely tell what song it is, and the hardly audible sound of engine revving, it's silent, which normally is the case when Gyuvin's around Ricky but for today just doesn't seem quite right.

"I'm sorry," he says, fiddling with the gauze at the edge of his cast that's beginning to fray, keeping his eyes in his own lap.

"About?"

"I don't know, everything. I'm sorry for bothering you all the time. I just- I had this idea in my head, you know, coming into university? I wanted to be best friends with my roommate and do all kinds of things together. I guess it wasn't fair for me to have those expectations of you. Of anyone, really." Gyuvin reluctantly stops pulling at his cast, for fear that it'll fall apart before he even makes it home. "You have the right to hate anyone you want. I'm sorry I didn't understand that,"

Ricky's silent for more than a minute, and Gyuvin doesn't look up to try to read his face. He's never been able to, anyway.

"I don't hate anyone," he says finally. Ricky's always been soft-spoken, but it's the first time Gyuvin's ever realised how gentle he sounds when he speaks. "I don't hate you. I just don't want you to think of me as a friend."

Gyuvin knows he's pushing it, but while there's a temporary olive branch hanging between them, he's going to take the chance. "Is there a reason why?"

"Because I'm not someone you can rely on," Ricky answers. "I don't want to let people down."

Gyuvin thinks of every single time Ricky's helped him; buying him breakfast when he was hungover, coming all the way to the club to bring him home when he was drunk, finding him at the campus and sending him to the hospital after hearing five seconds of a distress call, and now, showing up at the hospital to drive him home so he wouldn't have to squeeze onto public transport with an injured arm. "But you are reliable. You've been there for me every time-"

"You can't think like that," Ricky cuts him off. "That's exactly what I didn't want. I told you I'm not a good friend to have. Can't you just listen for once?"

Whatever fragile connection they'd established earlier is gone; Ricky's clearly on guard again, and Gyuvin gives up trying to say anything more. The ride is silent for the rest of the journey back, and he insists on carrying his own bag back up to the dorm room. It's a Wednesday afternoon and he's technically excused from lessons until Friday, but he plans to start attending classes again by tomorrow. 

He's had a long enough break. Architecture isn't an easy major, and Gyuvin's not a wild enough prodigy he can get by with skipping so many classes in a row.

For the rest of today, though, he's free. He dials a number into his phone and calls, stepping outside into the corridor so Ricky doesn't overhear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Zhanghao, it's Gyuvin."

"Oh, Gyuvin-ah, you're back from the hospital? Are you feeling better?"

"I just got discharged an hour ago, and I'm fine now other than my cast. Thanks for your concern, Hao."

"Good to hear. Junhyeon's been worried sick about you the past couple of days, you know? He's unbearable the way he talks about you every hour. I'm glad you're feeling better. Is there a reason you called me?"

"Yes, actually. I need to ask you about something. It's not a very nice topic, so you're allowed to say no if you want to, okay?"

"You're making it sound horrible. What's going on?"

"I'll ask you about it in real life. When can we meet?"