Seul.

(6)

Rushing through the doors of the hospital, Yunjin pants as she looks around her surroundings for her other sibling, the panic in her eyes evident with her rushed movements. She whips her head from left to right, her gaze finally spotting Jiyah—her younger sibling—sitting down with her face buried in her hands. As the redhead walked closer, Jiyah took notice of her older sister's presence.

"Unnie..." Jiyah sniffled, eyes and nose red as she looked up at Yunjin, "Ji-hoon was, he— he was shaking s-so violently a-and his eyes were turning w-white and—," the younger woman choked a sob as she spoke through hiccups and sniffles, wiping her cheeks using the dorsum of her hand.

Yunjin puts down her bag and engulfs her sister in a hug, her heart equally broken seeing how affected the girl is. "Shh, it's okay, everything is going to be fine, Ji-hoon's going to be okay," Jiyah reciprocated her sister's hug, her face buried in her sister's chest as she broke down in tears, her sniffles turning into sobs. This was the first time their little brother's condition had gotten this unpleasant, and it shook the younger.

Tracing soothing circles on her little sister's back, Yunjin combs her fingers through Jiyah's hair softly, "Have you told Mom? the others?" The younger nodded her head, sniffling lightly as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks. "Mhm, Mom's on her way, and Aunt Ji said she'll be here with Aunt Miyeon."

The redhead sighed, nodding in understanding as she and Jiyah sat down, waiting for their mother and aunts to arrive while she comforted her sibling.

Hours spent in the hospital and staying by Ji-hoon's side took a lot on Yunjin which made her way home much more tiring. It didn't help that she had to leave Kazuha abruptly earlier, only sending a message to her best friend that she'd make it up to her the next time they met.

Yunjin sighs as she lazily takes her shoes off, hanging her coat on the wooden rack mounted on the wall, and dropping her bag haphazardly on the floor of the living room. Plopping down on their shared dorm couch, Yunjin put an arm over her eyes as she lay down, the stress and fatigue of today catching up to her.

"Oh, Yunjin, you're here."

The younger woman props herself up, sitting up while holding a pillow on her lap hearing Sakura walk in. "Hey, Unnie." The latter only offered a soft smile observing how tired Yunjin was.

Walking over beside the fatigued redhead, Sakura sits at the edge of the sofa, "Rough day?" "Yeah, Ji-hoon was rushed to the hospital." Yunjin runs a hand through her hair, gently rubbing her tired eyes with her palm. It's been such a long and stressful twelve hours for her, and the only thing she wants to do is rest comfortably in her bed.

Stretching her arms out, Yunjin lets out a yawn as she stands from the couch, taking her bag with her, "I'll just head to my room, Unnie." The older woman only hums in reply, her eyes following Yunjin's back as she enters her quarters. "Sure, rest well, Yun."

_

The soft glow of the moonlight streaming down through the curtains of one of Y/n's apartments felt romantic, intimate, and inviting. Yet all of these weren't the emotions the Young Miss felt, instead, quite the opposite. After having her talk with her girlfriend—well, ex-girlfriend now—all she wanted to do was drown in her sorrow and drown in her favorite brandy remembering the events.

"My assistant mentioned you wanted to talk—" "Let's break up." Hyewon blurts out as she looks out the apartment's tall windows, cutting off Y/n mid-sentence. The latter could only blink her eyes, the deafening silence engulfing them made the Young Miss's chest tighten; heart pounding against her ribs with bated breath, and her throat dry.

Y/n collects herself as best as she can, gulping hard to try and not lose her composure, "I— u-uh, what..?" Try as she might, but her voice couldn't help but crack as she stuttered. "Let's go and see other people, Y/n." This time, Hyewon finally turns around, seeing Y/n's face with furrowed brows and a terrified look in her eyes.

Y/n was scared to lose Hyewon, after six months of being together and a year of being friends, the latter was the only person that the Young Miss could call her home. And now, hearing and getting her grip on the situation, the thought of being left all alone again petrified her to the bone.

"I—," Y/n sucked in a breath, gulping as she steadied herself, "I... respect your decision but, was there something I did wrong?"  Hyewon could only stay silent, keeping her back turned to Y/n—who anxiously stood waiting for a response—as she looked over the bright city lights of Seoul.

"I want to be with someone who... can live in the present, be with me in the moment, and someone who can enjoy what's happening currently. Not someone so hung up and... wounded over the past."

A few beats of silence go by, the tense atmosphere of the living room making Y/n's stomach churn, her heart beating a mile a minute. Finally, the older woman locks her gaze with Y/n's.

"Healing from trauma is hard, and it takes a while to overcome them. But, you can't start dealing with your scars when your walls are so high up."

Taking her purse off the glass center table, Hyewon passes Y/n as she walks towards the front door. "Goodbye, Y/n. Thank you for everything." She glances over her shoulder, taking one last look at her ex before walking out of the apartment and Y/n's life.

Pouring herself a glass of alcohol, Y/n takes it and gulps it in one go, the satisfying burn, and warmth of the beverage spreading through her chest. It had always been like this, time and time again, everyone leaves her behind in some way or another.

Grabbing the bottle of brandy off the marble counter, Y/n throws off the cap of the bottle, taking big swigs of the alcohol. She makes her way to the stairway up the bedroom, stumbling from time to time as she walks, her vision blurry and hazy with the alcohol in her system. Finally reaching her destination, Y/n opens the wooden door harshly; falling on the floor face first.

The brunette woman winces, standing up once again by her arms, and leaving the bottle of brandy spilled on the carpeted floor. Throwing herself onto the massive bed, Y/n buries her face in the covers, curling into a ball as she wept.

While the Young Miss sobbed against the silk sheets of her bed, her phone—left haphazardly beside where the spilled alcohol was—rang constantly; the sound of her ringtone filling the four walls of the room yet she chose to ignore the device, sleep and fatigue now consuming her.

_