Your Desire, My Pain

Chapter 3: Never Alone, Open Up

Reaching for the hand that laid lifelessly by his side. He took it in his, the usual warmth in them gone; his heart aching as he told himself to brush over that detail. "I'm so glad I haven't lost you completely." He whispered into the still girls hand, "Knowing you can hear me is enough. I'm thankful enough."

Again, he was met with silence. To which he had to let out a small pout

Wooyoung had to mentally smack himself the second time that day for naturally awaiting the younger's response. He knew that hope was slim, but how ambitious could one be to dare hope for the impossible.

Nonetheless, he allowed himself to hold onto that fleeting spark of hope.

"You'll always have me, for real this time. I won't ever leave again. Never, for the rest of my life. You said as long as you have me for the rest of yours, nothing else matters." He murmured, eyebrows furrowed. "Right? Be a woman of your words. You broke your promise by the way, but I'll get back at you later, since I'm so nice." The chuckle he let out is hollow and purely out of self-pity, yet he was afraid if he acknowledged it, his façade would crack.

The boy girl to always tell him how pretty his smile was, and how warm his laughter sounded when she wasn't making fun of it.

Therefore, Wooyoung decided, that was all he was ever going to do from now on.

Maybe someday, when he's talked to himself enough—Charlotte would get fed up and finally decide to rise from that godforsaken bed to respond to him out of annoyance. It had worked plenty of times before, surely it would work this time as well, wouldn't it?

The younger girl's patience was as thin as a thread, yet as strong as a Dinosaur? But surely she wouldn't be able to hold back for that long; and all Wooyoung had to do was visit everyday until her nerves got the better of her—right? It would be like nothing has changed, and Charlotte was just temporarily asleep.

One day, those eyes will open again; and the first words to leave her mouth would be her usual trademark; of telling Wooyoung how much of a stupid person he was while saying these things and laugh, for pestering her when she wasn't able to talk back—right?

The flickering spark of hope in Wooyoungs eyes were so small; if one blinked, they would have missed it. But the boy squeezed the hand in his, blinking away his unshed tears, and placed a kiss on the back of her palm.

A spark was all he needed.

No one had warned him that being sixteen was ever going to be this hard.

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"Sannie! Did you eat?"

"Oh. Hi, young-ah." The boy flashed him a small smile from his position by the end of the hospital bed, taking notes on his tab. Wooyoung slid the door close behind him, dropping his plastic bag of takeout on a nearby coffee table. Approaching him, he stopped by his side and stared at the boy on top of the bed. "How is she?"

San had never known how to properly answer that question. For every single day in the past year, Wooyoung wouldn't fail to ask every time he came—and San had to struggle with devising a different alternative of the same answer each time. Well, but still no sign of improvement? She's alive, but it's worse than death?

"She's well, as usual. Nothing's going wrong, so that's good news." He tried to spin it in a way that would relieve the older. Instantly, it worked, because Wooyoung let out a relieved sigh. "That's good"

He then patted the seat next to him and San sat down with an intense stare at his arm "Did you-"

Wooyoung who was rambling on, dropping his backpack by his feet. He was still in his school uniform, indicating that he'd come here straight after class—which had been almost always the case every single day for the past year, San made sure to note.