❛ ━ꜱᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ━ ❜ After their world went up in smoke following the heartbreaking loss of their child, Choi San and Jung Wooyoung's engagement shattered into pieces. Each day became a battle for survival in a sea of grief. Struggling to c...
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─•~❉ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ❉~•─
The next day, the early morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room. San was still asleep beside me, his breathing steady and peaceful. I lay there, my thoughts racing, unable to sleep or eat due to the gnawing fear of what lay ahead. The prospect of chemotherapy loomed large, each imagined side effect magnified by my anxiety. I already felt weak, and the thought of the treatment making me feel even worse was almost unbearable.
I clenched my hands, trying to steady my nerves, when suddenly, I felt a warm gush. My eyes widened in alarm as I sat up, feeling blood trickle rapidly down my lips and chin. Panic surged through me, my heart pounding as I tried to catch the blood with my hands, staining my fingers crimson.
"San," I whispered urgently, my voice trembling with fear and the need for immediate help. "San, wake up."
San stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he registered the urgency in my voice. He quickly sat up, his expression shifting from confusion to concern as he saw the blood. "Wooyoung! Oh my God, are you okay?" he exclaimed, reaching for tissues on the bedside table.
I nodded, though the fear in my eyes must have been evident. "It's a nosebleed," I managed to say, my voice shaky. "I didn't expect it to be this bad."
San moved swiftly, pressing the tissues gently to my nose and guiding me to tilt my head slightly forward. "Just breathe, Wooyoung," he instructed, his voice steady and calm despite the situation. "We've got this. It'll stop soon."
His calm demeanor helped soothe some of my panic. I focused on my breathing, trying to stay still as he applied gentle pressure. After a few moments that felt like an eternity, the bleeding began to slow, and eventually, it stopped. San handed me a fresh tissue, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said softly, his hand warm and reassuring on my shoulder. He led me to the bathroom, where I rinsed my face and carefully cleaned off the remaining traces of blood.
Looking at myself in the mirror, the reality of my situation hit me again with full force. The pale, frightened reflection staring back at me seemed like a stranger. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the day ahead.
San stood behind me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. "You're strong, Wooyoung," he said, meeting my eyes in the mirror. "We're going to get through this together, remember?"
I nodded, swallowing hard. "I remember. Thank you, San."
He smiled, his eyes filled with unwavering support. "Let's get ready. We need to head to the hospital soon."
We moved with a sense of quiet urgency, preparing for the treatment. San made sure I had everything I needed for the day, packing a bag with essentials and some comforts to make the experience as bearable as possible. His attentiveness and care were a balm to my frayed nerves.
