❛ ━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❉~•─
As I awoke later in the evening, the light had softened to a warm dusk glow, filtering through the windows and casting a gentle light across the room. I shifted on the sofa, my body sore and slightly stiff from remaining in one position too long, despite the initial comfort. The cushions, which had supported me in sleep, now seemed to contribute to my discomfort as I stirred.
Carefully, I sat up, hearing the faint sounds of clattering and movement from the kitchen. San was busy there, the homely aromas of cooking wafting through the house, hinting at his efforts to prepare a nurturing meal. Despite the inviting smells, a wave of nausea washed over me, a cruel reminder of the delicate state of my health.
I stood up slowly, steadying myself as a wave of dizziness accompanied the nausea. I made my way toward the bedroom bathroom, moving as silently as possible. I hoped to reach the sanctuary of the bathroom without alerting San; I didn't want to interrupt his cooking or cause him concern over my state. My body reacted nervously, a mix of physical responses to the ongoing treatments and the dread of the upcoming chemotherapy session. It was a constant battle between wanting to forget its existence and the stark reality that I couldn't escape it.
Upon reaching the bathroom, I closed the door softly behind me, leaning against it for a moment as my stomach churned again. The coldness of the tile beneath my feet was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the living room. I approached the sink, gripping the edge as I tried to steady my breathing and will the nausea to pass. The reflection in the mirror showed a pale, determined face—determined to maintain some semblance of normalcy despite everything.
With a deep breath, I tried holding back the urge to be sick, focusing on calming thoughts, attempting to soothe the tumult inside. The last thing I wanted was for San to see me like this, to add to his worries or disrupt the peaceful evening he was trying to create for us.
After a few moments, feeling somewhat steadier, I splashed cold water on my face, the chill of it bringing a momentary relief. I patted my face dry with a towel, taking another deep, steadying breath. I knew I had to go back out there, to not let the chemotherapy and its effects dictate every moment of our lives.
Quietly, I opened the bathroom door, preparing to rejoin San, to offer him a smile, and to continue facing our challenges together, fortified by the love and support that had always been our strongest ally.
Gathering my strength, I opened the bathroom door slightly, preparing to make my way back to the warmth and companionship of the living room. The sounds of San moving about in the kitchen were comforting, and I did not want him to think I was worse off than I was. I steadied myself against the doorframe, taking slow, deliberate breaths to combat the lingering nausea.
Just as I stepped out, San appeared in the hallway, holding two steaming mugs. His expression changed from focused to concerned in an instant when he saw me. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry, placing the mugs down on a nearby table to free his hands.
