Downfall || Seongjoong

- seventy-nine -

Hongjoong || Seonghwa

The next morning, after finally getting approval from Lia, Jongho was up and dressed before anyone else. His determination was palpable as he moved with purpose, gathering the necessary items for our visit. We all followed suit, dressing quickly and preparing ourselves for the day ahead. Jongho held onto the flowers tightly, his grip almost white-knuckled, as if they were a lifeline.

He had gone out early to get the flowers and a big teddy bear. Even though Yeosang wasn't awake or conscious, Jongho wanted to bring him something for when he does wake up. It was a gesture that spoke volumes about his hope and the depth of his feelings for Yeosang.

Lia arrived with her car to pick us up, and the drive to the hospital was calm, each of us lost in our thoughts. Jongho sat in the front seat, clutching the flowers and the teddy bear, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, but there was a sense of quiet determination among us.

When we arrived at the hospital, Lia took charge of the check-in process. We waited in the lobby, the sterile smell of the hospital filling our senses, adding to the anxiety we all felt. Lia returned with a deep breath of relief as she finally got us through the security measures. She led us down the corridors, her pace steady, as if her confidence could somehow reassure us.

We learned that Yeosang's room was number 275. As we stood at the door, a mix of emotions washed over us – anxiety, fear, hope. Lia looked at us, her expression softening with empathy. "Will you... be okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I looked at Jongho, who was holding the flowers and teddy bear with such care. His eyes were wide, reflecting a storm of emotions. "We'll be fine," I said, trying to muster as much confidence as I could. "Thank you, Lia. For everything."

She nodded, giving us a small, encouraging smile. We turned back to the door, the moment feeling monumental. With a deep breath, I placed a reassuring hand on Jongho's shoulder. "Let's go in," I whispered.

Jongho nodded, and together, we pushed open the door to room 275. The room was quiet, the only sound being the steady beep of the heart monitor. Yeosang lay in the bed, looking peaceful but frail. 

His face was pale, almost blending with the white of the hospital sheets. Tubes and wires connected him to various machines, monitoring his vital signs and administering necessary treatments.

He was attached to a ventilator, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was breathing, albeit softly and barely. A feeding tube ran from a bag of nutrients, ensuring that he received the sustenance his body needed in his comatose state. His eyes were closed, and his expression was serene, almost as if he were merely sleeping.

The sight of him brought a lump to my throat, and I could see the same reaction in everyone else. Jongho approached the bed slowly, placing the flowers in a vase on the bedside table and the teddy bear next to Yeosang. He gently took Yeosang's hand, his eyes welling up with tears. "We're here, Yeosang," he whispered. "We're all here."

We all worked together to help Jongho place the flowers in the vase and arrange the teddy bear beside Yeosang. There was a sense of quiet determination among us, each action deliberate and filled with care. The room felt somber yet hopeful, as if our presence alone could somehow make a difference.

Jongho then settled into a chair near Yeosang's bed, his eyes never leaving Yeosang's face. I could see the struggle in his eyes, the desperate need to reach out and touch him, to hold him close, but also the paralyzing fear that doing so might shatter his already fragile hope. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly before he clasped them together tightly in his lap.

Tears welled up in Jongho's eyes, glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights. He eventually covered his face with his palms, his shoulders shaking as he let his tears fall. Through his muffled sobs, I could barely make out the words he whispered to himself, "I'm sorry..."

Despite how soft and muffled his words were, we all knew what he was saying. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of Jongho's grief pressing down on all of us. Yunho moved closer, placing a comforting hand on Jongho's shoulder, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Hongjoong, who was usually so composed, looked away, biting his lip as he fought to keep his own emotions in check. Mingi stood at the foot of the bed, his jaw clenched tightly, his eyes fixed on Yeosang as if willing him to wake up. Lia watched from the doorway, her expression a mix of empathy and helplessness.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Jongho," I said softly, stepping closer to him. "We're here for you. Yeosang knows we're here for him. We won't give up on him."

As the hours passed, we stayed by Yeosang's side, refusing to leave. The sterile scent of the hospital clung to the air, the rhythmic beeping of the machines the only sound breaking the heavy silence. The doctor came in several times, checking on Yeosang and eyeing us with a mix of concern and impatience.

Eventually, it was late into the night, and the doctor made it clear that visiting hours were long over. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice firm yet sympathetic. "But you all need to leave. It's hospital policy."

Jongho, who had not moved from Yeosang's bedside, looked up at the doctor with red, tear-streaked eyes. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't leave him. Not now."

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, but—"

Jongho's desperation grew, and he stood up, his hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. "Please, doctor. Just let me stay. I promise I won't cause any trouble. I just need to be here with him. I need to be here if he wakes up."

The doctor sighed, clearly torn. "It's against the rules, and it's not healthy for you to stay here all night."

Jongho dropped to his knees, his voice breaking. "Please. I'll do anything. Just let me stay with him. I can't leave him alone. Not like this."

The doctor glanced at the rest of us, seeing the silent support in our eyes. Yunho stepped forward. "Doctor, Jongho needs this. We all do. If you could make an exception, just this once..."

The doctor looked at Jongho, who was still on his knees, tears streaming down his face. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Alright," he said softly. "But only Jongho can stay. The rest of you need to leave."

Jongho's face lit up with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, thank you so much," he said, standing up shakily.

We all gave Jongho reassuring pats on the back and words of encouragement before reluctantly making our way out of the room. As I turned back one last time, I saw Jongho settling into the chair beside Yeosang, his hand hovering just above Yeosang's, as if he still couldn't bring himself to touch him.

Outside, the rest of us stood in the dimly lit hallway, the weight of the day pressing heavily on our shoulders. Hongjoong let out a deep sigh, looking at the floor. "He needs this," he murmured. "He needs to be with Yeosang."

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I know it's short but there is a chapter coming right now (I need to switch perspective and I hate doing it mid chapter)