The Odd Doctor Out | A Drama | S. 5

915 🩺 A Trip Back In Time

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~~~

Wooyoung was so fucking nervous.

His hands were clammy, his cheeks were wet with scared tears, his body was mildly shivering, his toes wouldn't stop curling and uncurling, and laying across the couch back home with Hongjoong and Yeosang sitting nearby, but when Yang Saem instructed him to take a deep breath and close his eyes, he did.

Yang Saem's voice was gentle and soft, and not at all threatening, but it still instilled terror within him.

He wanted to hold Yeosang's hand. He wanted to hold Hongjoong's, too. At the very least, he wanted his bunny...

But with nothing but the hem of his shirt in his hands, he tried so hard to listen to the sound of Yang Saem's voice.

He was terrified. Not even in ann anxious way. There was no invisible trigger.

No, he knew exactly what he was scared of, and his body skipped over his usual symptoms, straight to those of sheer fear.

'Just listen to the sound of my voice,' Yang Saem said smoothly, and  suddenly, the sound of a match striking made him jerk. 'I want you to focus on the smell... On the sound... Can you hear the match burning? Can you picture it? Feel the warmth? Smell the smoke?'

He gulped, body shaking as he did his best, because by god, he did not want to have to go through this again. He needed this to work.

He needed to be hypnotised.

Because he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to do it again.

~~~

Yeosang was nervous.

Sitting on a chair beside Hongjoong, he stared intently at his brother laying on the couch. His body was shivering like he was cold, or perhaps even in a fever. His cheeks were mottled from crying, his lips were pursed in a line, his eyes squinted, and altogether, it overwhelmed Yeosang with a feeling of needing to fix it for him.

He wasn't sure when, but at some point, Hongjoong had reached out and taken his hand, pulling it into his lap and squeezing tight, and just one glance at him spoke multitudes of how nervous he was too.

However Wooyoung had begged them to let him try.

And so although it went against everything he felt so strongly about, he let him lay there... Shivering... Shaking... Scared... Alone...

Yang Saem moved silently, glancing over the old film photographs from over a decade ago laid out over the coffee table, until her eyes found the one nearest to her—one taken from when he and Wooyoung had been about ten, sitting in front of their old fireplace with their dog. It was one of the rare photos where Wooyoung had been smiling—albeit a half-there, still deeply sad kind of smile.