ChanMin Shorts||ChanxSeungmin

~dear, seungmin~[5]

~Chapter 5~

September 17th, 2023: 8:30 PM,

"Please," Seungmin pleaded. "My job extended my shift later, and I couldn't come sooner. I just need to see that he's okay...please," he explained desperately to her.

"I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours have ended, and I can't allow you in," she replied calmly.

"I know, but...never mind," he sighed, flashing her a quick, forced smile before turning away from the desk. Deep down, he didn't want to leave, but he could tell there was no way she was gonna budge. He frustratedly ran a hand through his hair as he walked up to the automatic doors, watching them open before he stepped outside.

"Damn it," he softly shouted, leaning his back against the wall right outside the door. He saw him every single day without fail. It was his way of making sure he knew he was there. It provided a slight sense of relief just to see him okay, even if nothing about his appearance changed.

"Oh my god," he whispered as he brought his hands up to his face, wiping away the tears that quickly fell from his eyes down his cheeks. He found himself lingering by the hospital entrance, unable to summon the strength to leave.

At the same time, Chan was just wrapping up his shift. "Good night, Becca," he said, softly waving as he exited, hands tucked in the pockets of his scrubs. He took a breath as he stepped outside, feeling the pinch of the cold air against his skin; he always loved the feel of the autumn seasons.

Though he wasn't much of a smoker, it was almost a guilty pleasure for him. A doctor who is very aware of the consequences of even one small puff of the white stick, but he only indulges occasionally during days particularly stressful—his way of justifying the selfless act.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small red rectangular box. He sighed, opened the box, and drew a cigarette between his lips. After returning the pack to his pocket, he searched for his lighter and lit the cigarette, managing only one puff once before he heard a slight noise nearby.

"S-Shit," he muttered in a panic, hurriedly removing the burning stick from his mouth. He coughed, dropping it to the ground in front of him. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him as a doctor smoking—it especially couldn't get back to Dr. Kim.

He waved his hand frantically, trying to disperse the smoke around him while he turned to the sound. A taller figure stood off in the corner. "Hey, are you okay??" he asked softly as he stepped on the flame, burying his foot into the concrete to extinguish it. "Hello," he repeated gently, moving closer to him.

He could hear the faint sobs coming from the person, and considering their location right outside the hospital, he could only assume they must've heard bad news. He felt a strong urge to help them somehow. "Is there anyone I can get for you??"

"T-There isn't anyone...I-I'm fine...thank y-you," Seungmin replied, sniffing through his sobs, shaking his head, and hoping it would help him.

"Wait...Seungmin," Chan called softly, reaching for his shoulder. His voice...he would never forget the softness of that voice. He held his breath, praying it wasn't as he turned him around.

He gasped at the sight of his tear-streaked, puffy face. "Hey, come here," Chan frowned once he noticed the tears still flooding down Seungmin's cheeks.

"Doctor. Bang, wa—" Seungmin stammered, feeling his body pressed against the older's chest. Only one single sniff of his familiar scent of vanilla was enough for him to melt into his embrace.

"Shh...it's okay," Chan cooed gently. He embraced Seungmin and held him firmly against his chest while he continued to cry. Chan tightened his grip, feeling Seungmin clutch his scrub top and bury his face deeply into his chest, drenching the fabric with his tears.