Oasis (A KaiSoo Fanfic)

Chapter 18 | Blood

I couldn't help it. I had to. 

My parents would be ashamed of me. My doctor and nurse Seohyun would sure look at me differently. But I knew Kyungsoo would be the most disappointed of them all. 

But I couldn't help it. I had to do it because I was desperate. I needed to feel something, anything, even if it was pain. I needed to feel something other than what I was feeling at that time. 

Something about the feeling of blood trickling down my arm felt good, relieving even. It took away all the bad shit in my life as it ran down my skin, dragged it along with it. I would sigh after every new cut and rest my back against the bathroom wall. It felt so good.

I hated to kill the sun, but it felt so good.

Quickly, I cleaned up my arm and any surrounding areas that the blood dripped on with a few meshed together and damp paper towels. Once the obvious traces were gone, I threw the towels away, burying them under the other trash inside the basket, and walked out of the bathroom casually, discreetly pulling my sweatshirt sleeve over my arm. When I returned to the room, Kyungsoo was sitting on his bed with his legs crossed over one another, scribbling away in his journal again.

"Hey." He smiled.

"Hey, hyung," I said briefly, my voice coming out as almost a mumble. Needless to say, things had become awkward between us again. I'd like to think that had he just put his fears aside and said he loved me back it wouldn't have been so bad, but then I'd be lying to myself. I hated to admit it, but I guess all the adults were right when they said sex is a big responsibility. 

"Where were you?" he asked curiously.

"In the bathroom," I answered. "My dinner didn't agree with me." Don't scowl at me for lying to him. When you look at it technically, I didn't even lie actually. I just left out a big part of the truth.

"Oh." There was something about the tone in which he spoke, something that said: "I know you're holding back." But Kyungsoo always talked like that, especially with me. I sat on my bed and pulled the covers back, shifting around to get comfortable for the night. "You're birthday's tomorrow," he said, sounding cheerful once again. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah," I replied with a little, tired sigh. "I guess so."

"Well, I know you're going to love my present to you," he said, smiling widely and boastfully, his journal now on the nightstand. "If you don't, I'll be highly disappointed."

"You didn't have to get me anything, hyung," I said, pausing and making eye contact with him. "My birthday doesn't even feel important anymore."

"Maybe to you, but it is to me and to your parents, so you'll just have to put on a brave face and suck it up like a real man," he said as he laid down in his bed as well, earning the faintest of chuckles from me. "Goodnight, Jongin. Happy early birthday." He reached over to switch off his lamp and then melted into the mattress and the sheets, his head sinking into the pillow. I stared at him for a moment afterward before doing the same, praying that I'd get the one present I actually wanted for my birthday.

********

The next day was filled with all the same lines. "Happy birthday," "Happy 18th, Jongin," "Congrats, Jongin, you made it." I gave all the same responses back to them, "Thank you" and a small nod. Birthdays in a cancer hospital, from my experience, weren't anything spectacular. Sure, you'll get those people that say, "I was just happy to celebrate living another year," but to me, to say that is the equivalent of "I'm slowly waiting to die so that I don't have to celebrate another my birthday in this damned place." But apparently, people aren't brave enough to admit that, so they just stick to the age-old, generic and fake line.