prism [ kim s.j ] ( fin )

† 56

     "mr kim, what did you tell them?"

     "what's there to know? and don't say that, it's weird."

     "what did you say you were to me? my fiancé?!"

     "kyu, you need someone to be here wi—"

     "no i don't."

     "kyu, plea—"

     "stop calling me that."

     "kyu, i swear to fucking—"

     "wait what?!" she screamed, throat burning, voice cracking, tears swelling. she couldn't care less — she'd be happy to be dead and go to hell. "swear to what!? swear to god?! well he's not's real! god's not here! god's a piece of shit. he's an ass. he — he's gone..."

     slowing, falling, drifting, white around her — it's the same room again. her skin is flour pale, she could disappear into the sheets and not worry about the world, or the noises, or the needles around her, or the gas mask on her nose. she could drift off with the cotton clumps around her without a care of anyone else, if god wanted her out of misery.

     instead her eyes glaze torpid to the man in blue plastic coat, hairnet and mask. he's protected, kyu sighs. he's happy, free, uninfected by her everything. many people would be glad to wear what he has, to be disease-free — she was one of them.

     "get away from me." she said. a waste of breath. she should be healing, she should be lucky — damn hell she's not. she wants out, she wants done.

     she tried. she's tired.

     it was hard to see a view like this again for seokjin. it really was. more so of the fact that the doctors half smiled and shrugged and looked down just to not see his face. more so that it must be a normal sight for them to see a wasted human in sheets that housed other people who are now six foot under. more so that it's hurting his mind thinking if they're trying their best to make her live for him or not. it was.

     he ignored the white against blue. the pushes. her struggles to free from him. the hands that wound around him to put his plastic mask and hairnet on again.

     "i'm sorry!" kyu begged, prayed, feared. "i'm sorry..."

     they both accepted their life. they both already had their successes — a guitarist and an international singer. they both were happy.

     meeting again, however, was their blissful misery.

     kiss. tear. skin. plastic on top of fabric. fingers. cheeks. forehead. short hair. cute button nose fitted against sharp collarbones. waist. back. shoulders. rest. together.