white pale walls that matched the boring lumpy bed, a small tv on the corner of the room and beside me was a small table scattered with books and my belongings. i felt like this room was set to be a funeral home that contained such an annoying presence. especially the heart monitor beside me that never stopped beeping every ten seconds which in fact, the sound has been stuck in my mind for the past three days of being here.
"can i just go home?" i groaned to myself as i slam my head onto the soft pillow laid on the bed.
i was going crazy and i hated every second of being in here. one reason because of the mattress that always made a squeaky sound every time i made a move and the dull room that bored out the death of me. most importantly, just lying down here completely soulless while i looked at the ceiling; imagining what it would be like to die.
then randomly the door opened and in stepped jin, probably going to lecture me about what i've said to jiyoon.
"annyeong" he says,
i watch his every step without making a sound while he brought the chair from the side of the room beside the bed.
"jungkook" he starts off,
"mian for yelling at you two days ago. it just slipped and got caught in the moment." he says reasonably but with sincere written on his face,
i let out a heavy sigh while closing my eyes,
"gwaenchanha, i just don't understand why you stood up for her."
"like what i've said, she saved you. if it wasn't for her, we probably lost you."
"jebal, if you're going to talk to me about that, just get out." i say,
"I know you're hurt but just let her stay until you get discharged out of the hospital." says jin,
"why would i let her stay now when i've wanted her to stay a long time ago?" i spat, finally opening my eyes while i felt tears brim.
"what's going on?" hoseok barges inside, a look of concern on his face.
i roll my eyes in annoyance knowing he'll be on jin's side.
"just get out, both of you."
"jungkook-"
"go!" i shout,
a tear rolling down my cheek while i felt a heavy weight on my chest making it harder for me to breathe. my heart was aching but i was about to loose my temper.
as much as i hated the fact of having to argue with them, they made it harder for me to recover.
why can't they just understand me?
