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— there is more to this world than i ever thought before.
ONE MONTH PRIOR: KIM TAEHYUNG
==
every other day, since the beginning of september at six o' clock, just before the sun begins to set.
kim taehyung opens his eyes—looks at the dishes in his gentle hands—bites his lips as cold sweat accumulates on healthy skin—steps away from the kitchen counter with faintly scarred feet—stumbles to the bathroom and unbuttons his newly bought sweater, it would be a pity to stain it—leans over the sink and breathes.
then, he sputters. and into the drain, he coughs blood.
but it isn't red. it's black.
==
taehyung is always curious to hear the story of how linnie found him. often, as they stand side by side with each other in her absolutely wonderful apartment (being a doctor, taehyung has learned, has incredible benefits) cooking steaming pots of noodles, or mixing oriental salads, she speaks with an aged voice and crinkling eyes.
it's the only real closure he has, anyway. linnie is the only person he's ever known, aside from faint, vague recollections of people and faces, warbled cobwebs in the reservoirs of his brain. so for the four years he can clearly remember things without shouting from frustration into his pillow, it's the closest thing he'll ever get.
"you were a skinny little thing," is how the story always begins, linnie's crooked finger poking the side of taehyung's torso in affection. "reminded me a lot of my own grandson, actually—oh, he's a big guy now, working in that large corporation down at sunab city, but that isn't the point here.
"but anyway. i took a late shift at the clinic that night, and not many people were out. and you know where i found you? in some alleyway, with a broken bottle from the ground held close to your chest. and—oh lord, it still irks me—your shirt was covered in blood, taehyung." a pause here. "you were shivering, oh, you poor thing. god only knows what happened to you."
"i can't remember," taehyung always quietly responds.
"i know you can't, child, it isn't your fault. so i walked up to you, tried to talk to you, and the moment i touched your shoulder you screamed!"
"christ, linnie, that's—"
"embarrassing? why should it be? you were frightened to death, my goodness, you had every right to shout. but right after that you fell unconscious—i thought it was exhaustion, you looked awfully malnourished—, so i picked you up and took you all the way to car and drove us to the clinic. and let me say, i might be a strong old woman and you might have been skin and bones, but that was quite the exercise."
