Smile Flower ❀ Soonhoon

2 | You Were Beautiful

.- 2 ♡ You Were Beautiful

For the last time
Your eyes that looked at me
Your voice that said, take care
Everything, everything
Even that, to me

╟ ♥ ╢

Jihoon sighed, glaring at this tired, sickly version of himself in the mirror. He hated this, he hated how his hair didn't style into anything presentable, how the bags under his eyes didn't go away no matter how much of his secret stash of concealer he used, how his hands were like fragile leaves. He hated how he looked like he was dying.

He combed his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands. If it would just go to the left he would look so much neater, but lo and behold, his wish remained ungranted by whatever he was wishing to in the first place. At least the natural black color suited him; he'd gone for a dusky shade of brown a little while ago and he hadn't been a fan. That was maybe the biggest hair mistake he'd ever made, it even beat the time when he tried to use a box dye from a dodgy website at a discounted price. Never again.

"Whatever," Jihoon grumbled, defeated once again by his own body. "It's not like I need to look nice or anything, I'm in a hospital for god's sake,"

His phone began to ring obnoxiously, but he ignored it. Today was what Jae referred to as one of his 'low days', where he began to slip back into that void of depression. It could be muffled slightly, but the last thing Jihoon wanted was to be medicated. Zombie Jihoon was a snappy Jihoon and that wasn't how he wanted to be when he was allowed outside for the first time in four days.

Once the ringing ended, whoever was on the other line chose not to leave a message and hung up. As long as it wasn't his adoptive parents, no one would mind his choice to just be pessimistic and sulky for a day. Besides, they only cared because the longer he was here, the more likely their friends were to know that the Lees had a relative in hospital.

Jihoon could still remember the painful conversation that had occurred when his parents were called as the doctors tried to keep their son from passing out. He could remember the shouting and the sighing, and worst of all, the 'We're not going to get mad. We're just disappointed in you'. The disappointment was so, so much worse than them being mad. It was like someone shoving a plastic bag around your head in an attempt to choke you, while you struggled to swim. It was like having all your emotions laid out in front of you for the world to see. It was like being seen as weak and vulnerable when that's the one thing you tried to hide the most.

Jihoon stepped out of the bathroom to get his phone. At least that way he could text Soonyoung to ask him when he was coming. The both of them had arranged to go out today to walk around town. It had been too long for Jihoon to not be outside, and Soonyoung couldn't bear seeing his best friend and roommate suffer indoors.

"When did you get here?" Jihoon asked. Soonyoung was sat on the uncomfortable chair by the window, on some kind of social media site. He was ready to go, and he had Jihoon's hoodie by his side. The specific one from the apartment that Jihoon had just been regretting not taking.

"Like, ten minutes ago," Soonyoung replied coolly. He glanced over at his friend, and let his eyes wander across his torso before bringing them back to his face. "I tried calling you, to see if you were in the cafeteria or something, but your phone went off here so it didn't make much of a difference anyway."

"Oh?"

"Anyway, are you ready to go?"

Jihoon looked at his exposed arms, before shaking his head no. He couldn't wander around town with scars all over his arms, or his ankles... or his thighs. In fact, it was probably better if he didn't show any skin at all.

Soonyoung threw him his hoodie. "You'll need this," He advised, glancing at Jihoon's wrists. Personally, Jihoon thought that the scars were beautiful, a way of expressing himself. Normal, not sick people, however, thought that they were something to pity. There was one time when a random stranger had approached him while he was shopping when his sleeve rode up a little and had given him the number for a therapist before silently leaving.

He hated her.

Jihoon sighed loudly, before pulling on the hoodie, the soft fabric brushing against his sensitive skin. There were balls of lint across the sleeves, and the zipper was rusty. It was exactly how Jihoon had left it, and how he intended for it to stay. To be honest, he wouldn't mind dying in it. Just, don't tell that to his therapist, at least.

"Ready to go?"

"When am I ever ready for anything, Kwon Soonyoung?"

╟ ♥ ╢