The One I Love

20:00

As she walks through campus, she can't help but wonder if it will be the last time.

Jennie was never much of a sentimental person, but even the trees seem to hold a vague memory. She came to school with a dream, but she's leaving with empty hands and a heavy heart. The administrative building looms above her like the leviathan. With a deep breath, she walks through the heavy glass doors, paperwork in hand.

The process is painless and quick, just as the receptionist over the phone had promised her. Jennie walks down the hall aimlessly, shoes scuffing against the tile flooring. It's only a temporary medical withdrawal, she tells herself. She'll be back, as if nothing had happened at all.

She somehow finds herself in the glass-walled laboratory building. She wonders why she never took the time to enjoy the view, she'd been too busy with her face buried in her books or with her chin proudly raised. She can see the path from where she stands, the path she had wandered aimlessly with Minho.

The trees have fully bloomed now, their blossoms fat and pink. She never thought she would but she misses the winter.

She misses the way just the sound of Minho's laugh made her feel warm. She misses when she could walk away from the hospital, and not have to come back if she didn't want to. She misses thinking that losing Song Minho would be the worst thing that could happen to her.

(And maybe, just a little bit, it still is.)

The sound of footsteps is muffled by the spring wind howling at the window. She doesn't hear him, but she feels the sudden and jarring grip of his hand on her arm.

"Did you block my number?" He asks, forehead creased. The heart-shaped tattoo peeks tauntingly through the rolled sleeve of his lab coat.

"Yes." Jennie answers through gritted teeth, bracing herself against the window. From this angle, she could land a pretty painful kick. She bites her lip. "What do you want, Jaewon? Other than to fuck up my life?"

He steps back for a moment, caught off guard by the venom in her voice. She takes the opportunity to shake off his grip, repositioning her body so that she's no longer cornered.

"Fuck up your life?" He chuckles darkly, smoothing his jet-black hair back with his hand. "You're the one who's got me all fucked up. I can't eat, I can't sleep..."

His pained expression stirs the part of her that she hates the most. The part of her that cares about Jaewon, just a little bit. The part of her that sees herself in him, that understands he didn't start out like this. It's just the way the world made him.

"I'm not pregnant," She tells him in a quiet voice. No anger. No venom. "Jaewon, I'm... sick."

"Sick?" He moves away at the word, she wonders if he notices. "What do you mean by sick?"

"I'm sick." She repeats again, the reality of it all twisting her insides. "Yep, not pregnant. I probably won't even be able to have kids. Not like I'd make a good mom, right?"

She lets out a bitter laugh before sinking to her knees. She knows she's making a scene but she doesn't care. He's the second person she's told. Her mom doesn't even know but Jung Fucking Jaewon does. The sobs roll violently through her body.

He grabs for her again, pulling her up like a ragdoll.

"Jennie, get yourself together." He begs with wild eyes, voice nearly shaking. "Jen, c'mon. You're not making any sense."

She holds loosely onto his lab coat.

"Somehow, I'm happy." She studies him carefully, her figure reflecting back in his widened gaze. "I would rather die than be tied to you for the rest of my life."

His grasp relaxes as he steps away from her in anger and disgust. She falls back onto the ground, laughing through the tears as she's left alone.

. . .

The sound of rubber tread against tile has become familiar. Comforting, even.

Jennie peers over at the door.

"Were we warlords in our past lives?" He asks, voice gravelly as he comes to a stop by her bedside. "How many villages did we burn to have a fate like this?"

She wonders what it would be like to ride across the plains alongside Minho. Heavy armor clanking against her body. Swords whistling in the wind.

He rests his head on her chest, surprising her. She composes herself and lightly ruffles his hair. It's unexpectedly soft.

"Your mom had ovarian cancer, didn't she?" Jennie asks, still staring ahead. It's both a courtesy and an act of selfishness, not looking at his face.

His shoulders shake, his face buried further into her chest. She feels a dampness through the thin fabric of the hospital gown.

"Really, what kind of fate..."

. . .

After the surgery, Jennie has limited mobility. She's temporarily given a wheelchair from the hospital, its leather seat worn and well-traveled.

Jinwoo wheels her out toward the garden. She understands it a little better, the way expressions can be felt through the grip of a handle. She wonders if Jinwoo would be able to feel the vibration of her laughter, or if she was just particularly sensitive to Minho. If she had a reason to, she would test it out.

"Have you told your mom?" Dr. Kim finally asks. She could feel the weight of the question unloaded from his shoulders.

"I did." Jennie answers reticently. "But she's in London and can't come back until the end of the month."

Her cousin lets out a sigh. Again, his grip tightens.

"Can't or won't?"

"Maybe it's a little of both."

He squeezes her shoulder and gives her a small smile as she turns to look up at him. His gaze moves past her.

"Your friend is here."

She moves her head again to see Minho move toward her. His movements are slowed, compared to when they had first reunited.

"You're leaving?" Her voice is tinged with disappointment as Jinwoo steps to the side.

"Yeah, I have to get back to my ward." He smiles. Convenient. "Take care of yourself, Jen."

She gives her cousin a tiny wave as Minho rolls up next to her. Rather than look at one another, they stare ahead at the pond. With the spring came little ducklings chasing their mother through the water. It's painfully adorable.

Jennie almost cracks a smile. Almost.

"How are you feeling?" His voice is smooth, but strange. It sounds... effortful.

"Awful." She replies truthfully. "I want to throw up all the time."

He nods in commiseration.

"It's nice to be on your eye level again." He changes the subject, moving closer. For good measure, he straightens his back. "Actually, I'm taller again."

"Yeah, it is nice." Jennie says, and she's never meant anything more.