Not Your Boyfriend (2PARK✔️)

Lesson Twelve: Running

y'all really reading this mess, i can't even believe.

Woojin manages do disappear while Daehwi and Sungwoon acclimate themselves to one another, and I find that it's even harder to speak to Doctor Ong without the tanned boy there. At least yesterday, Sungwoon was beside me to calm my nerves. But with him preoccupied with a shiny new toy, I'm left to be evaluated alone. Apart from my soft replies to Doctor Ong's even softer questions, the only sound in my hospital room is his scratchy pen against his papers as he takes notes.

"Do you think you could label all the emotions you've been feeling lately into one category? Maybe try to find one word that could encompass everything?" His dark eyes, surrounded by even darker lashes, watch me over his clipboard steadily.

"Rushed," I mutter.

I don't pay much attention to most of my own answers, losing focus every few minutes as my mind dwells on Woojin and my fast-approaching discharge from the hospital. With nothing medically wrong with me, they can't very-well continue keeping me here. The only thing left to do is set up the therapy sessions I apparently require for "Your own good, Jihoon."

I'm brought a bag at some point during the drawn out talk, Sungwoon unceremoniously dropping it on my bed before nodding to me and leaving quietly. Inside, rumpled and unorganized, is a heavy outfit to shield me from the apparently chilling weather outside. Doctor Ong leaves me shortly after that, folding up several sheets of paper and tucking them in my open bag for me.

"This is just informational pages. Help lines if you ever need to talk to someone and can't reach those you're close to." He taps the papers, a broad smile opening up his face brightly. "I've also left you with my home phone, cell phone, and email information. I won't be able to become your official counselor, but I don't want you to go forward without updating an impartial ear on how you're doing."

He places a hand over his heart, blinking hard in sincerity. "I'd like to continue helping you in any way I can. Please call me if you ever feel stuck, or if the therapist I've contacted for you just doesn't work with you."

I thank him, feeling sincerely grateful for his calming presence over the last day. He leaves the room quietly, and I take my time getting dressed, washing myself as best I can in the small bathroom attached to my room. My left arm, having had that IV pushed into it for twelve or so hours, still feels stiff, but it's nice to feel the pain spawning from somewhere other than my shoulder.

When I'm left with nothing else to do but sign my discharge papers, I make my way out of my quiet hospital room. I'm almost immediately smothered by a familiar tanned boy, but he isn't hugging me as I first assumed. He's hustling me back into the hospital room, with Sungwoon and Daehwi quick to follow us. I catch both their wide eyes, Sungwoon's nervous, and Daehwi's excited.

"What the hell?" I ask once we've been locked back into the small room, nobody moving away from the door.

"So uh," Sungwoon scratches beneath his beanie nervously, cutting his gaze from me to the door several times. "So I guess my dad flew back into Korea last night," he begins, biting his lip to bide for time. "And it would seem that he has some kind of conference here. He's probably starting a new fund to help develop whatever medical technologies-"

"Sungwoon, what's the big deal? Your dad doesn't hate me or anything, why can't I just say a quick 'Hello' and leave?" He shakes his head vigorously, hands up to ward me away from the idea. "Okay... I'll just discharge myself and leave quietly then, I don't see why your father would be such a big issue-"