The dark hallway made Luhan's shadow to stand out more. He stood on the last chair from the last row of chairs, the one closer to Cardiology. With trembling hands he was looking at the cigarette waiting to be lightened. Nervously, he shifted his right leg closer, resting his head on both of them. Memories started to crash in and tears began to fall. Since his childhood Luhan wanted to be a doctor; not because his parents forced him to, but because he truly wanted. He was a six year-old when he took that decision, after watching his grandfather die because of a stroke. He saw how doctors were unable to bring him back, he saw his mother's tears, he saw his father's hands taking him away from the scene. At that moment he asked, "How can I help grandpa?", and the answer he got was:"You're not a doctor. There's nothing you can do.". Right then, Luhan set a goal from becoming a doctor, and from saving human lives. However, it never crossed his mind that doctors weren't Gods; they didn't always save human lives. Now, he felt guilty and he thought that maybe, if he chose another job, and if it was another doctor operating on that old man's heart he could have been saved. Yes, Luhan found himself standing face to face with his first dead patient on the operating table; the panic, the hurt, the shock took over him, and here he was now. His hands were sweaty, and also his forehead; while clutching the cigarette tighter he broke down. He rejected the idea of being this kind of doctor.
Four days passed since Luhan sent in his resignation. Professor Kim, who had been one of his mentors and who appreciated him a lot, refused to accept it. He said that he understood where this came from, and that all doctors have a shock when this happens for the first time. "You will be alright after a few weeks of rest," the Professor said. Luhan esteemed him too much to refuse his wish. Therefore, he agreed. And, here he was, in the middle of his condo, with a bowl of rice in his hands, debating whether to eat it or not. He looked around and he saw how much of a mess his house turned into, but he felt too lazy to clean up so he returned to his bowl of rice. Out of nowhere, the feeling of loneliness hit him. It was strange since he never felt it before because of his work, but now, staying in this house that he rarely saw, it felt strange and lonely. The hospital was his house, and he started to wonder how his life would be without it and what would he do from now on. The last five nights had been full of nightmares and Luhan felt like he was losing his mind; that operating table, the family's face when they heard about the death, their yells, their tears...
The doorbell rang and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. He cared about Professor Kim a lot, he was like a father for him, but it was already the fifth time when he came, trying to convince Luhan to come back, to get over it already. Without even checking who his guest was, Luhan opened the door wide, and turned around, ready for the commotion to start. Professor Kim was very loud and very talkative.
"Luhan."
That wasn't the Professor's Kim voice and he felt himself quickly spinning around at the familiarity of it. The image in front of him wasn't something he expected. The woman in front of him was terribly thin, with her hair slightly disheveled, and she was barefooted. In her hands was a little girl, and Luhan slowly nodded his head. Of course, of course she had a child.
"Joohyeon." He was startled by the tears that started to roll down on her cheeks, and he hardly stopped himself from wiping them away. Yet, he couldn't do that, he wasn't in the position to do so; not anymore. So much time passed since he last saw her, but it wasn't like he couldn't recognize those chocolate eyes. "Come in?", he didn't intend it to sound like a question so he mentally groaned, realizing that he was flustered. "I mean, come in.", he saved the situation with a smile that he didn't think was a proper one, considering how awkward the situation was.
"Thank you.", Joohyeon said looking at her bare feet, and holding the child tightly, so she wouldn't fall.
