Moving On - A Holland Fanfic

Moved on

 ~ 3 weeks later ~

Holland's POV

I don't know if it's a good idea to meet him. I really long to meet him, though. But what will it bring?

I take my bag and look for my headphones. Music is a part of my life now. I need to listen to other songs to get inspired. That's one of the things which I should thank Jisoo for.

Why am I meeting him in the hospital? It's partly because of his parents asked me to. They think it will help him to find himself. I'm not sure about that. He was a fake person around me. The other reason why I want to meet him, is because I'm not mad at him. Apparantely he didn't take his medicines anymore, so he started acting weird and changed his mind now and then. It's not a reason to justify what he has done, but I think he didn't even realize what he was doing. I will never know whether it was his intention to hurt and stalk me.

At the door of the hospital I want to go back home, but I'm doing this for him. I can't leave. I would feel guilty. Although he's not my responsibility.

He must have been waiting for a long time already. I was bound to come a week ago, but it was too early for me. Even my window got fixed only yesterday.

The nurse let's me in. Can I call her a nurse? At least she looks very helpful.

In the couch in the relax room there's Jisoo. He just stares ahead in the room. Does he even notice that I'm here? In the back, there's his parents. I feel at ease knowing that they're here.

'Hey.' I say smiling. I reach down so he sees me.

'Hey.' He says. I'm not convinced whether he's smiling. Maybe he just tries to hold back his tears.

'How are you doing? Aren't you bored in here?' I don't want to make it awkward. I just ask the questions I would ask anyone.

'I like it. I can relax.'

'That's true.' I say. The parents leave suddenly. Maybe this makes me even feel at ease a bit more.

'Can you sit here?' He asks me. The parents told me not to do it, but I guess I need to do what he asks me to do. Maybe it will help him. He points at the couch, right next to him.

'Of course.' I feel so mature, talking to him. He is not the person he used to be before. Is this the real him? It's a sincere question I can ask him. 'On a scale from one to ten, what do you give yourself for being yourself right now?'

He thinks for a while. 'Maybe 8.' He says confidently. 

It's quite shocking to hear that. In my entire life I would never have given myself an 8. Even now I'm only coming closer to a 7, and that's good enough for now.

'Nothing much changed.' 

'What do you mean?' I say when staring at his trembling hands. 

'My real me also likes you. The feeling doesn't go away even after all these weeks, so I think my real and fake me are twins.' I smile. I don't know if this is a good thing to hear, but it's an honour. He must be thinking about it a lot.

Jisoo's POV

I'm not scared to talk to him. I've never been scared of anything. I'm only scared to push him away, because the most important thing to do now is to be myself. And myself, is it bad or good?

I'm glad he wants to sit next to me and he didn't invite his body guards. I think I would be disappointed. But he's not the type to hurt people, he knows what he's doing.

'It's good you figured it out yourself.' He says, hesitating. Of course it's not easy to talk with me after all the lies I told him. How does he need to behave?

'I'm sorry for the lies and my obsession. I don't know why I got myself in this situation. But it's going well now.' I hope he believes me. 

He ignores my apologies as if I'm apologizing to the wrong person. 'When can you leave?'

'Within a few days already.' 

'Would you like to cook for me then? Is Saturday alright?'

'I guess so.'

'See you then.' He says, getting up. I look at him walking away. Then he turns to me and comes back. 'I'm so stupid. I forgot something.'

I watch him reaching down. He comes closer with his face and kisses me on the cheek. 

He goes away. We didn't talk about his music. We only talked about me.

'Tae-seob.' I call him. He closes the door behind him. 'Thanks.' I'm not grateful for the kiss, but for the things he taught me. I thought I could teach him a lot about music, but it turns out that he was my teacher of life.