SEVENTEEN ONESHOTS

One: The8

*Author's Note*
This literally took me like 2 months to create for some reasons. It's still not perfect, but hope you enjoy.

-No strong language included
- Kinda angst and kinda fluff
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I looked up at the ticking clock of the waiting room, growing tired of the hospital smell. The clock ticked and I immediately made my way to the receptionist desk. The middle aged receptionist groaned at the sight of me.

"Sweetie, aren't you tired at this point? Go home already." she said in an insulting manner.

Yes, I was tired but I didn't have the energy to argue back or go home.

"I should be able to visit." I said calmly.

The receptionist typed on her computer and after and few seconds of the mouse clicking, she told me, "Floor 2 in Room 6B. Remember visiting hours are over in an hour".

⊱ ────── {⋆⌘⋆} ────── ⊰

"Come in."

I opened the door and walked in.

"Y/N! I'm so glad you came. I was dying of boredom."

I smiled and pulled up a chair beside Minghao's hospital bed.

"How're you doing? Do your headaches still hurt?

"Not as much as last week. I'm also getting used to family visits."

Minghao is my boyfriend. Or he was my boyfriend

"Another storytime?" Minghao asked as he gestured to the photo album I was holding. I laid down the photo album on his lap and we flipped through the pages together.

Minghao was a passionate dancer. He would practice for hours on end. One day, the choreography went wrong and he hit his head.

Hard.

Minghao was in a coma for a few months. The doctors said he would live and lead a normal life.

But that didn't happen.

When Minghao awoke, he couldn't remember anyone from before his accident. That included me too. This photo album was meant as a gift for our anniversary but he was still in his coma during that time. Minghao somehow convinced himself that I was his best friend. I wanted to tell him the truth but I was afraid. Afraid that everything would crumble. What if he didn't love me anymore? I couldn't lose him so I kept it to myself.

Minghao pointed to a picture.
"What happened here?"

"You ate too much on your birthday and puked on my new shoes."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

The doctors have been doing brain exercises with him to help him remember things. Do they help?
Of course not.

Sometimes, I wish that I would wake up and everything would've been a crazy dream. Or I was on one of those prank TV shows and my life would be normal.
I would be a person that he would never forget.

But that was just a fantasy.

For the last few months, I have been visiting him as much as possible. We would look at old photos, tell stories, and talk about life.

"Y/N?"

I jumped back into reality and looked at the photo that he was pointing at.

"Oh that was when you got mad from the result of what the sorting hat gave you. You took it out on me."