[l.m x l.jn]
[l.m x z.cl]
ೃ⁀➷ occasionally reality distorts itself.
it changes as days come and go.
sometimes quickly but sometimes
slowly. it gives way to fantasy, the
action of imagining...
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Kun had made dealing with Chenle sound hard....but Mark had no idea it'd be this hard. He kicked up a fuss over everything, but not childishly. More so like a teenager that quietly wanted to express their displeasure.
After a long debate and argument over why sleep was important and why the patient needed to rest, the younger eventually lost once he grew too tired to retaliate.
Mark sat on the edge of Chenle's bed, feeling extremely relieved that the boy had fallen asleep. The younger's soft, fluffy hair sifted through his fingers as he gently ran his hand through it in a soothing manner.
He feels real, the adult thought tiredly, dragging his thumb over the patient's cheek and deciding that the skin was real, that the breaths were real, and that Chenle was real.
But so was Jeno. His lips, his hair, his tall and warm figure, his everything....It was real, wasn't it?
"Ugh, I'mseriously loosing my mind," he mumbled hoarsely, suddenly thinking back to the words of a therapist he had been recommended. His family had been adamant that he got his dreams and sleep problems sorted, for he had suffered through them ever since he was a teenager. He had only dealt with this impression situation once before, and the way he conquered it that time was obviously different to this time. After all, high school in the city and high school in the countryside were two tough choices to pick at. How could a seventeen-year-old decipher the truth? In the end, he realised the people of the countryside were very hesitant to answer his questions, and that impression shattered.
I don't need some therapist to tell me that I don't sleep right, Mark had told them, and himself. Of course, there was a possibility that the therapist could fix them or perhaps 'help' him keep them under control. Drugs? Psychology? Meditation? He wasn't sure what it was he needed, but suddenly, seeing a psychologist seemed impossible.
After all, he woke up in an inescapable school, and a barred up hospital. How was he to leave?
"I'm telling you! Stay away, Demon!" The familiar voice of Renjun screamed from the next hall over, and Donghyuck could then be heard shushing him and telling him that there were no demons here.
Mark's eyes started to flutter, that familiar exhaustion tightening around his chest as he suddenly fell forward, on a crash course towards Chenle.
"Mark?! Mark! Come on, Lee, you can do it!" Someone consistently called to him as he came to, tossing and turning a bit at the nasty feeling of sore muscles.
"What?" He croaked, opening his eyes once again and shaking off as he felt arms pull him into a seated position. His eyes shifted from the white walls around him, the two single beds opposite him in the square room, and towards the similarly aged man sitting on the mattress beside him.
