SEVENTEEN ONESHOTS

eleven: Hoshi

*A/N:*
So for an aspect of the story, I wanted it to be realistic so I researched about it. This is also tailored to the story so sorry if there are any inaccurate statements. This story is a lot longer than I expected, so be prepared.
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"Did you hear? Another doctor is coming."
"No way, shouldn't they give up by now?"

I ignore the rude remarks that I hear while walking through the hallway.
My boots make a satisfying click sound with each step and the nurse beside me stutters while talking to me.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks.
"Yes, I'm sure." I tell him.
"Even all the experienced doctors here can't control him." He says.

"What do you mean 'control' him?" I ask, concerned. "He's a very difficult paitient, miss."

I'm not gonna lie, on the outside, I hold my head high but I was a little nervous.
We make it to the room.

Unit 108

I knock on the door.
No answer comes at first so I knock harder the second time.

"Leave!" An angry voice bellows, that makes everyone around jump.
"I can take it from here," I assure the nurse. He gives me a thumbs up and I enter the room.

The sheer white curtains are covering the big windows which makes the room very dim.

I see a figure on the bed, his face covered by a book. I expect a greeting but instead, he coldy says, "What do you want?"

Instead of answering his question, I open the curtains and the window.
"Hey! You're not supposed to do that!"
He barks.

I ignore him again while looking at my clipboard. "Hello, Soonyoung. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm here to-"

"I know what you're here for." He says, rolling his eyes and putting down his book on his lap.

I'm actually quite suprised. The doctors and nurses in the hospital described him as violent, uncontrollable, rude. But he looks more innocent than I thought.

His hair is straight and blonde. His eyes give me a cold stare. An oxygen mask is strapped onto his face.

And he's older than I thought.
I usually work with children or teenagers, but he's about my age.

"I'm your therapist for the time your in here," I finish my sentence and offer him my hand to shake.
But he doesn't take it.

I pull up a stool beside his hospital bed and side down beside him.
"How long have you been here?" I ask.

He crosses his arms and stares down at the ground. "If I ask you a question, answer." I tell him sternly.

He looks at me in slight suprise.
"A few months..." he mutters.
"Now you're gonna tell me about treatment options, won't you?" He says, disgusted.

"What do you mean?" I ask him. "You tell me. I'm sick." He snaps.

"Well, your lungs are in bad condition right now, Soonyoung. Treatment has really improved your lungs. You go back and forth between oxygen masks and cannulas, right?" I say, looking down at my clipboard.

He nods, not looking at me.

I place my clipboard on the table beside the bed. "So, do you have any hobbies?" I ask him.

"I read." He says, still refusing to make eye contact with me.
"Cool, what's you favourite book?"
He shrugs.

"Ok, do you have any interests?"
"What does this have to do with me getting better?" He asks rudely.