By Zephyria 
In-ho’s hospital room was still silent. Once Haon left, an even deeper sense of stillness settled over the bed. His limp body showed no signs of waking.
Then, before long, In-ho’s long eyelashes began to tremble slightly. At the same time, his tightly closed eyelids fluttered open.
The first thing that entered In-ho’s blurred vision was the ceiling.
He blinked several times, staring at the familiar wallpaper. The only sound he could hear was the faint ambient noise coming from a humidifier in the distance.
It was a sound that would never be heard in In-ho’s own home, as he didn’t keep humidifiers or clocks in his space.
Realizing he was in a hospital room and not at home, In-ho shifted his eyes. His stiff body wouldn’t move well; even turning his head felt like an exhausting effort.
The first person he looked for was Haon. However, no matter where he looked, Haon was nowhere to be seen, nor could he feel his presence. The chair in front of the bed and the guest sofa were empty, and the lights in the bathroom were off.
As he parted his dry lips, a metallic, fishy taste lingered in his mouth. He tried to swallow his saliva and take a breath, but his lungs tightened painfully, preventing him from inhaling deeply.
What had happened?
All he could remember was the struggle with Haon, refusing to go to the hospital. As In-ho retraced his memories, his brow slowly furrowed. The scene of him shouting at Haon came back vividly.
“Ha…”
He had lost his temper and frightened a soft-hearted person just because he was told to go to the hospital.
The moment he recalled Haon’s pale face, his body instinctively lunged forward. Letting out a small groan, In-ho pushed himself up and first searched for his phone.
As he pulled out the IV needle embedded in the back of his throbbing hand, droplets of blood splattered onto the white bedding. Seeing the dark red liquid soak into the fabric, his blurred memories began to sharpen.
‘Stop it! I said stop it!’
The sound of himself slamming against the wall and Haon’s screams as he clung to him echoed in his ears. That was as far as he could remember.
In-ho’s shoulders heaved once as he covered his face. He couldn’t even let out a proper sigh because he couldn’t breathe correctly.
His sensitized gaze fell upon the patient gown touching his skin and the cool touch of the blanket. At that, a thick vein popped on his rigid jaw.
Roughly throwing off the blanket, In-ho tried to get out of bed. However, the moment he stepped onto the cold floor and tried to stand, he collapsed instantly.
The sound of his large frame hitting the floor echoed loudly. Because it was late, there was no one walking the hospital corridors to hear it and come check on him.
“Ha… on-ssi…”
After all, Haon was the only one In-ho was looking for. Having pushed himself up from the floor, he repeated Haon’s name as if in prayer.
His own voice, leaking from his parched throat, sounded foreign. His limbs, clad in the oversized patient gown, felt as if they didn’t belong to him.
Touching his disheveled hair and haggard face, In-ho stopped searching for Haon. His current state was a mess. His lips were chapped and even cracked.
The drifting flow of his consciousness brought a deep sense of shame, along with a heavy weight of guilt toward Haon.
Forgetting his search for the phone, he tried to head toward the bathroom. He felt grimy, unable to wash properly. He felt as though he smelled foul. He felt he needed to wash his body with hot water. Finding Haon-ssi would come after that. He couldn’t let Haon be repulsed by him.
Walking with that thought, he collapsed after only a few steps. His body, as heavy as his hazy mind, refused to obey. His limbs felt stiff and weighted, as if he were drunk.
Collapsed on the floor, he looked around the dark hospital room. The moment he recognized the profound silence, a chill ran down his spine. In-ho’s lower lip began to tremble slightly.
“…”
The nurse call button by the head of the bed caught his eye, but he had no desire to press it. Just looking at the pebble-shaped black button made him feel nauseous.
This was why he hated hospitals. The mere act of lying in that bed brought up a repulsive sensation.
Furrowing his brow, In-ho forced a hollow laugh. Despite the smile, his distorted face created an entirely different expression.
He was relieved that Haon wasn’t here right now. He had already hit rock bottom, but he didn’t want to be seen rolling down an even deeper cliff.
Haon-ssi wouldn’t want to see him like this either. Perhaps that was why he had left. As that thought reached him, heat rushed to his aching eyes.
Just then, a small piece of memo paper caught In-ho’s toe. It seemed to have fallen when he collapsed. In-ho stared blankly at the white memo at his feet, then slowly reached out.
It was a note Haon had left behind.
[I’ll be right back after grabbing some clothes]
So don’t be surprised. Reading the final sentence written with a small exclamation mark, In-ho took a long breath. Only then did he feel he could breathe.
In-ho gently touched the letters written on the hospital-logo memo paper. The neat handwriting was beautiful, much like the writer.
After taking in the letters, which looked as if they had been pressed down one by one, he stood up. The two legs that had refused to obey until a moment ago now moved on their own. It was as if the note Haon left had given him strength he didn’t have.
In-ho grabbed the phone from the nightstand and immediately called Haon.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he focused on the ringing tone. His gaze dropped to the note he was clutching. Because he had gripped it tightly to avoid losing it, the thin paper had become crumpled.
In-ho-ssi?
The ringing stopped abruptly. The moment he heard Haon’s voice, In-ho’s mind snapped awake.
Is this In-ho-ssi?
Haon asked back, his voice slightly louder as if surprised.
“Haon-ssi, are you on your way?”
Maybe he should have drunk some water before calling. In-ho frowned at his own weakly cracked voice. He was bothered that his lack of composure was so apparent. He hated things like this.
Even after he belatedly cleared his throat, there was no immediate answer from Haon. Thinking the call might have dropped, In-ho checked his phone and then hesitantly spoke.
“Haon-ssi.”
Fortunately, the silence was quickly broken.
I’m on my way now. Please wait just a little longer.
“Where are you?”
The place where Haon was was excessively quiet. In-ho massaged his stiff neck and stood up.
I’m still in the car. I think I’ll arrive in about 20 minutes.
“Did you take a taxi?”
Haon replied in a muffled voice that he had.
How is your body? Are you dizzy?
“I’m fine,” In-ho answered curtly.
Before he knew it, he was walking toward the door. He was worried about Haon taking a taxi alone at this late hour.
He intended to go out and wait. As if sensing this, the moment In-ho grabbed the doorknob, Haon stopped him.
Don’t come out, just stay lying down. Even if you aren’t hurting. Got it?
“…Yes, I understand.”
Stopped by the firm tone, In-ho obediently returned to the bed. He didn’t lie down, but sat facing the door. He felt that if he lay down, his heavy body would be swallowed by sleep instantly.
I’m sorry I wasn’t by your side.
In-ho started to lean his head against the headboard but then straightened his upper body. He felt as if his tongue had frozen at Haon’s unexpected apology. Because of that, he couldn’t easily continue.
“No, I’m more… sorry. For everything.”
The two stopped talking for a moment, only breathing quietly. Normally, In-ho would have spoken first, but now he only opened and closed his dry lips. Even that consumed his energy.
Keep sleeping. I’ll be there soon.
After a long while, Haon spoke in a soft, whispering voice. His tone was calm, but there was a dampness in his voice.
Haon ended the call, saying they should talk more once they saw each other. His voice sounded as if he were holding back tears.
“Yes, come safely.”
In-ho only answered after the call had ended. He held the phone with the darkened screen for a few more minutes.
Then, he closed and opened his eyes tightly once, left the bed again, and went to the bathroom.
He washed his face simply and rinsed the blood-stained back of his hand with water. Since the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet, he pressed a tissue against the needle mark and headed for the refrigerator.
It suddenly occurred to him that Haon certainly wouldn’t have eaten anything. Forgetting that it was night, In-ho looked for something Haon could eat. His eyes were half-closed as he searched the fridge.
He grabbed a sandwich, the orange juice Haon liked, and a bottle of water, then returned to the bed.
After washing his face with cold water, his mind seemed clearer. However, his body continued to slump. Feeling that drinking water would fully wake him up, he twisted the cap of the water bottle.
“Ha…”
In-ho chuckled as he looked at his hand, unable to open the cap in one go. After several failed attempts, he barely managed to open it. He felt lucky that he wasn’t doing this in front of Haon-ssi.
He stared blankly at the sloshing water before wetting his throat. As the cold water entered his throat, which had throbbed even when swallowing saliva, the pain subsided slightly.
However, his sensitized stomach didn’t seem to welcome the cold water. In-ho rubbed his aching stomach with one hand. His other hand held the sandwich and drink for Haon.
Fearing he might drop them, he placed them right beside him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and it seemed he had fallen asleep.
When In-ho opened his eyes again, bright light was streaming through the curtains. He didn’t know how much time had passed.
Blinking his stiff eyes a few times, he stared at the blanket covering his body and the newly connected IV line. This time, the needle was in his arm, not the back of his hand. His hand, where the wound remained, was wrapped in white bandages.
In-ho turned his head as he processed the information in his field of vision one by one. At the same time, Haon’s soft breath touched his cheek.