“Ms. Jung?”

She had already been bracing herself the entire half hour for this encounter, but it didn’t make the blazing fire in Kim Jongin’s eyes any less terrifying when the receptionist timidly raised her head to meet his searing gaze.

Luckily, Kihyun appeared right after, albeit looking just as unhappy as the artist did. The junior doctor’s lips were pressed into the thinnest of lines as he walked up to Soojung’s desk to drop off Kim Jongin’s file, letting it fall on top of a stack of papers like a piece of hot coal. “Where’s my next patient, Soojung?” Dr. Yoo flatly asked, his voice completely devoid of its usual warmth.

The receptionist warily flicked her eyes towards Kim Jongin again, who was now leveling his burning glare at the junior doctor. “Um…Room Five, Dr. Yoo…” Soojung meekly answered, keeping her gaze pointedly fixed on an owl-shaped post-it notepad. She also internally made a note to herself to apologize to Kihyun later that day for what had clearly been a disastrous appointment with arguably the most difficult patient that Bright Vision Eye Clinic had ever serviced.

“Thank you, Soojung,” Dr. Yoo said with a short nod before promptly whisking himself away from the lobby.

Kim Jongin’s scorching stare had now returned to the long-haired receptionist and she could feel his dark eyes burning holes into her head with every millisecond that passed. “Ms. Jung?” the artist repeated, practically spitting venom with each syllable.

“Y-yes, Mr. Kim?” Soojung forced herself to face the tall man, attempting to keep her best customer service smile pasted on while anxiously gripping her knees under her desk to keep herself from visibly trembling under such a terrifying gaze. “W-we need to make your n-next appoint—”

“Why was I not notified beforehand that Dr. Do would be on vacation this week?” he snarled while dangerously leaning over the counter.

“W-well, Dr. Do thought it would be a-alright for one of our j-junior doctors to s-see you,” Soojung stammered, immediately shrinking under the artist’s accusatory glare.

However, the outrage in Kim Jongin’s eyes only grew as he leaned even closer to the startled receptionist. “Did Dr. Do really say that?” he hissed accusatorily, his dark aura suddenly surrounding the two of them like an uncontainable wildfire. “After everything that’s happened? After knowing everything I’ve been going through?” the artist continued, sounding almost maniacal.

“Y-yes, Mr. Kim,” Soojung whispered again, staring back at him with just as much fear. “I—I’m so sorry though, Mr. Kim. I should have c-called you to n-notify you of Dr. Do’s absence b-beforehand. That was m-my fault…”

To Soojung’s immense relief, Sejeong appeared just then, after handing over the patient in Room Five to Kihyun, and the junior nurse’s eyes instantly narrowed when she noticed Kim Jongin’s threatening stance. She quickly stationed herself behind Soojung’s petrified body and placed on comforting hand on the receptionist’s right shoulder before ordering with a dangerous smile, “With all due respect, Mr. Kim, if you already have your next appointment set up, then please leave.” When Jongin leveled his fiery glare towards Sejeong, she drew herself up even more and pointedly added, “We have other patients to attend to and you are currently disturbing our employees with your presence.”

At the very least, the artist had enough self-awareness to realize that the patients who were waiting in the lobby at this time were beginning to openly stare at the commotion happening at the front desk. So Jongin straightened up while still scowling darkly and asked in a clipped tone, “Will Dr. Do be back in two weeks?”

Soojung quickly nodded, fingers flying over her keyboard to get his next appointment locked in as soon as possible. Once she finished writing down the time and date on a new appointment card, Soojung pushed it towards the artist with both hands and her head hanging low as she silently willed him to finally go away.

Jongin pursed his lips as he swept the white card off of the counter and into his right coat pocket. Although his throat was burning with more questions for the receptionist, Nurse Kim’s equally strong stares were enough to keep him from pursuing the topic any further. With nothing else left that he could do at the eye clinic for now, the artist let out a rough exhale before turning away and walking out of the building.

The moment he was out of sight, Soojung sagged in her seat, limp as a rag doll. “You’re my hero, Sejeong,” she murmured gratefully.

“Any time,” the junior nurse kindly replied. “But you owe me a very detailed explanation on Monday.”

Soojung weakly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ll buy you and Kihyun lunch next week, and we can talk about it then.”

“Alright, sounds good.” Sejeong quickly glanced at her watch before grabbing a file folder from the end of the counter. “I have to bring in our next patient now, but let me know if you need me!”

“I will. Thanks again, Sejeong!”

The junior nurse grinned before stepping into the hallway and calling another patient’s name.

Meanwhile, Soojung let out a shaky breath before adjusting herself in her seat. She could finally relax now. Kim Jongin wouldn’t be back for another two weeks. And Kyungsoo would be here to handle him.

Everything would be back to normal.

Or as normal as it could be since Kim Jongin had entered their lives.

--

Yixing cheerfully greeted his friend when Jongin entered the car, but realized at once that the other male was in a foul mood. Hoping that the dark clouds would soon pass with time, Yixing silently drove the two of them home with only the soft din of classical music playing from the car radio in the background.

It wasn’t until they were safely inside their house that Yixing tried to engage Jongin once more. “Any new breakthroughs today?” the manager cautiously asked as Jongin carelessly kicked off his shoes.

“No.”

Although Yixing wore a patient smile, his eyes darted worriedly to Jongin’s shoes, now haphazardly strewn at the entrance. He waited several seconds for the artist to pick them up and neatly arrange them on the shoe rack, as he usually did, but Jongin only shrugged off his coat and threw it over the staircase railing. Warning bells were now ringing at an ear-splitting decibel in Yixing’s head as he quickly scooped up the black leather dress shoes and carefully placed them on the top shelf with the rest of Jongin’s shoes before hurrying after the artist, who was heading into the living room, shoulders high and tense. “Jongin, did something happen during your appointment?” Yixing asked as he followed the other male into the spacious room.

“No.”

“Is something else bothering you then? Do you—” Yixing automatically stopped himself, before shaking his head and resolutely continuing, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” the artist emphatically answered.

The ends of Yixing’s mouth curled downwards as he stopped several paces behind Jongin, who was standing in front of the couch with his back turned towards the Chinese male. “Well…then is there anything specific you’d like for dinner?” he gently tried again.

“What part of no do you not understand?” Jongin suddenly snapped, causing Yixing to visibly flinch from the forcefulness of his tone.

“I—I just…”

“Can’t you see I want to be left alone right now?!”

Yixing winced again before cautiously answering, “Well, yes, I—”

“Then don’t talk to me right now,” the artist mercilessly ordered, whipping around to underscore his mounting ire with a scorching glare.

“But… But Jongin—”

“I’m not in the mood!” he harshly cut in. Jongin was about to continue lashing out at his manager until he saw the palpable disappointment and hurt in the Chinese male’s eyes. And Jongin immediately bit his bottom lip, thus preventing the rest of his rant from tumbling out and inflicting even more pain onto his close friend.

After all, none of this—whatever “this” was—was Yixing’s fault.

So Jongin utilized every modicum of self-control that existed within his body and reined in his intense fury, bringing it down to a manageable simmer. “I… I need some time to myself right now, Yixing,” the artist stated calmly and coldly. Although his body felt the exact opposite with how tensely his fists were clenched at his sides, Jongin managed to maintain this eerie sense of calm throughout his request. “So please, just… Just let me sit here in silence for a while.” The artist exhaled deeply after that while his fists curled even tighter to keep his body locked in place.

The hurt in Yixing’s gaze didn’t dissipate, but the manager still obediently nodded and quietly said, “I’m going out to run a few extra errands and drop off some snacks at Jongdae’s office then. He’s working overtime this weekend and—well, never mind. We’ll talk about it when you’re less…irritable.” With that, Yixing disappeared into the kitchen and, minutes later, left the house with a large lunch box in hand.

Jongin’s stomach twisted uncomfortably the moment he heard the lock in the front door click into place. Now that he was finally alone, all of the fight from earlier immediately sapped out of him and the artist’s lanky body unceremoniously sank into the couch.

Ever since meeting Dr. Yoo, it was as if he had stumbled into an enormous brick wall that he had no way of scaling over. And every conversation he’d had since then, every seething moment, had fed the fire of rage within him that roared itself to new heights as it tried to traverse this gigantic brick wall. But the top layer of bricks was nowhere to be seen as the fire continually bashed itself against the solid expanse, utterly failing to make a single dent that it could break through and escape into the open air.

Jongin’s rage had nowhere to go and the pressure was only riling him up even more as it vehemently fought the walls that were keeping him trapped and cornered like a mouse.

But he didn’t understand why his anger was so explosive and all-consuming. While Jongin knew that he’d never had the best control over his emotions, there was always a clear explanation as to why he was upset or annoyed or feeling down in the dumps in general. The artist could always trace things back from Point B to Point A and logically work out whether or not he was justified in his emotional outbursts.

But this time, as Jongin tried to pinpoint the source of his white-hot anger, all he could see in his mind was a murky haze. It was like he was trapped within a dense smokescreen, unable to clearly see anything in front of him. And every time the artist tried to bat away the smoke, it just resurged more thickly around him.

Everything was a muddle, a maze that he didn’t know how to navigate out of, and Jongin let out an angry scream as he screwed his eyes shut and pressed his fists against his temples. This manner of letting out steam, while not entirely effective, did manage to lessen the fog in his brain just a bit.

Enough for the artist to wonder when his thoughts had started becoming such a jumbled mess. This was beginning to happen quite regularly, to varying degrees, and Jongin had no intention of letting this continue any further. His mind used to be as sharp as a tungsten needle, as brilliant as the sun, and as clear as glass. The groggy, smoggy mess it was nowadays was a horrifying slight on his previously pristine record and reputation, and Jongin was no longer going to tolerate this. Especially if his interpersonal relationships were being thrown to the garbage as collateral.

The artist furrowed his eyebrows deeply as he tried to pick his own brain and sift out any helpful hints that could lead him in the right direction. Without his usual painting and sketching schedules from before, the most recent months were like a blur in his head. But Jongin still did his best to meticulously comb through his memories, lest he go insane from his inexplicable mood swings.

As he dug deeper and deeper, Jongin noticed several recurrent figures and automatically frowned as their images became clearer. And the most glaringly obvious one of all donned a black leather jacket and the goofiest smile he’d ever seen in his life.

Park Chanyeol.

Even thinking of the guitarist’s name made Jongin’s stomach start twisting into painful knots.

Was he the culprit?

Was he the cause of Jongin’s irrational anger?

Did everything start changing for the worse once he entered the picture?

Before, when Park Chanyeol had just been a stranger that Jongin expected to never see again after their random encounter in the subway, the poor musician had only been a source of introspection for the artist. There had been no malice, no aggravation, or any such negative emotions towards Chanyeol back then. They were supposed to be ships passing in the night, never to see each other again.

Yet their paths had coincidentally crossed multiple times by now and quite frankly, Jongin hated it.

Park Chanyeol wasn’t someone he found value in being around.

Neither was Byun Baekhyun, that insufferable flirt.

Or Dr. Kim Junmyeon, the most shameless of them all.

Jongin could feel his fury rising once more, so he tried his best to blank his mind and reset the canvas so that it was blissfully empty. It worked—to a degree—until his frustration at himself returned, causing him to groan loudly.

After flopping on his side and burying his face against a small throw pillow, Jongin forced himself to carefully examine his train of thought and critically analyze what was triggering these outbursts of rage. Something had to tie all of this together and he was going to get to the bottom of it, no matter what. Especially since he still had bigger problems to continue dealing with.

Which led him to recall the disastrous eye appointment from earlier with Dr. Yoo Kihyun.

Jongin had enough sensibility to know that the junior doctor hadn’t actually been the problem earlier. And after seeing how he had upset Yixing earlier, the artist was beginning to regret how he had treated both Soojung and Kihyun today. Neither one of them was truly at fault for the murky haze that he was trying to stumble through.

The artist let out a deep sigh, knowing he had a laundry list of people to apologize to after today’s appointment. It reminded him of how he’d had to make amends with Kyungsoo several months ago, after Jongin had constantly blown up at him and used him as a scapegoat for all of the taller male’s problems.

Which then led to Jongin wondering why he was so vexed after his appointment today.

That seemed to be the recurring question.

Why, why, why?

Kihyun hadn’t been rude or malicious the entire thirty minutes they’d sat together in the examination room. Just like Kyungsoo, he’d been polite and professional, but still strong-willed enough to not let a hostile patient like Jongin walk all over him. They were incredibly similar, so it really shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did when Kihyun acted as Kyungsoo’s substitute for one afternoon. One single afternoon.

And yet, it had. Immensely.

Jongin replayed his interactions with Kihyun over and over again, comparing them with his usual appointments with Kyungsoo to see if anything—even the tiniest moment—could explain why he’d been so frustrated to see the junior doctor. Why it had been so earth-shattering for him to not have his usual ophthalmologist there.

But no matter how much he wracked his brain, no matter how many times he replayed every memory in his head over and over again like a broken record, nothing made sense.

Jongin was just about ready to give up and slink off to bed for an early turn-in. Giving up seemed to be his new specialty nowadays. That and carelessly burning every single bridge he came across without fail.

But why did it even matter?

As long as he was stuck behind this insurmountable wall, nothing would change.

Absolutely nothing.

With that thought, every ounce of fire instantly evaporated and Jongin was left as an empty husk on the couch. And he wished he hadn’t sent Yixing away, because having someone to talk to and distract him from these miserable thoughts was a much better prospect than wallowing in his room for the rest of the night.

But he only had himself to thank for the now empty house, silent as stone.

Just as the artist repositioned himself, ready to stand up and head to the stairs, Jongin inadvertently glanced at rectangular mahogany wood table in front of him. And his mind instantly registered the box of loose leaf tea sitting atop the table, alongside a tea set.

And then, it all clicked in his head.

And Jongin’s face immediately paled, all of the blood completely drained out of him, the moment he realized what was going on.

“…Oh no.”

♈♈♈

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALISON!! <3 Lowkey crying inside, because we're still stuck in this pandemic and it feels like it's never going to end ㅠㅠ BUT THAT'S NOT GOING TO STOP US FROM CELEBRATING YOU AND EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!! Even though we've both been crazy busy this year, you're ALWAYS in my thoughts and my life is nothing without you as a constant. You're smart, strong, caring, diligent, and no one understands my delulu brain like you do, HAHA. I also miss our legendary TFT double-up matches from last set (Academy/Challenger + Innovator/Syndicate) because lowkey, this set is too hard for me and I hope the mid-set update in a few weeks has comps I can actually master, LOL. :') ANYWAY, it's been a relatively quiet year for our boys, but enlistment era will soon be OVER and hopefully we'll be able to meet up again to watch videos like there's no tomorrow, because I miss reacting to content with you SO much. It's crazy how quickly time has flown, because EXO is TEN YEARS OLD and our friendship is FIFTEEN YEARS OLD now!! That's INSANE when I think about it and I'm just really proud of how we've grown since then. :') To celebrate this milestone, I went back and found some pictures of Kyungsoo from debut era, and OMG, he looks so YOUNG. FLAWLESS VISUALS. WHAT A KING. I hope this brightens up your day and that you have the loveliest birthday yet with your family!! And maybe next year the pandemic will finally be over. :') As always, you are WONDERFUL, and I miss you to the moon and back!! Have a fantastic birthday and WE WILL SEE EACH OTHER SOON!!