sixteen
Make It CountSide note: I hope you guys know that I never intended to stop writing this fiction though the real life Kim Jongdae is gettiing married because this is a fiction, in the first place. So I'll write it normally till the end :D And I've already talked about the recent news here. So I hope everyone is okay with it, and wish only happiness for him! Thank you for reading!
16.
“Mom?”
A cough escapes as my throat sores when I tried to voice out even one word, and my head hurts like it is about to explode any minute soon – of course that is an exaggeration – but hell, it does feel that way somehow. The sound of water being poured into the glass convinces me more that someone is here with me in this unfamiliar yet warm room. Gradually, my vision turns clearer as I squint before a sight of Haneul with a glass of water greets me.
The back of my palm stings. Oh, I’m in the hospital.
“It’s night. Mom’s already gone home,” the boy informs then sighs as he lends a hand to her sister so that she could sit straight to have a sip of drink. “You should get back to sleep, noona.”
“I’ve already had enough,” I huff then turns to my brother as soon as I catch a glimpse of the view outside. My lids droops, giving him an unamused gaze, “And yes it’s already very late so why are you still here?”
“I’m leaving, anyway,” he rolls his eyes, then leans down to reach the small bag that he placed right under the bed. “I thought all the hypothermia, malnutrition and whatever that you had could change your cold attitude even a bit,” he squints at me, mocking, “…but what was I even expecting? How bold I was to be able to have that kind of hope? And how many days have you skipped your meals, really?”
My lips pursed together upon his last question but quickly, I shove it away with a wonder of mine, “Why are you wording it like I’m the most awful person ever?”
His eyes widen at me, pretending to be surprised by my question, “You aren’t?”
“Noh Haneul…!”
I hiss, my hand already clasp the blanket, ready to throw it right on his face at any next second however the kid has already flinches then giggles cheekily for he has succeeded in getting on my nerves the first thing after I wake up. And the situation shifts my mood to a confused, yet still annoyed in a weird way as soon as the door of the semi-private ward being sled open – revealing the man, none other than the next door flower boy.
“We’re lucky that your sister is not sharing the room with another patient or else, all of us would be chased out.” The guy casually walks in, putting his small bag on the vacant bed right by the door and flickers at me and my brother. “Ga Eul noona, you sounded to be very healthy for a person who just woke up from a 24 hours’ sleep,” he sounds sarcastic that it itches me because I am not able to argue now. I am long defeated. “And Haneul, dear, the car’s waiting for you.”
“Alright, hyung.” The boy waves to me, “Goodnight, noona. See you tomorrow.”
“Hold on, hold on.” I speak, making the boy halts, gaining both of their attention. My eyes travel from the door to Jongdae’s face, brows furrowing, “You’re going to let my brother take a cab at this hour? Alone?”
“Noona, no. It’s…”
“Baekhyun’s outside. And before he’s our employer, he’s my friend. So he’ll drive the kid home,” Jongdae explains briefly, leading me to lean against the pillow once more, relieved to hear that. Then Haneul tilts his head, resting it on the door whilst his arms crossed.
“So can I leave now?”
“You’re leaving me behind alone with this guy?” I whine in disbelief, pointing at Jongdae as if he is the guiltiest person in that moment. And the space between the man’s brows forms a crease, his two pointing fingers too are directing right on his face. His tone raises, “Wait. What’s wrong with this guy, by the way?”
Meanwhile the kid by the door is already exhausted by my antiques, he murmurs as his eyes roll in annoyance, “It’s not like this is the first time we did that. Jongdae took care of you all night yesterday, noona. So be good to him,” a finger of his pointing at me and teeth gritting, warning nicely.
Just like that, the boy leaves right after dropping the bomb that crazily pulls a tense in my head. I have no idea on how to react upon that two last statements as Jongdae freezes at the same spot for a moment as well, perhaps is also taken aback by the abrupt fact revelation that is supposed to be kept as a secret from me. However as soon as he clears his throat awkwardly – to the point the sound that he made fills up the room – I squint, judging. My gaze follows him as he walks back towards the other bed.
“Why are you here?”
“To help your mother, taking care of you.”
“I’m a grown-up.”
“Well, let’s see. A grown-up who’s suddenly found unconscious in her own bedroom then was diagnosed suffering from hypothermia, malnutrition, low blood pressure. I’m not sure what else and how do you ended up having all those but do you think your mom would be convinced that you are able to take care of yourself?”
I chew my lips, running my gaze far away from his pair of piercing eyes. Seeing me keeping my lips shut, he sighs, “I know you might not be comfortable having me around but just accept the fact that I’m the only available person around right now. Or do you want your mom…?”
“No.” I don’t dare to face her now, to be honest. How should I explain this whole situation towards her? “But just agree that I’m too old for having someone looking after me.”
“Still, I want to take care of you,” Jongdae states the heartfelt sentence as if he is stating the weather. “It gets lonely at night, especially when you’re sick. I’ll be making sure that you won’t feel that way.” And I could not help but to gulp, deadpanned by his gesture. This guy could kill me, really. However the latter does not seem to care as he pulls out an A6 size book with a pencil from the small bag that he brought earlier then places the pillow so that it is against the wall before he rests his back on it. “Now don’t mind me. Go get some more sleep, noona.”
“I’ve had enough,” I frown, somehow irritated as I don’t get the attention that I secretly wanted.
The guy raises his gaze up, glancing, “I don’t bring any books for you to read.” His head tips to the television in front of us, “Do you want to watch TV? At this hour, usually they’ll play the dramas rerun.”
“I’m not Haneul.”
“Music?” he asks, taking out his phone and hands it to me, looking a bit regretful, “All of us forgot to bring your phone, but you can have mine. Well, only if you don’t mind listening to ballads and R&B,” Jongdae gives one-sided smile, faintly chuckles, “I don’t really know your preferences. But
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