A steady beeping sounded out throughout the small room.

Hakyeon didn't want to be forced to make these dissensions. To choose if someone should live or die – if someone was able to continue living, or take their last breath right then. He stared down at the young boy in the hospital bed, the teen had fire red hair, his complexion pale – an affect of the cancer he had. Hakyeon tugged on his black sleeve, his bottom lip coming between his lips. He'd wished Taekwoon got called on this one – of course he was never really good at his job. He hated it; Taekwoon was a thousand time's better than him at it...

He reached forward and brushed his fingers through the others red strands, noticing how the others breath was shallow, forced.

Hakyeon gave a long sigh before he lead down and pressed his lips to the teens.

The steady beeping slowed until it stopped abruptly.

He really hated this job.