she won’t deny that she isn’t more grateful than she’s ever been to be alive, but it’s impossible to shake the feeling that there’s still something missing. worse, she knows exactly what it is and not quite how to fix it. her entire body aches, yearns to stretch out, for her toes to touch the floor and the tips of her fingers linger far under the ceiling even at their highest, but she’s trapped, stuck to the supposed comfort of her bed. she’d slept through the day, the multitude of god knows what in her system the only way to get her at enough peace to drift off. but when she’s awake in the middle of the night, alone in the silence, she can no longer pretend she doesn’t feel his absence. it’d only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like forever and a day too long since she last saw that stupid smile and twinkle in his eyes. though, the last time they spoke, she didn’t see either of then either.
maybe he doesn’t even want to see her. she’d been told he was there when she was rescued, but that could mean anything. it’s coincidence, she’s sure, but after that— how long did he stay? did he worry? does he think she’s naive and reckless to have ended up like this? she pulls her knees up a little, not quite to her chest but as close as she can get them before the pain in her right leg especially is too much to bear. she reaches for her phone on her bedside table, catching the sight of her empty glass on the corner. it even aches to breathe out a small sigh. he’s still her lock screen. smiling at her like she’s the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky. nothing quite like how she’d felt when she spoke to him last.
but time had passed since then, circumstances had clearly changed. perhaps even if he didn’t want to reconnect, he would at least give a little of his time to come and put her out of her misery— tell her that this is their end. it’s the middle of the night, she reminds herself, he probably won’t even see it until the morning, but she opens their chat, anyway, and begins to type.
it’s the simplest of messages but she rewords it for fifteen minutes, unsure how to communicate with someone you desperately want back but don’t want to push away by accident in the process. and when she hits send, she tugs the blankets over her head with her better arm, as if hiding in the darkness will make it all easier. however, a single sheet can’t protect her from the unexpected beep of her phone and at first, she thinks it’s a ‘not delivered’ notice, but there he is, a name atop the smiling face of her wallpaper and the words ‘I’m coming’ underneath.
she hears the click of her lock moments after another message tone. it’s careful, quiet, so she knows it’s definitely him without even seeing the text. that’s when everything hits her. he’s in her apartment, on the other side of her bedroom door and— right in front of her.
“hey,” her voice is just as rough as his, her throat dry though it doesn’t stop her from choking up. it doesn’t feel real— being alive, being so close to him again. he’s within reach, if only she could move. instead, she stretches her right arm out as far as she can, grabs at air to urge him closer as her body finally begins to tremble with loud, relieved sobs. “lucas… please come closer. it’s really you?”
he wonders how much she knows. probably not much, he reminds himself. her sister only got a few of the details, and he doesn’t even know if she shared her little knowledge with yeji. thinking back to the night before, he feels a tightness in his throat. he recalls the absolute dread he felt when he first realized that the “poor girl” was the one person on this god forsaken island that he was willing to die for. he would have taken all of the oxygen from his lungs if it meant that she could breathe, yet that meant nothing, because there wasn’t much he could do about it. he’s just glad that she’s okay... relatively okay, anyway.
then, he wonders what happened to her in the first place. he has a million questions, but he doesn’t know if he is even owed an answer. despite wanting to ask her, he figures it isn’t his place. he hopes that she’d choose to tell him all on her own, but he didn’t want to push. after all, he wasn’t sure how fragile she currently was. under normal circumstances, lucas wouldn’t pick the word fragile to describe yeji, but looking at her right now... he was afraid that she’d shatter if he so much as softly touched her skin. he was terrified of that happening, especially if he was the one who causes it.
lucas feels unsure, lost, and confused on a daily basis, but this that he was experiencing currently was an entirely new level of it. he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say... but, yeji practically decides for him, at least for now. he hates seeing and hearing her cry, but he also gets it. he guesses if he was in a similar situation, he might find himself doing the same exact thing. but, despite how bad it hurts and the way that witnessing it tugs on his heartstrings, he manages to remain mostly collected. as much as he is at any given time, anyway.
although his feet wanted to move as soon as the request left her lips, he hesitated. he continued lingering in the doorway for a short moment, though it isn’t long before his legs act seemingly on their own. his brain doesn’t even have a chance to catch up by the time that he’s beside her, but once it finally does, he’s confused about what to do again. he was standing next to her bed, within her reach, but now what? “yeah, yej... it’s me. please... don’t... you don’t have to cry.” it’s not true. she has every reason to cry, and he’s aware of that. he just hates seeing it.
finally, he reaches down and gently takes ones of her hands and holds it in both of his, looking down at her with sadder eyes than he intended. “can i get you anything? you thirsty? hungry?”
