everything felt wrong and lucas had no idea how to make anything better. he didnât feel in control of his life at all, and while he kept trying to remind himself that no one really is, it didnât seem to help. he knew that there were millions of people who had a better grasp on their situation than he did, and he felt kind of envious. after what happened two weeks ago, he didnât think anything could get worse⌠and yet⌠life loved proving him wrong every time he felt that way. as if it wasnât bad enough that there was a chance that everything with yeji had fallen apart, now⌠he came close to losing her, and not in a way he was willing to. this is exactly what he had been nervous about, exactly why he ever opened up his big, stupid, selfish mouth.
when things looked this bleak, lucas always tried to find the good going on. no matter how awful life can get, there is always something to be happy about, always something to be grateful for. as he searched his brain and sat in his pitch black room, he couldnât see anything. there was literally nothing⌠nothing that made everything seem like it could be okay. right as he was about to give in and find some other way to make things feel bearable, his phone buzzes. he picks it up to see who was contacting him, holding his breath and praying it wasnât the gang, and thenâŚthere it was. the good thing. he could breathe again.
without a second thought or the opportunity to overthink anything, lucas sends a quick text back and leaves his room as fast as he can, grabbing his keys and tossing his jacket over his shoulder then slamming the door. if heâs lucky, he wonât have to see those four walls for a while, because the mere sight of everything that haunts him is enough to make him sick right now. he just needs to focus on the good⌠the good⌠âiâm coming, yeji,â is softly whispered to himself as he puts on his helmet and situates himself on his bike.
heâs thankful for the spare key given yeji was obviously in no state to let him in, though he still didnât feel comfortable walking in without warning, so he texts her that heâs coming down the hall and waits thirty seconds before entering. he knows she isnât sleeping, yet he still softly clicks the door shut and locks it behind him before making his way inside.
âyeji?â her name comes out hoarse and quieter than he intended, and he clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip before making it to her bedroom doorway. he was hoping heâd smile when he saw her, but her injuries felt like kick in the gut, leaving him breathless again. still, he tries his best not to look too worried, not wanting to scare her. âhey.â
she wonât deny that she isnât more grateful than sheâs ever been to be alive, but itâs impossible to shake the feeling that thereâs 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 sheâs trapped, stuck to the supposed comfort of her bed. sheâd 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 sheâs awake in the middle of the night, alone in the silence, she can no longer pretend she doesnât feel his absence. itâd 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 didnât see either of then either.Â
maybe he doesnât even want to see her. sheâd been told he was there when she was rescued, but that could mean anything. itâs coincidence, sheâs sure, but after thatâ how long did he stay? did he worry? does he think sheâs 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. heâs still her lock screen. smiling at her like sheâs the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky. nothing quite like how sheâd felt when she spoke to him last.Â
but time had passed since then, circumstances had clearly changed. perhaps even if he didnât want to reconnect, he would at least give a little of his time to come and put her out of her miseryâ tell her that this is their end. itâs the middle of the night, she reminds herself, he probably wonât even see it until the morning, but she opens their chat, anyway, and begins to type.Â
itâs the simplest of messages but she rewords it for fifteen minutes, unsure how to communicate with someone you desperately want back but donât 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 canât protect her from the unexpected beep of her phone and at first, she thinks itâs a ânot deliveredâ notice, but there he is, a name atop the smiling face of her wallpaper and the words âIâm comingâ underneath.Â
she hears the click of her lock moments after another message tone. itâs careful, quiet, so she knows itâs definitely him without even seeing the text. thatâs when everything hits her. heâs in her apartment, on the other side of her bedroom door andâ right in front of her.Â
âhey,â her voice is just as rough as his, her throat dry though it doesnât stop her from choking up. it doesnât feel realâ being alive, being so close to him again. heâs 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. âlucas... please come closer. itâs really you?âÂ