Heey everyone! I know I havent updated in a while my bad...
I just haven't had motivation but now I do yayyy. It is for whc1 tho..
I started a new fanfic on wattpad and I'm thinking of writinf the first season too,, I started from season two lol lol because I got lazy and just finished season two so here's a chap of start in season two and I would like some opinions pls!!
It's been three months now. Three months and my mind still won't let me rest. It's all my fault, isn't it.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, 3 a.m. flashing on my clock, feeling everything crush me, push me deeper into the mattress, can't breathe, can't move. No sleep. But it's okay. It's my fault anyway.
My phone rings. I flinch. Don't want to answer.
But what if it's him?
I grab it off the nightstand, staring at the caller ID, heart pounding — not him. Still… I answer.
"Y/n," a quiet voice says.
"Si-eun," I whisper back.
"You're not asleep," he says. His voice is so quiet.
Silence. Heavy. I almost hang up. I almost cry.
"I can maybe transfer to your school," I say, my voice shaking.
I hear him gasp, small and sharp. "But… I don't know if I should. It's an all-boys school anyway," I mumble, closing my eyes tight like that'll make anything better.
He doesn't answer. Just breathes.
"My dad… he works at the school board. He asked if Eunjang could let me in. Just me. Just… make an exception," I choke out.
"My grades are trash now. I couldn't get in anywhere else even if I wanted to."
"And… because of the incident," I whisper, voice cracking wide open.
"I see," he says. "If I do get in… your class?" I ask even though my throat hurts. "1-5," he says.I nod even though he can't see it. Maybe if I nod hard enough, it'll feel real.
"You should try to sleep, Si-eun. You have school tomorrow," I tell him, voice so soft it barely exists.
"I'll try, y/n. You should too."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the dark ceiling again, like it's going to swallow me. My eyes drift to the table beside my bed rows of pill bottles staring back at me. Depression, Anxiety, Sleep deprivation, Memories, Ghosts.
I push myself up, my body screaming against it, and drag my feet toward the kitchen. Messy hair, eyebags, same clothes for days.
Dad's still awake, hunched over his laptop like he can work away the sadness. He looks up.
Sees me. Sees everything.
"Babygirl…" he says, voice breaking as he pulls me into his arms. One hand stroking my hair.
One hand steady on my back, like I'll fall apart if he lets go. "I miss him, Dad," I say, and it feels like my heart is ripping itself out. "I know, honey. I know. It's going to be okay. I swear," he says, squeezing me tighter, but promises don't fix anything, do they?
"I got news," he says, waiting, waiting for me to say something, anything. I just blink up at him, too tired to even nod. "They won't open Eunjang to girls. Not yet," he says slow, careful. "But… they'll make an exception. For you."
An exception, a mistake. a broken thing they'll shove into their perfect halls.
"If you can show them why girls should be allowed there… maybe someday," he adds, patting my head. I don't answer. What's the point.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he says, softer now, almost like he's scared of scaring me more. "Class 1-5," I mumble, pulling away from him, my hands trembling."I want that class."
"I'll see what I can do," he whispers. "You should get some sleep, honey."
I don't really talk anymore. Words feel useless. Heavy. Dead.
I shuffle back to my room, feeling Dad's sad sigh follow me like a shadow. He always tries. He's all I have left. After mom… After everything.
I sit down on my bed, the bottle of water slipping from my fingers as I stare at the photos on my table.
One frame. Me. Mom. Dad. Laughing under the sun, four years old, like nothing bad could ever touch us.
Another frame. Me, Su-ho, Si-eun, and him. There used to be one more smile in that picture.Now it's just a ghost.
I should have held onto that night longer. I should have done more.
I grab the sleeping pills without thinking, throwing a few into my mouth, washing them down dry. Sleep is the only place it doesn't hurt. The only place I'm not awake.
I lay back down, eyes open, staring at the cracked ceiling above me. I close my eyes. Maybe this time…
Maybe this time, I won't wake up.
I turned my attention to the clock on my nightstand, 7 a.m. watching the numbers blur before my eyes. I sighed and looked at the ceiling again. I didn't know what to do.
What would he say if he saw me like this? My room is a disaster .. clothes piling up on the floor, bottles of pills scattered across the table, me looking like… this.
He'd probably be disappointed. He'd probably think I was a mess. I haven't visited him in so long.
I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle in my body screaming at me to stop.
I walked past the mess in my room, the weight of it almost too much. The bathroom mirror didn't give me any answers, just a reflection I barely recognized. My hair was dry, weak. I pulled it into a messy bun and sighed, too tired to care.
I put on a hoodie, sweats. I didn't care how I looked, not anymore. Grabbing my phone, my keys, I slowly made my way to the door.
My shoes felt like lead as I put them on, but I didn't think about it.
I walked out, and my feet led me to the bus stop. Every step was slow, heavy, like my body didn't want to move.
The bus arrived, and I climbed on, barely noticing the faces around me. I walked past a couple of friends, laughing, their voices like nails scraping on my skin.
My heart clenched. I heard his voice again, echoing in my head, and it felt like the air was getting thinner.
I sat down, eyes closed, hands pressed to my ears.
The bus ride felt like an eternity. But the time passed and I arriived at the hospital.
The sterile smell hits me the second I walk through the automatic doors — that cold, clinical scent that never seems to leave. It feels like walking into a place where time doesn't move, where nothing ever really changes. A place where people wait, suspended in some limbo, neither alive nor gone.
I hesitate just inside the entrance, the weight of the hospital air pressing down on me. I can't seem to breathe right. I feel out of place here, like I don't belong, like I'm intruding on some unwritten rule.
My feet move on their own, pulling me forward, but it feels like I'm walking in slow motion. The hospital sounds are muffled footsteps echoing in the distance, the soft murmur of voices, the beeping of machines that feel like they don't belong in the real world. None of it feels real.
I can't help but think of how Su-ho used to tease me about hating hospitals, how he'd laugh and tell me they weren't so bad, just full of sick people and bored nurses who would only care about their shifts ending. That laugh… it feels like it was a lifetime ago.
I round a corner and see a nurse walk by, her face focused and distant. I force myself to keep moving, but my heart is beating too loud in my chest.
When I reach his room, it's like the world goes quiet. I stand in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat. It's too much. Too real.
Su-ho is lying there, pale and still, his body hooked up to so many machines that I almost can't tell where he ends and the wires begin. His face is almost the same, but different. Too quiet. Too still. He looks like he's sleeping, but I know better.
I don't know if I should step closer or if I should just turn and leave. I don't want to wake him, but I don't want to leave without saying something. Saying what? I don't even know. I haven't said the right thing to him in so long.
My hands shake, and I can't tell if it's the cold or just the way my insides feel like they're being crushed. I open the door, I take one step forward, then another, and stop just a few feet away. I stare at him, trying to see the person I used to know — the one who laughed and made everything feel okay.
But this is different. This is real. And I don't know if I can handle it.
My voice cracks as I try to hold my emotions together. The words feel like they're caught in my throat, but I push them out anyway, barely able to breathe. I sit down next to him, my fingers trembling as I reach for his hand.
It used to be so warm, so full of life — but now it's cold. So cold. My hand, already chilled from the hospital air, feels like it's sinking into his, a stark reminder of how far we've fallen.
"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while."
The words burn as they leave my lips, a searing ache in my throat that feels like it could tear me apart. I swallow hard, but it doesn't help.
I don't even know what to say. I don't know if you can hear me, if you're still in there, but I need to talk to you. I need you to know.
I tell him about how I see Si-eun less and less, how we've drifted, and how I've let it happen. How everything feels like it's slipping through my fingers, and it's all my fault. I tell him about how I feel so disconnected from everything, like I'm not even part of this world anymore.
"But it's okay, right?" I whisper to him, my voice shaking. "I should've been there with you. I should've been faster. Stronger…"
My voice cracks, and before I can stop it, the tears start to fall. They burn my cheeks, the weight of them pushing down on me until I can't breathe. I try to blink them away, but it's useless. They keep coming.
I want to reach out, to do something, but I can't move. Not even for him.
"I'm sorry." The words slip out of me, a quiet whimper, before I even realize what I've said. I don't give myself time to think, to breathe, before I turn and rush out of the room, the weight of it all suffocating me.
My body moves on it's own, and before I know it, I'm in the empty corridor. I stumble, my legs shaking as the flood of tears I've been holding back spills uncontrollably. The soft sounds of my sobs echo in the hall, but there's no one to hear them.
I slide down the cold wall, my back hitting it with a dull thud. My hands clutch at the fabric of my hoodie, pulling it tight around my chest like it could somehow fill the emptiness that's hollowed me out.
I feel so small, so powerless. So broken.
I don't know where the tears end and the pain begins. It's all tangled, a mess of guilt, grief, and regret. Nothing makes sense, and I don't know how to stop. How to fix any of it.
I pull out my phone to call Si-eun. I needed him.
I wait… and wait. My fingers tremble, and my heart beats erratically in my chest. I feel like I'm going to drown in my own thoughts, drowning in the weight of everything. Finally, the phone clicks.
"Si-eun.." I let out a small whimper as the tears won't stop, the regret pushing me down and down.
"y/n? What happened? Are you okay?" He says a pinch of worry in his voice. "I came to visit Su-ho." Not saying anything else.
"Wait for me." He says and hang ups the call. I dropped my phone on the ground. Su-hos voice in my head again making me want to rip my hair out. Feeling so guilty I just shake my head my hands tangled with my hair as the tears just keep pushing out. I wanted to vomit all the nausea making me feel even worse.
I sit there in silence, my sobs loud in the empty hallway, but nothing else can be heard. Everything's muffled, like I'm living in a soundproof bubble, the world outside moving on without me. I lose track of time, minutes… hours? It doesn't matter. I can't stop crying. My head on my knees.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and saw Si-eun in his school uniform. I tried to get up, but my body wouldn't let me. My knees weak, head spinning, and the burning in my throat.
"Si-eun." I manage whisper out.
"y/n.." He breathed out and pulled to my feet. I stand there, clutching at my chest, feeling the rawness of it all — the guilt, the nausea, the overwhelming emptiness. Si-eun's arms are steady as he helps me up, but I just want to crumble into him, to let him take away all of it. But I can't. I'm too afraid to burden him more. I don't know if I even deserve his help.
Si-eun doesn't say anything for a moment, just standing there, his hand still resting on my shoulder. He looks at me, his eyes filled with concern but also something else — confusion, maybe. Maybe he doesn't know how to help. He never was good at showing his emotions.
I want to tell him that it's okay, that he doesn't need to do anything. But the words get stuck in my throat. It's not okay. None of this is okay.
He shifts on his feet, unsure, his gaze flickering down to the floor, then back up to me. For a moment, he looks almost uncomfortable, like he's trying to figure out the right thing to say. But there's nothing to say, is there? Not when you've already said everything that hurts and there's nothing left but the aching silence.
Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks.
"Do you want to… talk about it?"
His voice is low, hesitant. He's trying, but he doesn't know how. His hands hang by his sides, clenched in tight fists like he's holding himself together. It's clear he wants to be there for me, but he's just not the type to pour out his emotions — not even for me.
I want to say something, anything, but I can't. I'm still fighting to keep my breath steady, to stop the tears from taking over completely. I don't even know where to start.
Instead, I just shake my head, feeling the weight of all the words that don't come out. I can't talk about it. Not now. Not when it feels like the world is closing in, and every breath is an effort.
Si-eun stands there, his gaze softening slightly, but there's a tension in his posture — like he's fighting with himself, wanting to reach out but unsure if he should. His eyes meet mine again, and he exhales, like he's letting go of some invisible weight.
"It's okay," he says, though the words sound almost foreign coming from him. "I don't know what to say… but I'm here."
I don't know why, but hearing those words, even from him, makes the tears start up again. It's not enough. I wish it were, but all I want is to hear him say that he's not going anywhere, that he'll stay with me no matter what. But I know Si-eun — he doesn't know how to do that.
I don't say anything back. Instead, I just nod, a weak, shaky gesture, as the tears continue to fall. It's not perfect. It's far from what I imagined it would be, but somehow, it's enough. For now.
Si-eun looks at me, his expression hard to read, but his hand moves to rest on my arm, a tentative gesture, like he's trying to offer comfort in the only way he knows how.
I looked to the side, signaling to Si-eun to sit down. He nodded quietly and sat beside me on the bench. My legs felt like they were made of lead. If I didn't sit down, I'd probably collapse. My head was spinning, everything around me felt too loud, too overwhelming.
"I…" I started, but the words got stuck in my throat. I didn't know what to say. How do you explain the way your heart is shattering? How do you explain the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once?
Si-eun didn't speak. He just sat there beside me, his presence steady, though his silence was heavy in a different way. He wasn't trying to fix me. He didn't know how to.
"I don't know if I can keep going anymore…"
The words tumbled out without me meaning to say them. My hands were still shaking, my chest tight with a pressure that felt like I couldn't breathe. The walls around me seemed to be closing in, the air thick, suffocating. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.
I didn't want to burden him anymore. I just kept quiet, staring at the ground, feeling that crushing emptiness settle in my chest.
Si-eun didn't respond right away, but I could feel his gaze on me. It wasn't pity, though. It wasn't anything that felt like a burden. It was just… silence. And then, finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet, but steady.
"You can. I know you can."
I looked at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. "We'll keep going on together."
It wasn't the perfect reassurance I needed, but it was enough. Enough to make me feel like I wasn't completely alone, like maybe, just maybe, I could keep going, too. Even if I didn't believe it myself right now, his words were a small thread of hope, pulling me just a little bit forward.
I nodded, though I couldn't trust my voice to speak anymore. Si-eun didn't ask me anything else, didn't push me for more. He just stayed with me, and that was enough.
