Silence descends on the room, thick with tension. Yoongi watches me, his eyes no longer holding their mischievous glint. Now he just looks confused, as if he has no idea what's going on. He watches me, his head tilting to the side slightly. His eyes go wide, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He jumps out of the chair quickly, taking a small step towards me.
"C-Can you see me?" He raises a hand, pointing a slender finger at me. At a loss for words, I just nod. He steps back quickly, his legs phasing into the chair behind him. My breath catches in my throat as I look at where his legs should be, the limbs instead lost inside a sea of polka dot fabric. He doesn't seem concerned though, instead he stares at me, his brows quirked. "You're not supposed to be able to see me," he states, his eyes once again studying me.
I blink slowly, hoping that it would work to take away this illusion. But yet there he still stands, legs lost in a chair, his lips turned down in a confused pout. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my heart. "I can see that much," I reply cooly. His eyes snap to mine, surprise written on his features, as if he had forgotten that I could actually speak. I watch him and he does the same, both of us taking this time to evaluate the other. After a few moments, a small breaks out across my face. "How are you, Yoongi?"
He balks at the question, his mouth dropping open. He takes a small step forward, the front of his leg poking out of the chair. "Aren't you scared?" He leans forward slightly, anxious to hear the answer.
"Why would I be scared of you?"
Scratching the back of his neck, his eyes dart around the room. When they land back on me, they're no longer confused, instead, they're intrigued. "I'm a ghost, Hoseok. Wouldn't that scare anyone?"
I think about his words for a moment, trying to think the best way to pose my answer. I raise my eyes, meeting his curious stare. "Are you here to hurt me?"
He freezes, my question taking him by surprise. "No, I'm not here to hurt you," he answers, shaking his head slowly.
Holding my hand out to him, I smile. "Well then it's nice to see you again, Yoongi." His eyes dart to my hand, but he doesn't step forward to take it and, after a few seconds, I drop it back onto the bed. I keep the smile plastered on my face and he watches me skeptically. "I saw you in my coma." He nods quickly. "Why?" I ask, curious.
He stares at me for a few moments, and I start to think that he's not going to answer me. So when he speaks, it startles me slightly. "You needed to wake up," he states nonchalantly.
"What do you mean?" He doesn't give me an answer, he just shrugs his shoulders. I want to groan at the casual response, to demand that I have a right to answers, but I let it go. Honestly at this moment I'm just too exhausted to muster up the energy I know it would take to fight him on it. My mouth opens wide, a loud yawn escaping me.
"You're tired," he observes, his eyes watching me impassively.
"It's crazy, right?" I laugh, leaning my head back into the pillow. "I just slept for two months, but I'm still tired." I turn my head, the pillow case tickling my nose as I look at the pale boy beside me. "Hey, Yoongi?"
"Yeah?"
"It didn't feel like two months," I admit. I turn back, staring up at the speckled ceiling. "In there with you, I mean. It only felt like a few minutes."
"Time passes differently there," Yoongi says, his deep voice lulling me closer to sleep. My eyes drift shut as I listen to him speak. "What feels like minutes there could have been years here, Hoseok. You're lucky that it was only two months." He sighs. "You're lucky you're alive at all. You almost died," he says quietly.
"But I didn't," I say tiredly.
"It shouldn't have happened at all." The bitter tone of his voice catches my attention, pulling me back from the edge of sleep. I crack my eyes open and look at him, my heart clenching at the sight of him. He stares at the ground, his blonde hair falling over his eyes, his shoulders slumped as if he's carrying the weight of the world on them.
"Yoongi," I call out to him. He raises his head slowly, his eyes sad. I raise my hand, beckoning him to come closer. He doesn't move for a second and I can see him pondering whether or not he should give in to my request. He sighs, taking a few steps toward me until he's an arm's distance away. "What's wrong?" I ask, my voice soft.
His gaze softens, his eyes sweeping over me. "This shouldn't have happened to you." He drops down beside me, his knees hitting the tile but making no sound. He gazes up at me, his eyes pleading. "I'm so sorry, Hoseok. Please forgive me."
I tilt my head, confused. "Why are you sorry, Yoongi?" I try to give him a comforting smile, hoping to put him at ease. "I don't remember what happened to me, but it was an accident. It wasn't your fault."
"Yeah, an accident," he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. He looks so sad in this moment, crouched beside my bed with his head down, that I feel the urge to comfort him. To take any of his pain away. I reach my hand out to pat his head, but I chicken out at the last second, pulling the limb back to my side.
"I don't know what you think you need forgiven for, Yoongi, but it doesn't matter." I turn my head, letting my eyes slide shut as I settle back into the pillow. "In the end only one thing matters."
"And what is that?"
"You're the only reason I woke up from the coma," I admit, remembering the blissful feeling I had in that abandoned park. "If not for you showing up, I would've stayed there. Just sleeping forever." I can feel my body growing weightless, sleep pulling me into its depths. Knowing that I need to comfort Yoongi more, I try to fight it, but I can feel myself slipping away as I speak. "You came for me, Yoongi."
I begin to drift off, my body relaxing as sleep claims me once again. As I sink farther and farther into my exhaustion, I hear Yoongi speak, his quiet whisper the last thing I hear before I slip under, my consciousness leaving me.
"I'll always come for you, Hoseok."
