Someone keeps shouting my name. The sound is muffled, but it still cuts through him clear as day. His surroundings aren't clear -it's dark, but hes not paying attention to anything around him. All he exists in is the voice screaming for him. I know I need to get to them, and help them. I'm never scared, but I am now. His body isn't in any pain anymore as he fumbles his way forward in the dark. He can't even tell from which direction the voice is coming from. All of a sudden, he's walking through an apartment building hallway. The light overhead is harsh, and he feels it burn into his eyes as he continue walking hurriedly, passing dingy doors on either side of him. He's feet barely make a sound against the old, green carpet marred with questionable stains.
"Hey, hey..." Chan Jeol hears faintly someone speak.
He's skin feels burning hot in the light from the lamps he pases under, and yet he feels icy, his fingers numb. This all feels familiar to him; like he's walked down this very hallway a million times. He finally find the door he has been looking for. He fumbles for a sword, but with mounting panic, he comes up empty-handed. He has to go in. He throws himself against the door and it flies open with a loud crack! And he stumble into the apartment.
It is old and dirty. He's been here before too. He panics and start sweating, unable to stop the scene from playing out for him. He trys to resist, but his feet bringing him further into the apartment.
"No, no." He mumbles, sweat blurring his vision as he walks into the room.
"You're alright." A faint voice speaks.
As he already knew, he find him in the middle of the dark, sulky room, lying on his side, back toward him. Chan Jeol by his side, sweating. He places a shaking hand on his cold arm, his sweat making the bruises on his pale flesh dance and contort like watercolor on a canvas. Shaking, he turns around.
"Please, please stop." He says, his sweat falling down on the floor, but he can't stop what has already happened
In the blink of an eye, his whole body goes completely limp. He feels warm. Relaxed. He breathes in deeply, and out. In. And out. He feels like he just finished a hard workout, hid body is completely spent and content.
"You're alright." The bodyless voice tells him again. "Come back to me."
He sighs, not wanting to leave the feeling of warmth and safety, but feel it pull away from him and hr instinctively follows it. His eyes flutter open and the momentary feeling of bliss escapes him as he feels his physical body again. I'm cold.
"Hey." That voice speaks and Chan Jeol turns hid head to the right, now being able to pinpoint where it is originating from.
Hwang is hovering right there, her brows slightly furrowed, eyes searching his, concerned. I feel so tired. He trys sitting up, but Hwang places a warm hand on his cold, clammy shoulder, pushing him softly back into the pillows. He's back on the old couch in the dark cabin the lonely valley under the gargantuan mountain.
He shivers.
"You're safe." Hwang says, still looking slightly frightened. It is not something he seen on her before; fear. He looks away, suddenly feeling horribly ashamed and naked.
"Who was that?" Hwang asks softly, as if afraid that if she spoke at a normal volume he would fall apart.
"No one." Chan Jeol lies, slightly moving his shoulder away from her hand, which she removes. "It was just a dream."
He knows by the small silence that follows that hid lie has not been bought. He wishes himself anywhere but lying on the couch like this under Hwang's gaze. Even Seong Min's company would preferable right now. He stares blankly at the wall furthest away from Hwang and she lets out a small exhale.
"Someone told me once that talking about things helps." He can't believe she's throwing his words back at him.
Chan Jeol turns his head and shoots her what hr hopes to be a look that settles the discussion. Apparently, it does not, as Hwang only tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes.
"I don't want to talk about it." He tell her, his voice slightly anoyed, making his eyes well up.
Embarrassed, he try to look awey. Hwang doesn't say anything, she just sits there. He feels a pit of anger, or annoyance well up in him. Why is she being so bloody righteous, sitting there like that with that empathic look on her stupid face? Just in case she is listening in on my thoughts, he think of an especially rude string of curse words, but Hwang doesn't do anything to indicate she heard him.
In the middle of his middle school angsty self-pity party, he's hit by a wave of cold, and he shivers again, feeling weak and fuzzy. Hwang places the back of her hand on his forehead without speaking. Her hand feels cool and lovely against his forehead that feels like it is being on fire, and he closes his eyes at the sensation. Hwang mutters something to herself which he can't hear nor understand at the moment and she removes her hand to his disappointment.
"I'm not..." he begins, barely enunciating. "...feeling great."
"I can tell." Hwang mutters and goes to touch his bad arm, which sends a cold shiver through him.
"Don't..." he slurs, shuffling his body away from her, just wanting to be left in peace.
"I'm sorry, I have to check." She says, gently lifting his arm up ever so slightly towards her, setting it down tenderly to rest on his stomach. He's too tired to argue with her as she starts undoing his sling and makeshift bandage although a bolt of pain occasionally shoots through him. Hes nearly dozed off when he hears Hwang inhale sharply and curses to herself in what he can't definitely pinpoint.
"Hmm." He hums, his eyes shut, almost asleep.
"It's infected." She says, her accent flattening the sound of the words.
"Oh oh."
"Oh oh." She repeats. "I don't know..." She talks to herself and Chan Jeol slowly zones out, finding comfort in the lulling wave of sleep that keeps washing up on him.
"Hey, hey, come back to me." Hwang lightly shakes his shoulder, and he opens his sensitive eyes which definitely do not like the light right now.
"Hey, there you are." He turns his head and look at Hwang, who smiles softly. He clumsily lift his good arm and grab a thick strand of her white hair in his hand. He chuckle and pull down on it slightly.
"Hmm." Chan Jeol says, smiling, finding her hair amusing for some reason.
"Alright." She says, prying his fingers open and he lets go. She keeps hold of his hand and squeezes it softly, getting him to focus his gaze from her hair to her face again. She seems to slightly float left to right in front of his eyes.
"I never even asked for your name." Hwang says. "Can you tell me your name?"
"Hm-hmm." He say, smiling slightly. "Chan Jeol."
"Chan Joel." She repeats. "Good. Joel I'm no doctor so i need you to tell me what to do."
"I want to sleep. Sleep." He whines and Hwang puts a hand on his cheek and he gose still, the feeling of cold against hot so soothing.
"God you're of no help." She sighs and lets go of him and he vaguely sees her walk off and he lets his heavy eyelids drop, finally encasing him in darkness.