RFL Ch 12.2

If you really break it down, the incident was more Pyo Hyungyeon’s fault. Yet, from that very day, Song Jaeyi had taken on the role of chauffeur and even looked after Sooin’s meals. He’d even covered Sooin’s café shifts for days at a time, so he’d already more than paid his dues. No matter what excuse Song Jaeyi came up with, Sooin had every reason to refuse.

“I just want to go with you.”

Sooin was once again rendered speechless. His lips, parted to list out rebuttals, froze in place. It wasn’t some grand reason—just that Song Jaeyi wanted to tag along—and that left no room for argument.

“Aren’t you done with me now, Hyung?”

Song Jaeyi broke the silence again, slowly standing up. His shadow, disproportionately large compared to his small face, approached with long strides.

“The group project’s canceled too. Once you get that brace off, I won’t need to cover your café shifts anymore… Are you just going to pretend you don’t know me?”

“What? We’re still in the same department. And weren’t you the one who got upset?”

“Who’s upset? You’re the one who said you’d ditch me once the group project was over.”

Who’d taught him a word like “ditch”? Sooin half-swallowed a hollow laugh as Song Jaeyi closed the distance. Standing so near that his shadow loomed over Sooin’s head, he muttered.

“We’re not done yet.”

His low, gritted voice felt unfamiliar. Sooin blinked up at him.

“You said you’d make me a better person. You haven’t done that yet, Hyung.”

In truth, with no need to tolerate Pyo Hyungyeon anymore, the whole “social skills training” had lost its purpose. Even if the two of them got into a fistfight now, Sooin had no reason to intervene. Whether Song Jaeyi got into trouble or Pyo ended up a mess, it didn’t matter to Sooin anymore. Knowing that full well, he still gave a troubled smile.

“…True enough.”

He wanted to let it slide. They weren’t dating, they weren’t sleeping together. They’d keep running into each other at school anyway, so what was a few more lessons…? It’d be fine, right? As Sooin scrambled for excuses, Song Jaeyi sat beside him. Letting out a big breath as if finally relaxing, he murmured.

“What kind of lesson ends in one session?”

“You’re right. We only did it once back then…”

“And honestly, half of that was spent having sex—”

“Hey, hey, Jaeyi. Someone might hear you.”

Sooin stifled a laugh and patted the thigh pressed against his side. He gave the firm muscle a few rough taps. Song Jaeyi covered Sooin’s hand with his own. His large hand enveloped Sooin’s, threading their fingers together.

“See? I’ve still got a lot to teach you.”

Song Jaeyi blinked with innocent eyes. But his husky voice and the way he rubbed between Sooin’s fingers were anything but pure.

Sooin didn’t call out the flimsy seduction. Instead, a greedy desire to fall for it, even just for a few days, began to creep up.

It was just a few lessons. Not dating, not sleeping together.

Repeating that excuse to himself, Sooin adjusted his grip. Flipping Song Jaeyi’s hand over and interlocking their fingers tightly, he squeezed hard, making Song Jaeyi’s thigh twitch.

“I’m heading to the hospital by nine tomorrow.”

Releasing the firm grip, Sooin stood first. Waving at Song Jaeyi, who looked slightly flushed, he smiled.

❤︎₊ ⊹

The arm freed from the brace felt strange. The skin tingled coolly, as if coated in mint. Twisting his wrist this way and that to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation, Sooin noticed Song Jaeyi, who was driving, sneaking glances at him.

“Does it hurt?”

He must’ve thought Sooin was in pain. Sooin shook his head with a small smile.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s been fine for a while—just still feels weird.”

“Okay. To the café then?”

“I’m good with that, but don’t you have class?”

“…”

He did. Song Jaeyi pressed his lips shut for a moment before changing the subject.

“What time’s your shift? Let’s eat first.”

How could someone be so transparent? Even after experiencing it multiple times, it was still amusing and endearing. Sooin chuckled lowly. He decided to play along again.

“Sure.”

That very morning, Song Jaeyi had shown up at his place by seven. Dozing off in his car without even ringing the bell, he’d softened Sooin’s heart. A single meal wasn’t enough to be harsh about.

Perhaps because Sooin agreed more readily than expected, Song Jaeyi seemed pleased. He even mentioned, in a rather younger-sounding way, that there was a place near the café he’d wanted to visit with Hyung.

The car glided smoothly to a stop at a familiar spot. It was a Western restaurant the café manager had recommended to Sooin several times as a good date or blind date spot. The source and intent were so obvious it made him laugh again.

The restaurant stood out with its elongated, dome-like exterior. Pushing open the heavy wooden door in the center revealed stained-glass windows and a high ceiling reminiscent of a church. Sure enough, a piano sat in one corner, surrounded by a platform, flowers, candles, and lace decorations. The vibe was anything but ordinary.

“They hold weddings here on weekends.”

Bathed in the soft lighting that made him look even more striking, Song Jaeyi explained casually. He then led the way to a table marked with a <Reserved> sign.

“Sit.”

To top it off, he pulled out Sooin’s chair. Sooin quickly covered his mouth. The urge to tease was overwhelming, and suppressing his laughter was a struggle. Shutting his eyes tight to wipe away the grin, he headed to the table. Sitting silently in the chair Song Jaeyi had pulled out, he barely swallowed his amusement. For a moment, a mischievous thought crossed his mind—What if I suggested we hold our social skills lesson in this romantic setting? How would he react?—twisting his lips.

“Why’re you laughing?”

Song Jaeyi, now seated across from him, narrowed his eyes. Caught, Sooin let out a bright laugh.

“Just felt like it?”

Spilling the rest of his giggles with a half-hearted explanation, Song Jaeyi’s brows twitched, his expression torn between delight and annoyance. I’m starting to feel weirdly offended, he muttered lowly, prompting Sooin to laugh a bit more. Just then, the phone on the table buzzed.

The vibrating screen lit up. Below the large call icon, the caller’s name popped up immediately. It was the caregiver.

In an instant, Sooin’s laughter vanished. His hand, stiffened with tension, snatched the phone. Even after pressing the button and holding it to his ear, he couldn’t bring himself to say “Hello?” right away.

Chaos filled the line. Ominous beeps from machines, shouts, and the frantic sound of footsteps mingled dizzyingly. The hospital scene seemed to unfold before his eyes, stealing his senses. The caregiver’s voice didn’t even register. His nerves zeroed in on the background noise, straining to catch what the doctors and nurses were yelling.

But the harder he focused, the more muffled his ears became. His breath tightened, like he was sinking underwater. That familiar sensation flooded back. Sooin hurriedly unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons.

His hands were so cold he could feel it through the fabric. Placing them deliberately on the table, they felt numb, like they weren’t his own. Get it together, he repeated inwardly, clenching his fists tight. His nails dug into his palms, making his knuckles bulge.

Then Song Jaeyi grabbed his clenched hand. Covering it warmly, he slipped his fingers between Sooin’s. The hand that had been resisting like it was fighting gave way defenselessly.

“What’s wrong?”

Song Jaeyi’s face was anxious, like he might leap up any second. Worry flooded his usually stoic expression. Seeing it gradually brought Sooin back. The caregiver’s voice started filtering through.

—Oh no, did I press the wrong button? I need to pick up… Sooin! Sooin-ah! Can’t you hear me?

“No, I can hear you. I was listening.”

—Uh, I think you need to come to the hospital now, that’s why I called.

Forcing a calm tone, Sooin relaxed his grip completely. Song Jaeyi rubbed the nail marks left on his palm as if soothing them. The warmth slowly cleared the clogged feeling in his ears.

—Don’t rush and panic, okay? It’s probably nothing, like last time.

Even so, the sense of breathlessness lingered. It felt like he was under a different pressure than everyone else. Taking a deep breath that puffed out his chest, Sooin replied.

“Yes, I’ll head over now.”

Cutting the call before hearing the full response, he stood. Song Jaeyi, losing the hand he’d held, followed right behind. Just a couple steps from the table, his hand was grabbed again.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, sorry. I was so out of it, I didn’t even say…”

Too frazzled to look back, Sooin had started moving but turned belatedly. Standing up without a word was so rude he could hardly believe it himself, managing a weak laugh.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to eat alone, Jaeyi.”

Squeezing the hand that held his once before letting go, he left the restaurant. Unlike the dim, cozy interior, the blinding sunlight stung his eyes. Feeling even more suffocated, Sooin undid another button.

There’s a bus stop nearby—no, I should take a taxi. Would calling a car be faster?

His scattered thoughts made his steps falter. The urgency dulled his usual efficiency. After taking a few steps in different directions and doubling back, Sooin pulled out his phone. His eyes darted to find a rarely used app to call a taxi.

Suddenly, someone snatched his phone. He’d just started entering the destination. Whipping around with a scowl, he saw Song Jaeyi studying the screen intently.

“Is this where you’re going?”

Sooin bit his lip, furrowing his brow deeper. Stretching out his hand without a word, he signaled he wasn’t answering.

Song Jaeyi handed it back obediently. Muttering the hospital name a few times as if memorizing it, he pressed his car key. With a beep, the lights of a white SUV in the parking lot flashed. Striding over quickly, he hopped into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life, and the car pulled up to Sooin. As Sooin stood staring, Song Jaeyi stretched across to open the passenger door for him.

“Going with me is the fastest.”

He was right—there was no time to wait for a bus or taxi. With no money, time, or peace of mind to spare, Sooin was a bundle of nerves.

With a rough exhale like a boxer, Sooin opened the car door.

At some point, he’d started thinking that refusing Song Jaeyi was getting harder.

❤︎₊ ⊹

The moment they arrived at the hospital, Sooin bolted toward the ward. On the way, he’d planned to thank Song Jaeyi for the ride and even offer gas money, but the second the car stopped, all that flew out the window. His mind, blank except for Suye’s name, propelled him out before the handbrake was even set.

The hospital corridor he rushed up was eerily quiet. The chaos from the phone had vanished like a lie. The suffocating silence made him hesitate. He dreaded lifting the curtain to Suye’s bed.

After standing frozen for a while, Sooin stepped into the ward. Steadying his expression with deep breaths against still-muffled ears, he moved forward.

“Oh, Sooin!”

Thankfully, beyond the curtain was a familiar, peaceful scene waiting for him. Seeing the caregiver’s bright smile and Suye safe eased his heart a bit. With a short sigh, Sooin checked Suye’s complexion. She was asleep, just as usual.

“Her oxygen saturation dropped suddenly, they said. Oh, you must’ve been so scared! Your face is pale. Sit here for now.”

“I’m okay.”

Suye’s face was serene, oblivious to whatever storm had passed through. Sooin brushed her forehead once and checked the monitor. The steady waves and familiar numbers didn’t look particularly bad.

“I tried to wait it out this time… but what if something happened? I had to call, just in case.”

“You did the right thing. Please keep calling me.”

Forcing a stiff smile, Sooin softened his tone with gratitude and patted her hand.

Time flew after that. He heard explanations from the head nurse and duty doctor, then waited for the attending physician’s rounds for another talk. The hopeful note was that it seemed more like an issue with the infusion pump than Suye’s body itself. But the doctor had a different conclusion prepared.

“She’s held on for three years, which is better than most cases… but recently, signs of complications have started showing. There’s no clear change in her brain function tests either.”

Sooin knew what he was skirting around. He’d studied it all—how most like Suye passed from complications within a year or two, and how no change in brain function meant waking up was unlikely. Still, he bowed as if he didn’t understand.

“So we’ll start treating the complications too. Please take care of her.”

Parting with the reluctantly nodding doctor, Sooin sat in the ward for a long while. Beside Suye, still maintaining stable vitals, he stared endlessly out the window.

Only when the sun began to set did he stand. No matter how he resisted, the craving for a cigarette overwhelmed him. Expressionless, Sooin headed to the basement convenience store.

The hospital store, past dinner time, was quiet. He considered grabbing something to eat but had no appetite and passed. He paused, though, at a snack display tied to some character collaboration. A dumb-looking bear, similar to the white doll he’d picked for Song Jaeyi, was plastered on it.

Only then did Sooin think of Song Jaeyi. Buying cigarettes and heading up, he rummaged through his pockets.

Even if it’s late, I should at least thank him.

Pulling out his phone after a while, he found it silent. He’d expected Song Jaeyi to have piled up texts and missed calls, so it was surprising.

Who just leaves someone like this without a word? He’d thought Song Jaeyi would’ve sent a barrage—or maybe he was so mad he didn’t even want to call. Either way, Sooin had no excuse…

With a shallow, long sigh, he crossed the hospital lobby. Peeling off the cigarette pack’s wrapper, he dialed as he stepped out, not expecting an immediate answer.

Contrary to his thoughts, the call connected after two rings. It was faster than anticipated. Stopping dead at the entrance, Sooin said, “Hello?” in a skeptical tone.

—Are you okay now?

A low voice came through, accompanied by the sound of wind. A faint mechanical hum buzzed too. In a flash, Sooin gazed beyond the automatic doors. Through the double panes opening and closing, a familiar face appeared.

Song Jaeyi sat on the stone railing by the entrance. Looking fresh as if he’d just arrived, he gave a light smile.

—I was going to wait thirty more minutes, and if there was still no word, I’d tear the hospital apart.

A rare joke deserved a reaction, but Sooin couldn’t speak. He just blinked wide-eyed.

He’d rushed here mid-lunch. Now, the outside was dim. At least six hours must’ve passed.

Had Song Jaeyi been sitting on that cold stone all that time? Without a single call or text, without asking around or chasing after him, just… waiting?

Everything was uncertain. At a busy entrance with countless passersby, waiting didn’t guarantee they’d meet. Sooin hadn’t left him a message, and if he hadn’t seen that bear doll in the store, he might not have thought of Song Jaeyi until tomorrow morning.

Yet Song Jaeyi had waited for him, without promise, as if it was fine no matter when or how he showed up.

Suddenly, Sooin’s eyes burned. Startled by the surge of emotion, he shuffled sideways. Song Jaeyi’s expression—half glad, half proud—began to narrow with concern.

—What’s wrong?

That was the trigger. The cigarette and lighter clattered from Sooin’s hand.

Bursting through the narrow glass door beside the automatic one, Sooin ran out. He felt if he didn’t escape now, he’d be consumed by terrifyingly raw emotions. Stuffing the still-connected phone into his pocket, he didn’t even end the call.

The vast parking lot stretched out beyond the hospital. Sooin darted between rows of cars, running aimlessly. He’d meant to stop after a short sprint, but rapid footsteps chasing him added urgency. Before he knew it, he was sprinting full force.

“Are you crazy? Why’re you running where cars drive?!”

Song Jaeyi wasn’t an easy opponent. Just as Sooin nearly bolted out of the lot, his collar was yanked back. The panting, shouting voice was charged with agitation—a tone Sooin had never heard from him before.

“Ha, fuck, seriously… I waited because I was worried, and you run away…”

Cursing roughly, Song Jaeyi turned Sooin around. Reluctantly facing him, Sooin bowed his head, steadying his breath. The sudden sprint left him gasping, unable to calm down quickly.

Couldn’t I just play along? Say it’s because I ran too fast, that I’m tired? Staring at the tears dripping to the ground, Sooin thought.

His ragged breathing grew wetter. Sobs burst out, impossible to hide. A short “Ugh” escaped, and from there, it was uncontrollable. Song Jaeyi froze in shock as the sobs leaked out.

Soon, Song Jaeyi pulled Sooin into a tight embrace. In the middle of the asphalt parking lot, surrounded by cars, it was a stark, unglamorous place. Standing there, Sooin didn’t know what to do with the grief welling up. He opened his aching throat and cried like a child.

“Why didn’t you… leave… fuck, why… wait… ugh, wait…”

If you do this, I’ll really want to get greedy.

The hidden feelings spilling between sobs were so tender they made Sooin even sadder. The pitiful “Hic” he let out was embarrassing, fueling more tears.

Song Jaeyi, stiff with shock, kept rubbing Sooin’s back. Without carelessly saying it’d be okay, he comforted him for a long, long time.