always you² | derek morgan. ✓

25 | goodbyes.

Two seconds.

That's how long it takes to lose something.

Two seconds.

That's how long it takes to take a life.

Two seconds.

That's how long it takes.

Just a snap of a fucking finger, and poof.

Poof, and it's all gone.

Just like that.

Two seconds.

I hear the person speak up, but my mind is too caught up, I don't hear what they say.

"I'm sorry-" I begin, "I- what did you say?"

"I asked what floor you were going on." The male states, his eyes meeting mine.

"Right, yeah, I- Six." I state, "Thank you."

The male nods, clicking the button and then taking a step back. He leans against the elevator wall, tilting his head back as he lets out an exasperated sigh.

There's clearly something stressful going on in his life — it's a good thing I held open the elevator, or else he could've lost something too.

"You okay?" I ask, finally speaking up.

The male looks over to me, giving me a small nod, "Yeah, I just- my dad is here." He states.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." I state in full sympathy, "Is he okay?" I ask, hoping for some good news to come out of today.

The male shakes his head, "The doctor's think he doesn't have much time left. I mean, I work here and even I should think that he doesn't, but-" He pauses, letting out another sigh, "He's my dad. I can't just let him go, just like that." He states, his voice breaking as he snaps a finger.

Just like that.

Two seconds.

That's all it takes to snap a finger.

"I'm so sorry." I mutter.

The male nods, "It's okay, it's life, y'know. Everything happens for a reason — or at least, that's what we're taught to think while in med school — makes the whole doctor career a lot easier to process." He states, giving his shoulders a small shrug as he pushes himself down, his back sliding down the wall as he sits on the ground.

I join him in the action, sitting down on the floor only a few meters away from him, "So, what's your story?" He asks.

I give my shoulders a shrug, "I don't have one." I state, shortly — not wanting to get vulnerable in front of this random stranger.

Every stranger is a face without a name.

"Everybody has a story." The male states, giving me a small smile, "C'mon, it doesn't have to be any kind of life story. Just- what brings you here?" He asks.

I shrug, "My best friend is dying." I mutter in a low tone, the words escaping from my lips with no hesitation as my mind finally begins to process what I just said, "My best friend is dying and there's nothing I can do about it."