"That hurt." Suho whines, frowning, and Jaehwa finds she hates when he does such a face, because it's obviously false yet still makes her feel guilty.
She does it again, to quell that guilt. And when Suho's face becomes flush with a mix of laughter and pain, Cha Jaehwa feels better.
The rain is sweet, and they sway alongside its slow rhythm, shoulders occasionally brushing.
It is Ahn Suho who stops first. Jaehwa continues her leisurely pace until she realizes that she lacks warmth, and she turns to stare at the boy oddly.
"Jaehwa."
There is a silence in where Jaehwa stares blankly at Suho. She takes a few steps back, and holds out her hand in the slightest so that the umbrella partially covers the both of them.
She feels her back slightly dampen, but she doesn't bring it up.
"It's cold, let's talk inside —" Jaehwa begins irritably, but her tone falls flat as Ahn Suho stares at her.
She swallows.
"Jaehwa." He repeats her name again, and his smile has fallen off his youthful face; Suho looks a few years older.
"I like you."
THE FLOWERS AGAINST Cha Jaehwa's chest feel as though made out of rubber; Flimsy and not fresh enough.
Her fingers feel clammy against the plastic wrapped around the bouquet of white tulips. She had debated over bringing flowers, but in the end grandmother ( Not her grandmother, but Ahn Suho's. Jaehwa just calls the woman as such because she had ordered her to ) pushed the flowers into her hands and sent her off.
Jaehwa swallows as she faces the white door. On the side is a small wooden sign indicating the current patient. She stares at the name for an absurd amount of minutes. The tulips seem to sag further into her delicate cradle.
At long last, the teen gains enough courage to slide open the door. The stench of chemicals is stronger within the room, hiding away the bitterness and sorrow within the walls of the dully white building.
Jaehwa exhales shakily. It has been a few days since she last talked to Ahn Suho, and the thought of speaking to him as he is now sent a small shiver running down her back.
The girl clutches her sweater closer to her body and walks inside. It is Ahn Suho who spots her first, and his eyes shift silently from her face to the bouquet in her arms.
"Hey." Jaehwa greets him softly, with all the care of a person who would break beneath her fingers.
Suho doesn't reply; He spares her a grunt, and turns his attention back to his hands.
"Your grandmother sent me." Jaehwa swallows and continues. With fingers too shaky to be hers, the teen unwraps the tulips and places them in the empty vase by Suho's bedside.
She smiles weakly; Suho must've gotten some visitors, after all.
He says nothing, and the silence grows louder the more Jaehwa lets it prolong.
"Are you —" She begins, eyebrows twisting, but the boy finally gets the urge to speak, and Jaehwa clamps her teeth against her lips.
"Don't act nice. Talk to me the way you did when you said you hated me." Suho spits the words as though he has been chewing on them for too long, and the taste grows too acrid to stomach.
Jaehwa pauses. She remembers what he's referring to with stark clarity. They had both said things that upset the other, perhaps crumbled a bit of their friendship, but that's a different topic.
"I never said that." Jaehwa scowls. Her eyes refuse to look anywhere past Suho's waist, because she knows what will greet her is something she doesn't have the courage to acknowledge — That someone like Ahn Suho could no longer be the dream he wished to be.
"I lost." He murmurs, gesturing to the thick cast that wraps around his leg. Jaehwa doesn't look at it.
"I lost because of you."
Because Cha Jaehwa, who had taken Ahn Suho's life and molded it as her own, had discarded him and he couldn't live without her by his side.
CHA JAEHWA BLINKS the morning grogginess from her eyes. She yawns, and stretches against the hard bedding.
"I like you."
Jaehwa runs her fingers through her hair. Blurry faces recollect within her brain, ones she cannot put name nor feature to.
She shifts the blankets around, twisting her body towards the water bottle that sits by her bed.
The water is cool down her throat.
"I hate you."
Cha Jaehwa looks onward, past the large window and out into the city.
Her heart feels strange against her chest. She ignores it, the way she always does.
With a small frown, Jaehwa scratches her head.
She wishes she remembered the people she dreamt about.
It's okay to shed the tears, but don't you tear yourself.
