THE SCIENTIST
COLDPLAY
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming up tails
Heads on a science apart
"Jeonggukkie hyung!" Hoseok says, enthusiasm and love practically dripping from his words. That is how Jeongguk is greeted when he enters Hoseok's hospital room, out of breath from running up the four flights of stairs after he didn't have enough patience to wait for the elevator (and because he's always been skeptical of elevators. A box floating up and down on four cables? No, thank you.) Though Hoseok's voice is weak and quiet, his excitement is ever-present, and his skin is pale from blood loss, but his beautiful smile is imprinted upon his lips.
"Oh, thank God." Jeongguk breathes out, rushing to his best (and only, he thinks with a pang of guilt) friend's bedside and giving him as good a hug as the breathing tubes and IV needles will let him. He breathes Hoseok in, and he can still smell the familiar scents of vanilla and pine beneath the sterile smell of the hospital that makes Jeongguk's nostrils burn. Just feeling Hoseok's chest rise and fall against his own with breath and feeling his warmth against his skin is enough to take a gargantuan weight off of Jeongguk's shoulders. "Thank goodness. Blazes, I was terrified, Hoseok. Truly." He murmurs into his best friend's shoulder.
"Eh. Didn't hurt that bad. Just a scratch." Hoseok jokes weakly, and Jeongguk's laugh gets caught on the lump in his throat as he remembers, as the past day comes crashing down on him once more; carrying any relief he had been given away like waves in a riptide. He pulls back quickly, but not suddenly enough to hurt Hoseok's wound. That "scratch" almost cost him his life—and it was all Jeongguk's fault. He had been so caught up in the fact that Hoseok was alive that he had momentarily forgotten about the fact that the reason he almost wasn't is himself.
"Oh, God. Hoseok, I am so, so sorry. You do not need to forgive me for what I have caused you, I-I cannot repay you—"
"Oh, shush." Hoseok says, reaching for Jeongguk's hand, but the boy snatches it out of reach. Does he not know? Did no one tell him who shot him? Did he not connect the dots?
"No, Hoseok, you don't understand. The man who attacked you was the bouncer from the night club, the same one who threatened me and knew I was accompanying you." Jeongguk explains shakily. He's terrified of losing the only person he has left, but he knows he needs to tell him the truth.
"I know, hyung." Hoseok says, and Jeongguk's jaw drops, unable to process how calm Hoseok is about this whole situation.
"Hoseok. It's my fault you're here. You almost perished because of me. I am to blame. Near death by association." Jeongguk emphasizes, and Hoseok manages a small, sad smile.
"I don't blame you at all, Jeongguk. You're not the one who shot me, are you?"
"I might as well have been, Seok—"
"Ah! Stop it right there." Hoseok interrupts him. "You didn't pull the trigger, therefore, by my logic, it's not your fault."
"That logic is quite faulty!" Jeongguk exclaims, and Hoseok only laughs, his big, bright, contagious laugh.
"Hyung. All you ever did was be born. Some people can't see that. They don't understand people like you, so they're afraid of you. Ignorant, scared people can do some crazy irrational things. Now, that's some faulty logic." Hoseok says softly, and Jeongguk's eyes sting with tears for what feels like the millionth time that day. He blames himself, deep down. Nothing anyone could ever say could make him lose the remorse he feels for inflicting this on Hoseok. But his best friend's words soothe him a little bit, and he's too exhausted to continue the debate. "I love you, Gguk. You're my best friend. And I know Seokjin isn't being as understanding as we hoped he would be, but he'll come around, because I know he loves you, too. There is no rationalized blame being placed on you by anyone but yourself." Hoseok says.
"You're too good for this world, Jung Hoseok. An angel on Earth, I swear." Jeongguk murmurs, carding his fingers through his messy hair, taking his wire glasses off his face to hang them in the neckline of his button up so he can rub his tired, teary eyes. Suddenly, Hoseok's smile fades.
"Jeonggukkie hyung, what happened to your wrists?" He asks softly, concern growing on his face. Jeongguk manages an incredulous laugh, trying to pull his sleeves down to cover his raw skin.
"There is no way you are making this about my wellbeing right now." Jeongguk says, and Hoseok gives him an exasperated look. "You quite literally were just shot, for Christ's sake. You cannot be serious."
"You best believe I am. Your wrists are bleeding. Who did that to you? I'll call the police." Hoseok threatens, and though Jeongguk knows he's only kidding, a sad hint of a smile blooms on Jeongguk's lips. How ironic.
"There's no need for that. One, because I am fine, two, because they are the ones who did it to me." Jeongguk explains a little, the concern in Hoseok's eyes shifting quickly to rage. He's never seen Hoseok mad before, and for such a genuinely joyful person Jeongguk finds the sight disconcerting. "Law enforcement does not take kindly of what I am."
"Jeongguk...God, that's awful. Holy shit. People are so fucking—they're fucking unbelievable. How ignorant can they be? Jesus Christ...well, you should still get your wrists checked out. Cleaned up and bandaged and stuff." Hoseok says, talking himself out of his anger. Though he's putting on a happy, enthusiastic face for Jeongguk's sakes, the elder can tell that the redhaired man in the hospital bed is still exhausted and in pain from his wounds. He simply doesn't have the energy to be angry at the moment. Jeongguk isn't surprised—that's just like Hoseok: selfless to the point of sacrifice.
"Hoseok, I'm fine—"
"Let me see." A voice from behind him sounds. The very sound of the familiar cream and honey tone and pitch makes Jeongguk's knees weak with shame, with worry, with guilt and grief and fear and the teensiest bit of hope. It's her. Jeongguk doesn't know if he can bear to turn around and face her, doesn't know if he will be able to take seeing the fright in her beautiful caramel-chocolate eyes for a second time; he only needed to see them once for him to break. Nevertheless, he turns around, compelled by the same odd gut feeling that convinced him to swipe right on the stupid dating app they met on; a time that now feels so long ago. Things have changed too much since then.
Haneul approaches him carefully, eyeing him hesitantly. Her eyes are red and puffy, and he can tell she's been crying, but she still takes his breath away. "Thanks, Haneul." Hoseok says from over his shoulder, and Jeongguk forces his muddled brain to form a coherent sentence.
"You've met, then?" He chokes on the three syllables. Haneul nods, averting her eyes to the ground. God, she can barely look at him. Jeongguk can't decide if he would rather see the fear in her eyes or have her avoid eye contact at all costs. In some masochistic way, he thinks he would prefer the former to the latter—at least, that way, he'd be able to see her beautiful eyes.
"Well, I will be fine. It is not necessary for you to, uh, examine me." He says, trying his best to make this the least uncomfortable for her as he can, praying she'll oblige to his wishes, but also yearning for the touch of her soft hands on his skin.
"Doctor's orders." She replies, as hard headed as ever.
"Haneul—"
"Dr. Choi, actually." She interrupts him, voice taut with an emotion Jeongguk can't pinpoint. God, what is it that she's feeling? Why is he so bad at this? Why can't he read people, figure out their emotions? Why is it so difficult for him to understand? Jeongguk doesn't know how she's feeling, but from the pang of hurt in his chest at her revoking first name usage, he knows it isn't good. "Now, if you'll come with me." She says, and then she's turning on her heel and walking out the door.
With a sigh, Jeongguk glances to Hoseok, who smiles at him tiredly. "Go get her, hyung." He says softly, and Jeongguk shakes his head.
"She's scared of me, Hoseok!" He whispers in exasperation. Hoseok only shakes his head, a knowing grin still on his lips as he begins to close his eyes.
"No, she's scared of what you are, not who you are." He says, and like that, he's asleep, and Jeongguk is left dumbfounded.
"You coming?" Haneul peeps her head around the doorframe. Jeongguk forces some oxygen into his lungs in a deep breath and nods, gathering up whatever courage he has left to follow her out the door, down the hall a little, and into a small exam room. "Sit." She says, and shuts the door. Jeongguk obeys, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, the wax paper that covers all hospital beds for sanitation purposes crinkling beneath his weight. He watches her as she pulls over a little table on wheels and sets a box on top of it. When she opens it he sees it's full of bandages and disinfectant. "Let me see."
"Haneul—pardon me, Dr. Choi, you really do not need to do this." He says, but a sharp look from Haneul elicits a sigh from him as he pulls back his sleeves. He doesn't miss the quiet gasp that escapes her lips when she sees the raw and cut up skin of his wrists, the dried blood that stains his skin and the edges of his sleeves. Taking the time to look at them up close, Jeongguk realizes that they really are worse than he's making them out to be. But he isn't really focused on them right now.
This close to Haneul, he realizes she has more freckles than her photos showed. They are sprinkled on the bridge of her nose, across her cheekbones. There are a few that are randomly scattered over her face—one under her eyebrow, another just where her dimple indents her cheek, another just beneath her bottom lip. She's beautiful, she's beautiful, she's beautiful, and Jeongguk can't get over it. He doesn't think he'll ever be over it.
His thoughts come to a lurching halt as her gentle fingers cautiously slip beneath his hands, flipping them over so she can see the underside of his forearm. The warmth of her ripples out from where she touches, and it undermines the freezing, frigid cold that imprinted itself into the very marrow of his bones back in the jail cell. He winces when Haneul's touch moves to the inflamed, torn up, sensitive skin of his wrists. Her eyes flick up to meet his, and instead of fear, worry fills them. The second she realizes that they've made eye contact, she diverts her gaze back to his wrists.
"Look at me." Jeongguk blurts out. He doesn't realize he's spoken it until it's too late. Haneul flinches back, withdrawing her hands slightly. "Haneul, please." He pleads, ducking his head a little to meet her eyes. "Please, I beg of you. Do not be afraid." He murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. Those melted pools of caramel and chocolate finally give in, and Jeongguk loses his breath. They're beautiful, but full of worry, of fear, of uncertainty.
"Jeongguk, don't. Just let me fix you up and go. Please." She says, voice on the brink of breaking. She's desperate, but there's something holding her back. Part of Jeongguk wants to listen to her, wants to please her, wants to do as she asks and let her do her job so he can get out of her life forever. Anything to make her happy again. Anything to remove the fear from her eyes. But another part of Jeongguk, the currently winning part, wants to talk, wants to figure this out, wants to take her hands and hold her close and comfort her, not be the source of her fear. His brain and his heart are conflicted, but just as Jimin always told him, his heart will never lose a battle.
"I never wished for you to find out this way." He persists.
"Then how were you planning on telling me? Rather, when? When were you going to tell me? Were you going to tell me at all?" She rambles, clearly frustrated.
"Of course I was! I just—I didn't know how!" He exclaims, running his hands through his mess of dark hair. Haneul scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, tan skin stark against her yellow scrubs.
"Hm, I don't know, maybe you could have just said, 'Haneul, by the way, I'm a Wanderer! Just thought I'd give you a heads up!'" She responds sarcastically, and Jeongguk raises an eyebrow at her in contradiction.
"Oh, really? And would that have worked? Would you have been completely okay with me after that? Would nothing have changed?" He asks, questions coming in rapid fire succession. Haneul opens her mouth to speak, but only shuts it when she finds herself speechless. "You told me yourself that you're scared of Wanderers, Haneul. How was I supposed to tell you after I found that out?" He says softly. "And maybe I was right not to. Look at you now. You're terrified of me."
"I'm not." She speaks up then.
"Haneul, you can hardly look me in the eye." Jeongguk scoffs, a sad smile on his lips.
"Because I'm scared that you don't scare me!" She suddenly raises her voice, the final words cracking. Jeongguk furrows his eyebrows, confused as she takes a shaky breath. "Everything I've ever been taught says that Wanderers are bad. That they're abnormal and unnatural, and if they're born without someone who loves them there must be something wrong with them." She says, and Jeongguk nods. It sounds about right, considering that's what he was taught all those centuries ago. "They never said that they're sweet. And kind, and caring and handsome and charming. They never said that Wanderers are like you, Jeongguk. They've been lying to me my whole life, and I never knew. I never questioned them. And I'm so ashamed that I believed them, because now I know better. Because you are nothing like the
monsters they make Wanderers out to be. In fact, the people who call you monsters are more like monsters than you. That's what scares me. Not you."
At this, Jeongguk's heart feels like it's beating again. He reaches for Haneul, and she doesn't back away, allows him to close his fingers around her hand and pull her so she stands between his legs again. Her chocolate caramel eyes willingly connect with his, the little strands of hair escaping her ponytail framing her freckles bare face perfectly. He envelops both her warm hands between his cold ones. The feeling of her is surreal. "You really aren't frightened of me?" He asks, just to make sure his tired brain isn't hallucinating.
"I could never be scared of you, Jeongguk." Haneul says softly, shifting her hands so their fingers are intertwined. The freckle beneath her lip looks so tempting. He's so, so close to leaning in and memorizing the creases of her plump lips and tasting her, committing everything about her to the deepest place in his memory. He wants to kiss her, wants to appreciate her, wants to communicate all the feelings he can't articulate into words into a kiss.
But he won't let himself. He remembers how he felt when Taehyung first Christened his skin that hadn't been kissed in almost a hundred years. How dirty he felt that the lips that met him weren't Jimin's. He's not ready to give his body to someone new yet, something so sacred to him, though he wants to. This debate, this conflict is a battle between his soul and his conscience. Jimin never had any wise words about that.
So, instead, he squeezes her hands, running his thumbs over the backs.
"I think it's time I tell you everything, darling."
omg this is so long 2668 words i popped offfffff
i hope you enjoyed this more than last chapter yIKES
love y'alllllll and thank you for 6k
edited 05/08/20