The clatter of the wheelchair against the tile floors makes me feel like a train, screeching across the tracks. I feel the eyes of every passing person on me with looks of mild curiosity and sympathy. I shrink into myself to avoid their eyes and double-check my patient's gown to make sure it covers everything. Its thin white fabric makes me self-conscious and I wish I could change into my normal clothes.

Unfortunately, my normal clothes are covered with blood.

Even if I did have a change of clothes, I worry it may hurt too much to put on.

I wish I didn't have to use the wheelchair, but on account of my bruised rib, they decided to be safe rather than sorry. Not only that, my constant state of dizziness would make it difficult for me to walk anyway.

We come to the end of the hallway and wait for the elevator to arrive. I flip my phone over in my hand as I wait, already bored. I don't check for any notifications, worrying that the screen may worsen my headache. I have the phone set to full volume to avoid checking it over and over again out of nervous habit.

"So..." Namjoon begins, still holding onto the wheelchair handles, "you mentioned you are a college student. What's your major?"

The elevator finally arrives and he pushes me inside. "I'm a business major now," I answer with a note of pride. "I was undecided for a while but I kind of like business so I'm trying it out."

"That's cool, are you thinking about starting your own business or...?"

"I'm not sure yet," I admit. "I'm still working out the details."

"College is the best time to figure things out," Namjoon adds, reaching over to press the button. He stands beside the wheelchair and offers me a small smile. "I went to nursing school, and when I graduated I decided to adopt a hybrid."

I blink in surprise. "You adopted a hybrid?"

He nods though his expression is tense, a bit anxious. "Yeah. He's wonderful. His name is Seokjin, he's a sheep hybrid. Sometimes I bring him to the hospital to meet with the elderly patients during Free Time. He's a bit wild but he has a huge heart for helping people."

It takes a moment for me to realize he's being defensive because of the discrimination against hybrids. I see anti-hybrid protests on the news at all hours of the day. They claim hybrids are abominations. A symbol of scientists trying to play God and ruin human biology for their selfish and sexual desires.

It's sickening to watch them jeer and attack hybrids and their caregivers. Sometimes I wonder if the creation of hybrids was worth it in the end. For all of this political unrest and violence, was it worth revealing hybrids to the public?

Regardless of that, hybrids should be treated with utmost respect and love because they are breathing. It doesn't matter what the public thinks they are. They are alive and living on this earth with everybody else; they are not different from us aside from a pair of ears and a tail.

"He sounds lovely," I answer warmly. "How old is he?"

"Oh..." Namjoon's gaze softens, noting my encouragement, and he smiles awkwardly. "He's older than me, actually. But he certainly doesn't act like it. He's a ball of energy."

"That's so sweet."

"If you're here for a couple of days, I could bring him in and you could meet him," he suggests happily.

"That would be great!"

The elevator doors reopen and I am temporarily blinded by the sunlight shining through the large glass windows in the lobby. I drop my head in pain and shield my eyes against the head-splitting light. Namjoon pushes me out of the elevator and towards the cafeteria doors on the other side of the room.

He opens the door with the swipe of his keycard and moves me into the large cafeteria. It is nicer than expected. High ceilings allow the natural light to illuminate the room at its fullest. Plastic-topped tables fill the room with patients and nurses alike sitting down at them. There are more paintings of nature scenes on the walls along with informational posters about health and advertisements for the hospital.

A large buffet table is laid out against an entire wall with various silver egg-shaped containers for food and glass display cases for giant muffins. The smell of fresh breakfast wafts through the air and my stomach aches with hunger. My eyes land on a cast-iron waffle maker in the corner and immediately crave the sweet taste of waffles and maple syrup.

In the far corner of the room, two nurses stand beside somebody sitting in a wheelchair. The boy is scowling at his food with his arms crossed over his chest. He speaks in a low tone but I overhear the bitterness in his familiar voice.

My heart skips a small beat.

It's him.

In the heat of the moment, I didn't realize he was a hybrid. Now in broad daylight, I realize he truly is a hybrid, or makes for a good imitation of one.

He was once human, after all.

A pair of soft cat ears press against his thick blond hair, signifying frustration. His sleek calico-colored tail hangs out and angrily curls and flicks against his leg. He has a lean body but he appears too skinny to be healthy. There is a hollowness in his cheeks and dark circles underneath his eyes.

Namjoon continues wheeling me towards the buffet table, taking no notice of my blatant staring. Internally, I am asking him to turn around so I can speak with that boy. I want to talk to him, despite knowing he may be upset by my presence.

I want to thank him for saving my life, I owe him that at least. He was shot in his attempt to escape and to save me. He stayed by my side to make sure I was alright, despite bleeding out himself. I can't ignore that, and if I don't thank him it will bother me for the rest of my life.

I have to pay him back for it.

Namjoon places me in front of the table and grabs a plate from the stack. He turns to me, "What would you like?"

I pointed to the waffle machine without hesitation. "Could I have some waffles, please?"

Namjoon nods and leaves my side to make my waffle.

I sneak a look over my shoulder to watch the boy continue arguing with his nurses. He snatches an apple off his plate and grips it tightly in his hand as if he wanted to crush it, or throw it at the nurses.

An apple a day will keep the doctor away... but will it keep nurses away? I roll my eyes at my own dumb joke yet I find myself smirking anyway.

However, instead of throwing it, he bites angrily into it and tosses it back onto his plate.

I lean back in my wheelchair with my focus divided between the hybrid and Namjoon. I distractedly ask Namjoon for a chocolate muffin as I stare in the hybrid's general direction.

He lifts his head with his lips still drawn into a pout and makes eye contact with me.

My breath is caught in my lungs at the sight of his face. He is more handsome than I previously imagined. I know hybrids tend to be very attractive but he is on another level.

He has soft, rounded features with a prominent yet slim jawline. His nose is small and almost flat with a wide base. His full lips are beautiful despite the angrily scowl they are making. His dark amber-like eyes are blazing with frustration with a likeness to the embers of fire. He is wearing clean white pajamas with soft gray slippers; I wonder if I should ask for pajamas later on.

His body is poised to attack, practically shaking with stress and anger. His gaze locks on mine and I watch in mild fear, worried I might trigger something like the nurses said. Yet the darkness in his eyes flickers out like a candle light and is replaced with shock. He stares back at me and his mouth falls open revealing the tip of one crooked tooth.

He could attack. He could start crying. He could try running away. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Before I could come up with a plan of action, he shoves himself away from the table and wheels himself away from the nurses before they could react. It scares the life out of them and they side-step out of the way to avoid getting their feet crushed. He swerves around the table and starts wheeling straight for me!

It would have been comical if I hadn't felt so panicked.

I attempt to wheel myself backwards but the movement sends pain through my ribs. I wince sharply and feel my body freeze to ease the pain but I am left in the boy's path. Namjoon notices my movement and is still trying to move the waffle onto a plate. He jumps in surprise when he sees the hybrid barreling towards us at full speed.

The two nurses in charge of watching him, chase after him and shout for him to stop. Every head in the room turns towards the commotion.

One second he was five feet away from me, the next he was crashing into my wheelchair.

I cry out in pain as he slams into me and my head is knocked backwards. I throw my hands up in an attempt to block him from hurting me but he is grabbing onto my wrists. He is talking to me in rushed sentences and it takes a moment for me to register what he is saying. Then I realize he's crying.

The other nurses finally catch up and attempt to pull the wheelchairs backward. The boy, tears streaming down his face, and shouts angrily at the nurses and pleads with them to leave us alone.

My head explodes in pain from the chaos.

I pull away from him, yanking my wrists from his hands, and cradle my aching head in my hands. I try to shut out the pain but nothing is working. "Stop," I plead, heart racing with fear, "stop moving!" Memories of last night flash through my head and suddenly, I feel my chest constrict with rising panic.

Stop, calm down! It's okay, it's okay. Don't panic, this isn't like that. He won't hurt you, he won't hurt you.

The nurses try to pull us apart but the footrests of the wheelchairs are tangled together. The hybrid shouts at them to stop, begging them to stop hurting me. His ears are flattened against his head and his dark eyes are wide with terror. He tries to shield me with his hands and I realize he's trying to protect me.

Namjoon joins the chaos and tries to pull my wheelchair back but is struggling.

I force myself to take deep breaths, keeping myself from having a panic attack, "Stop, you need to stop." I tell the boy urgently. "Stop shouting, please."

One of his nurses tries to grab his shoulders to pin him against the back of the wheelchair. "Jimin, stop! You're hurting her!"

Jimin. So that's his name.

With the last of my energy, I reach for Jimin and wrap my hand around the back of his neck. I pull him forward and force him to focus entirely on me despite the pain it causes in my ribs. "Jimin, stop!" I say sternly, fighting back tears of pain, "You're hurting me!"

As if I had casted a spell, Jimin's body slackens and the desperation in his eyes vanishes.

With a bated breath, I watch as his expression clears and he is left with a moment of clarity. He stares at me with an open mouth, mortified. It's as if he realized what he was doing, and has stopped acting out of impulse.

I know how that feels. Not so long ago, I was acting like this because I was worried about him. In the ambulance, I was acting crazy and all I cared about was finding Jimin and making sure he was safe from those men. We are complete strangers, yet here we find ourselves trying to save each other from everybody else.

"It's okay," I add in a whisper. I gaze deep into his eyes to offer comfort through my expression. "It's going to be okay, I'm okay now."

Jimin's bottom lip quivers, either on the verge of speaking or crying. Then he hangs his head in shame and he pulls his trembling hands away from me. "I'm so sorry... I don't know what came over me."

I quietly sigh in relief. "It's okay," I reassure. I looked up at the nurses, "He just needed a moment, it's okay now."

Namjoon appears relieved but the other two nurses are sharing doubtful looks. "That could have gone better," one appears to think while the other is probably thinking, "These people are out of their minds."

Even so, they start to untangle the wheelchairs and this time, Jimin allows it. Once we are apart, they pull our wheelchairs apart to give us room.

I place my hand on my racing heart and give Jimin a weak smile. "You scared me, I didn't think you'd want to run me over."

Jimin's slender-shaped eyes widened with regret. His expression falls and he replies hesitantly, "I didn't mean to run into you... I didn't think I was going so fast."

"You could have won the Olympics with that speed," I joke, attempting to lighten the mood. My side is throbbing with pain but I do my best to pretend it isn't. I gestured weakly to the nearby waffle machine, "Were you excited to see me or did you want waffles that badly?"

Jimin swallows hard and looks to the side of me. He folds his hands over his lap and fights to keep them still. "I... I don't know what came over me."

"It's alright," I reassure him, already regretting my jokes. I don't think I'm helping. "Um, do you want to sit down?"

For a moment, Jimin's eyes glitter with amusement. "We're already sitting."

I smirk. "True. But we're holding up the line over here."

Jimin nods slowly. "Okay..."

I glance up at Namjoon and gesture to a nearby table. "Can we sit over there?"

I half-expected them to separate us and lock us in our rooms until we left the hospital. But they move us to the table and face us towards each other. The two nurses linger by the table while Namjoon returns to the buffet table to finish grabbing my breakfast.

Of all the ways I expected to meet Jimin, this was not one of them. I guess our relationship is full of strange meetings and introductions. And I still don't understand why I feel so at ease with him. I've heard of people bonding over trauma but I always thought it was exaggerated.

Yet here I am, stuck with a mess of feelings I have no way of dealing with.

I shake off those thoughts and decide to focus on the moment instead of dwelling on it. I finally have the chance to thank him for saving my life. It's the least I can do, and maybe I can find some way to repay my debt to him.

A/N: Head trauma or regular trauma, that is the question? I studied many articles on the idea of shared trauma and am trying to incorporate parts of that into this story. Hence, their sudden connection and desperation to care about the other. It's the fact they lived through trauma and feel like they owe each other something that brought them together. This isn't love, it's "you understand what I feel, let's stick together". But maybe in the future, love shall come~