2009 ↠ Fourth Year

The feeling of insanity and happiness, especially when it concerned Taehyung, wasn't something that you'd ever wish upon anyone, it just kind of happened. One day, your heart was set on chicken kebabs with sweet chilli sauce and mayonnaise and then the next, it was Taehyung and his tesla and his coarse morning voice. It was weird.

Your heart craved his attention physically and mentally, and maybe had you bothered to reflect at the time, you would've noticed that Taehyung felt the same and was obvious about it too.

You fall back into your sheets, eyes closed and heart pounding out of your skin as he removes himself from you. The feeling makes you lonely and sticky, but you're way to spent to vocalise your affection whoring needs for his cuddles. You watch his languid body movements as he sits on his knees at the end of the bed. You watch his tense back muscles ripple as he takes the condom off, tying its end and tossing it in the small rubbish bin by your desk. You watch as he twists around in all of his naked glory -one eyed monster and sweat laid out just for you.

"Do you want my shirt?" he asks, as you lazily get out of bed and rush to the toilet in the nude. "You can wear it if you want."

"Just leave it on the floor, I'll put it on soon." It was all routine now; you big on not getting urinary tract infections and making him carry you to the toilet when you both were too exhausted to wear condoms but not enough to forego peeing after; him, willing to carry you or drag you because he didn't want to hear you complain about it all week again.

After all, it was his penis.

He watches you run to the toilet this time, light feet on cold carpet, as a small laugh turns into an ache in his throat. Naked and impervious to the tempestuous storm of emotion in the bedroom, you take your time in the bathroom -brushing your teeth, fixing your hair and doing your business- as Taehyung melts back into the sheets, feeling himself wanting to say three stupid words out loud and to you.

It was an itch, a nagging need to love you and openly.

Returning to the bedroom, you lean over the bed. Opening the window to fumigate the smell of sex and because you know Taehyung liked the sound of crickets at night. The moonlight streaks down your bed when you pick up his white shirt and tug it on before climbing beneath the sheets.

Taehyung turns over when you settle in the sheets, hovering over your face. "You okay?" he whispers, kissing your cheek. "I wasn't too much was I?"

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" you laugh softly, pressing your forehead against his as he presses a gentle kiss on your lips. "We took it really slow tonight, felt like we were making love."

"Weren't we?" he asks, nervously avoiding your gaze.

You giggle, kissing his nose and his cheeks and his forehead and his chin and his entire face because yes, yes you were and it felt good. "We were. We should do it like that again, I kind of like the way you hold me so tenderly when I'm riding you. I feel safe and secure in your arms. How do you feel?"

"I feel ...I feel good. Really good. I feel really good when I'm with you. I'm happy." He whispers, running his fingers down the skin of your arm until they meet your hands where he tentatively interlocks your fingers -something he'd never done before. His lips brush over yours as kisses you with more fervency than the kisses he gave during sex and the feeling is so weird. It's as though electricity is zipping through your veins; you just want to hold him and sink into his warmth but even that thought is weird.

Everything was just weird.

"Don't mind me," He pulls away, again to hover above you. You watch a small smile take over his face as he gazes down at your languid expression, "I just wanted to kiss you." he exhales.

"You can."

He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. "I like you alot, can you blame me?"

"Ew, are you getting romantic on me because if that's the case, I'm-"

He slams his lips against yours again, kissing the words right out of your mouth and thank God for that. You don't know what you would've said had he not.

You hold him close, enjoying the way he felt and the way he smelt. Gosh, he smells so good. Why do men smell so good? Pulling apart, he lays his head on the pillow beside you as you trace your fingers over his face.

"Y/N, I need to say three important words right now." His eyes are alert as they dart into yours. "I need to or I'll diagnose myself as clinically insane and I can't do that because the meat in my fridge will stink up my house if I get institutionalised without cleaning it out first."

"What?" You cup his cheek. "Is it 'I'll get Mcdonalds?'"

He shakes his head between your palms, a cheshire grin across his face. "No, It's just that I might actually feel-"

"You don't need to say it," you interrupt, dropping your hands from his face to lift the covers up to your shoulder. "Don't feel obligated to. We aren't like that."

You close your eyes. Hurt flashes across his face. He was going to confess about the bubbles and crackles that wrecked havoc on his functional ability to think about anything else but you, but Taehyung finds himself suddenly glad he hadn't. Taehyung internalises the rejection of his feelings akin to the surgical removal of his heart before taking a deep breath and pulling you back into his arms anyway.

He was bad with expressing his feelings.

And, you were bad at letting him.

When Taehyung falls asleep and his little snores fill the quiet of the room behind you, you open your eyes. You swear by it that it wasn't love between you.

It was platonic sex.

Who would be in love with you?

But, something bubbled, fizzled, blossomed in your heart and whatever it was, it was pretty darn close to love.

You hated it.

But you were so in love with the feeling, it hurt.

//

"Hey, want to do anything after class this afternoon?" he says, and your lip twitches at the thought. Slipping back into your underwear, he adds. "We can watch a couple of movies and eat a copious amount of caramel popcorn? I want to watch Happy Feet."

"No thank-you-" standing up, you quickly put your skirt on. "-I need to study for midterms."

"Caramel popcorn though?"

Buttoning up your white collar shit, throwing on your blue sweater over it and fixing up your hair, you grin back at the boy as he puts his sweatpants back on. "I'm fine Tae, I really need to do some study."

Taehyung watches you as he puts his beige sweater on. "We can study together?"

"Taehyung, you're so needy," you laugh softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "That's not a bad thing either. My apartment at 4pm. Don't come empty handed either."

"Kebabs?" he asks, tilting his head at you as he pulls your in between his legs. "Chicken Kebabs?"

"Dumplings and we have a deal homeboy."

"Sounds good babe," He pulls you back against his chest with a gaping smile on his face when you try to move and open the door. "I believe I still have a couple minutes with you until your class starts missy. You can't be running away just yet."

"Are you suggesting a quickie?"

He nods. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you play with the silky soft brown hair at the back of his head. "You shouldn't be proud of that Taehyung."

Tracing the pad of his thumb over your supple bottom lip, he sighs. "It's not about the sex with you, you know that right?"

"I do," you smile, swatting away his hand from your face. "Obviously it's my dashing looks and striking personality." You deadpan.

He rolls his eyes, letting you go. "Get lost, I'll see you tonight."

Walking to the door, you say. "Lol, catch you loser. I'll be in the library after class if you need to study."

"I'll text you." He says, melting back into the sheet.

Raising your eyebrows, you turn back to him. "Please, no pictures of your one eyed monster. Your phone is shit and I get excited every time I think you're sending me a picture of food. Do you know how disappointing it is when I put my glasses on and it's not a burrito but in fact your penis sword?"

"Jesus."

"So, don't disappoint me."

Taehyung later sends you a picture of a burrito and his penis side by side with an agreement that they do look kind of similar.

//

His chest heaved deeply, rasping crackly as he drew in the cacophony of loneliness in his hospital room. His family were on their way having just got on a plane. The nurses were on break.

As the medical student who had worked with him during all of his treatments, he admitted to being afraid of dying alone, so you stayed.

The nurses had taken away his blood transfusion. His haemoglobin was so low and he looked so unwell, he needed it but his body wasn't accepting it. His leg had swelled being in bed all day, prompting the immediate administration of a stat dose of an anti-coagulant. He probably had a pulmonary embolism but that was just another medical diagnosis on the already too long list.

In this case, his body had given up quicker than his mind.

But he was a fighter.

You sat in silence, holding his hand as he breathed, eyes closed, mind exploring what infinity would look like. He looked at peace, despite everything and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

"What are you thinking about?"

Silence.

"I'm thinking about eternity."

He breathes in.

"What does it look like?" you had asked, just trying to make conversation.

He breathes out.

Opening his tired blue eyes to stare at yours, he grins. "Comfortable my dear, it looks comfortable."

You nod.

He closes his eyes but you know he's just thinking. "It's true what they say about dying, your life flashes before your eyes."

You snort. "Yours must be a movie having lived so long."

He smiles at your joke. "You bet it kid."

Then you smile. Letting him talk, even if none of it made sense, you listened to everything he had to say, everything he wanted to recall.

It was at 2:30AM when he stopped talking about the time he served in the British Army and when he asked about you. He did it every now and then before today, curious about the profession and why you wanted to be in it when you could be anything else in this entire world. It was never about your personal life, he wasn't interested in it, until now.

"You got a love in your life?" rubbing his thumb across your knuckles, he smiles, "You're young, you must do."

Thinking of no one but Taehyung, you nod. "I do."

"Tell me, what's he like?"

Taking a deep breath, you smile at the man. "He's probably my favourite human in this world. He puts up with everything that I throw at him and he never fails to be there. He's like my home and although I'd never actually say this to him, I love him a lot, he makes my life brighter."

"Does he know that?" he asks.

You blush. "Admitting those feelings makes me feel uncomfortable, I'd rather just express it."

He cough-laughs, whatever came first. "Reminds me of my late wife. She didn't tell me she loved me for 10 years, but with that kind of stuff you don't need to anyway. You just feel it. From the way your face lit up when you thought of him, I'm sure he's aware you love him."

"You must've loved her a lot."

"I did, I do," Tears fall down his face as he sobs painfully. Something cracks in your heart as you comfort him, "I'm okay, I'm going to join her soon. That makes me happy. We can be happy together again."

Closing his eyes again, he nestles himself comfortably in the bed. You could feel the emotion trapped at the bottom of your oesophagus, tugging, piercing, wanting to tear it's way through your throat. You hope Taehyung's home because that is where you are going to after this.

Ignoring the burning need to cry, you watch his chest move asymmetrically. It was almost like his body had lost it's ability to breathe in rhythm and he was forcing his lungs to breathe on sheer will power. He only needed to wait until 7AM when his family arrived; it was currently 2:34AM.

He breathed in softly and let out hastily. According to his notes, he had been a chain smoker before the second world war and with an onset of chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder in his sixties, his quality of life seemed to deplete at an alarming rate.

The sound of his breathing makes you feel uncomfortable, cheyne stokes respiration, you'd read about it in textbooks but never actually seen it until now.

You hold his hand a little tighter for your own selfish need to fight the intense desire to wail for this man.

He was going to die.

It was complications post-operatively that got him. Infection after infection, sepsis with a hypoxic cardiac arrest in ICU. They said they had broken most of his ribs doing chest compressions on him when he coded. It was sickening, he was a frail 99 year old man and he was ready to go.

They prolonged a man's suffering against his will.

He had so many close calls that his family didn't bother flying back, thinking he'd bounce back this time like he did every other. A phone call at 2am prompted the immediate booking of a plane; they would never make it in time.

It was a pity.

But that was life.

You wonder if you'd have family like his when you're his age. Will you be alone?

Taehyung says things happen in our lives because they're destined to mould us into the people we are determined to be. You chose to be here though, you could've walked away. Does that still count?

You gaze at your warm hand resting upon what you'd imagine as his once strong hand -now a thin layer of cracking skin, held together by the last drops of medication coursing through his blood, helping him hold on.

You wonder if you'll have more of these experiences as a doctor.

Probably.

You watch the sunrise leak through the window from beside you. The hospital is quiet. The air is warming up. The first orange hues of the new day kiss his pale face. You hope it brings him warmth wherever he has gone to in his mind.

And you know when the sun climbs above the endless hills in the horizon that his family wont make it in time to say goodbye. That he would've taken his last breath and thought his last thought because no one can fight the sun when it's already been set.

His hand tightens in yours and you hold him as he passes away.

Nurses and your attending enter the room, prompted by the flatlining cardiac rhythm of his telemetry monitor from their office. Dropping his hand and putting it under the blanket, you pull off your stethoscope from around your neck.

They stand beside you as they watch you with teary eyes listen for a heartbeat and respiration through your stethoscope; as you hold the pupil torch to his eyes; as you look for withdrawal signs to noxious stimuli; as you nod to your superviser that he had gone.

He holds the mans wrist, feeling for a pulse, before whispering to you. "He's gone. Do you want to call it Y/N?"

Wrapping your stethoscope around your neck again. You ignore the need to cry out, choosing to be professional instead of processing this loss. It wasn't healthy but it wasn't the time either.

"Time of death-" you raise your wrist close to your face, reading your watch. The realisation of just how close he had gotten to his family dawns on you as you read out the numbers, "6:47AM."

You drop your hand and then you close your eyes and pray for his safe passage to his comfortable eternity. The nurses take you to the office to hug you and make you a hot chocolate, you drink it like it's wine before packing your bag and heading off.

They tell you that they've never seen a medical student do what you did.

They tell you that your heart is in the right place.

They tell you that you'll be an amazing doctor.

You leave the hospital that morning, and you pay it no mind when a family run past you at 7:06AM because if you do, you know you will cry. Biting your lip until you taste blood, you walk all the way to Taehyung's home. You don't want to cry, you can't be this weak and doctors aren't weak.

You stand out his apartment door until 7:30AM. You don't know why, it was just so quiet outside and the silence felt for the first time in your life, comforting.

The alarm clock from Taehyung's room blasts through the apartment and that's when you decide to knock on his door. Despite having a key of your own, you just, you have no idea anymore.

You hear him scuffle towards it.

A dishevelled looking shirtless Taehyung opens the door. "What can I help with..," his course morning voice chirps before his eyes land on you.

You don't want to say it.

You can't say it.

"Baby," Taehyung looks you over before opening his arms. "Come here, let's get you inside."

He knows.

And then you fall into his arms, letting yourself cry in the only place you feel safe enough to. Kicking the door closed, he puts his hand behind your knees, picking you up and carrying you through his home. Falling to the couch, he wraps a blanket around you both before texting his professor that he'll be missing a day of class to recover from norovirus. His phone pings with a response moments later with an attached pdf of topics covered.

Dropping his phone onto the coffee table, he tucks your head under his chin.

Holding you as humanly possible as he can, he tangles his fingers into your hair, comforting you through your grief. You don't say anything and Taehyung doesn't ask you anything.

He just knows.

You don't know at which point things had changed that year, he was there for everything and more, but it wasn't just sex anymore. He was the longest relationship you've ever had to date without actually being in a relationship with him. 4 years of Kim Taehyung and Y/N Y/L/N, it was bound to be love.

It was bound to be.

And looking back now, it definitely was.