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Realistic or Modern | forgotten |
- Thread starter Waraeru
- Start date
Waraeru
lee taemin stan
♠ — J I A N G x S H E N ！ xxxxxxx
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// ''location downtown portland, maine medical center ''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indentPerhaps what was commonplace for October in the Northern Hemisphere, a heavy plumage of clouds obscured the usually steel blue skies of Portland, Maine. In fact, the thick sheet of cloud was able to almost completely veil the rays of the sun. Quite honestly the fact that it wasn't raining was basically a miracle in itself. Unfortunately, the scenery was mirrored by the temperature, displayed as 43 degrees Fahrenheit on Jiang Shen's phone. However, despite living in America for the majority of his life, he was never able to remember what temperatures in Fahrenheit translated to in Celsius, as that's what his parents had taught him to measure temperature in. Hastily, Shen shoved the device back into the pocket of his jeans and rubbed his hands together as, in the short period of time they had been holding the phone, they had already become numbingly cold.
Regardless of being dressed in three layers: a t-shirt, an oversized sweater, and a bulky coat, the cold was still able to permeate his body and chill him to his very core. He lamented today's hat choice; a baseball hat was not particularly efficient in keeping his ears warm. Needless to say, Shen didn't consider himself to be a "cold-weather" type of person. Truthfully, he despised the cold, despite the location of where he lived. The only reason that was keeping him tethered to this city was Lloyd. That wasn't to say he disliked Portland. In all honesty, he found it to be almost mesmerizing in how beautiful it was. Yet, with that being said, he had always wanted to live in, or at the very least visit, his birthplace in China.
Once some of the colour had returned in his hands after vigourously rubbing them together, he buried them in the deep pockets of his thick coat, almost shuddering when the relief of them warming up rushed over him. He had his guitar slung over his right shoulder. Ever since Lloyd had landed in the hospital, Shen had been unable to even look at it, let alone pick it up and play. Eventually, its presence became too much and he had decided to take it to the hospital ward. As a gift. A large gift, perhaps, but as a gift nonetheless.
Initially, Shen was unwilling to drag out his excursion for longer than necessary but after narrowly avoiding falling asleep as he walked down the street, he deemed coffee as a necessity to wake him up a little. He entered the first coffee shop he saw, relishing in the warmth that the interior of the building held. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair - a futile attempt at trying to fix the dreaded hat-hair. He was able to quickly place his order but was caught off-guard when around a minute later it was ready.
"I like your guitar." The barista said with a warm smile, nodding to the instrument strapped to Shen's back. "D'you play?"
It was a rare occurrence for him, but Shen's words seemed to get caught in his throat. It was a few moments before he was able to clear his throat and speak clearly.
"I used to. This- This is a friend's." He managed to force out, with a sad smile creeping onto his face. "Uh- Thanks for the coffee!"
Increasing his pace a little, he paid and took the drink off the counter, inclining a thankful nod towards the barista and turning to walk out. Inexplicably flustered, Shen placed his hat back on his head and rushed out of the coffee shop, trying to shrink into his coat in an attempt to conceal the heat in his cheeks.
The bite of the cold on Shen's hands was less harsh now he was holding a hot to-go coffee cup. It took a second for him to reorientate himself in the direction of the hospital, before setting off again. He took a sip of coffee, flinching and cursing softly when he burnt his tongue on the steaming, deep brown liquid. Maybe it would have been in his best interest to wait a little while for him to drink it.
Within ten minutes, he had reached the Maine Medical Center. He stood at the entrance, looking up at the imposing building that stood towering over him. Even with the sheer amount of times he had come here, Shen was never able to shake the looming emotions of nervousness and panic.
Shen physically jolted when his thoughts were interrupted by a plane taking off overhead from the nearby airport. Whose idea was it to build an airport terminal and a hospital right next to each other, anyway? He shook his head and entered the hospital. He didn't need directions to where he was going, he might as well have had the journey mapped out in detail on his hand. Finding his way to Lloyd's ward had perhaps almost become a second nature to him. A maze of corridors and four flights of stairs later, Shen found himself stood outside the door of the room he was looking for. He raised his hand to knock on the door - Why did he even feel the need to knock? It's not like someone who was comatose could get up and open it for him - and knocked anyway. It felt right. He even waited for a beat, before taking a sharp intake of breath and opening the door.
/ / word count - 907
/ / notes - the quantity's here but is the quality? i'm not sure-
──────────────── ──────────── ─────── ────
// ''location downtown portland, maine medical center ''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indentPerhaps what was commonplace for October in the Northern Hemisphere, a heavy plumage of clouds obscured the usually steel blue skies of Portland, Maine. In fact, the thick sheet of cloud was able to almost completely veil the rays of the sun. Quite honestly the fact that it wasn't raining was basically a miracle in itself. Unfortunately, the scenery was mirrored by the temperature, displayed as 43 degrees Fahrenheit on Jiang Shen's phone. However, despite living in America for the majority of his life, he was never able to remember what temperatures in Fahrenheit translated to in Celsius, as that's what his parents had taught him to measure temperature in. Hastily, Shen shoved the device back into the pocket of his jeans and rubbed his hands together as, in the short period of time they had been holding the phone, they had already become numbingly cold.
Regardless of being dressed in three layers: a t-shirt, an oversized sweater, and a bulky coat, the cold was still able to permeate his body and chill him to his very core. He lamented today's hat choice; a baseball hat was not particularly efficient in keeping his ears warm. Needless to say, Shen didn't consider himself to be a "cold-weather" type of person. Truthfully, he despised the cold, despite the location of where he lived. The only reason that was keeping him tethered to this city was Lloyd. That wasn't to say he disliked Portland. In all honesty, he found it to be almost mesmerizing in how beautiful it was. Yet, with that being said, he had always wanted to live in, or at the very least visit, his birthplace in China.
Once some of the colour had returned in his hands after vigourously rubbing them together, he buried them in the deep pockets of his thick coat, almost shuddering when the relief of them warming up rushed over him. He had his guitar slung over his right shoulder. Ever since Lloyd had landed in the hospital, Shen had been unable to even look at it, let alone pick it up and play. Eventually, its presence became too much and he had decided to take it to the hospital ward. As a gift. A large gift, perhaps, but as a gift nonetheless.
Initially, Shen was unwilling to drag out his excursion for longer than necessary but after narrowly avoiding falling asleep as he walked down the street, he deemed coffee as a necessity to wake him up a little. He entered the first coffee shop he saw, relishing in the warmth that the interior of the building held. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair - a futile attempt at trying to fix the dreaded hat-hair. He was able to quickly place his order but was caught off-guard when around a minute later it was ready.
"I like your guitar." The barista said with a warm smile, nodding to the instrument strapped to Shen's back. "D'you play?"
It was a rare occurrence for him, but Shen's words seemed to get caught in his throat. It was a few moments before he was able to clear his throat and speak clearly.
"I used to. This- This is a friend's." He managed to force out, with a sad smile creeping onto his face. "Uh- Thanks for the coffee!"
Increasing his pace a little, he paid and took the drink off the counter, inclining a thankful nod towards the barista and turning to walk out. Inexplicably flustered, Shen placed his hat back on his head and rushed out of the coffee shop, trying to shrink into his coat in an attempt to conceal the heat in his cheeks.
The bite of the cold on Shen's hands was less harsh now he was holding a hot to-go coffee cup. It took a second for him to reorientate himself in the direction of the hospital, before setting off again. He took a sip of coffee, flinching and cursing softly when he burnt his tongue on the steaming, deep brown liquid. Maybe it would have been in his best interest to wait a little while for him to drink it.
Within ten minutes, he had reached the Maine Medical Center. He stood at the entrance, looking up at the imposing building that stood towering over him. Even with the sheer amount of times he had come here, Shen was never able to shake the looming emotions of nervousness and panic.
Shen physically jolted when his thoughts were interrupted by a plane taking off overhead from the nearby airport. Whose idea was it to build an airport terminal and a hospital right next to each other, anyway? He shook his head and entered the hospital. He didn't need directions to where he was going, he might as well have had the journey mapped out in detail on his hand. Finding his way to Lloyd's ward had perhaps almost become a second nature to him. A maze of corridors and four flights of stairs later, Shen found himself stood outside the door of the room he was looking for. He raised his hand to knock on the door - Why did he even feel the need to knock? It's not like someone who was comatose could get up and open it for him - and knocked anyway. It felt right. He even waited for a beat, before taking a sharp intake of breath and opening the door.
/ / word count - 907
/ / notes - the quantity's here but is the quality? i'm not sure-
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pasta
gogo dancer
Llyod Ahn
Earlier that day
A steady beeping filled his empty eardrums, and a bright light pierced through his thin eyelids as if he was waking up from a deep slumber. It started with the twitch of his slender fingers and eventually, his eyes peeled open, revealing his dark orbs. He didn’t recognize the white ceiling tiles or the sickening mint walls. There were no memories in his brain as if they had slipped through his fingers like sand. Nothing. Just confusion. He knew nothing about himself; only his name lay present in his memory and for some odd reason, another name.
Disgruntled and dazed, he frowned as he raised his heavy arms to wipe the Sandman's sand from his eyes. Finally, he allowed his gaze to roam about the room, taking in his surroundings. He came to the conclusion he was in a hospital by the various machines and the IV bag. But why? That question would lay in his mind for hours until a nurse came in to check on him.
The reason shocked him. He laid quiet for a moment, his mouth parting and closing like a fish without water. “... Suicide?” He shifted uncomfortably against the bed. “Do you know why?” He asked quietly, feeling quite ashamed of himself. But, she had no answer and he only frowned. Maybe it was better that way.
A woman claiming to be his aunt came in an hour or so later. At first, she cried tears of joy. Unfortunately, those salty water droplets turned into pings of sadness when he asked who she was. The doctor told her he was suffering from amnesia, did she expect him to remember her? He felt so damn guilty for not knowing.
Current time
The pained woman eventually left after showing him tons of pictures in an attempt to make him remember. But, it was to no avail, and she left disappointed. "Oh, honey, I'll just come back tomorrow. We can try again then, okay?" Her unsteady voice whispered. He nodded, trying his best to smile as if it was a spell that would lift her grief. It was like her nephew did die, and he was replaced with a complete stranger.
He was left to rest in his own thoughts once again. He ached his brain as he tried to remember something about the other name. He only drew blank.
God -- He hated being alone especially in a place like this. His nostrils filled with the smell he associated with his hatred for hospitals, latex gloves. The place only reminded him of death and disease. It was too negative for him to handle. It was like the negativity was some dark force that was laughing at him. Llyod was looking forward to leaving this unsettling building -- if that ever happened. He wanted to go home, but what was his home? Who was he? What triggered his suicidal tendencies? Questions that no one could answer for him.
He shut his eyes as he created artificial memories for himself. Sentences he could tell people he just met, something to shape himself. A knock at the door broke him from his trance and he opened his eyes. He didn’t know who that could be, but why would he? He cleared his dry throat before forcing out a husky, “Come in.” But, he doubted his voice was loud enough to be heard. Regardless, the door opened. Of course, he had no clue who he was, so he just stared for a few moments. How could he ask who he was, politely?
"I-I... Who are you?" He asked before quickly frowning. "Sorry-- I just don't know." Guilty. Again, he felt that sickening feeling like he felt with the previous woman. It ate him for a moment, but he had to remind himself that he couldn't sit there and pretend he knew this guy.
Waraeru
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Waraeru
lee taemin stan
♠ — J I A N G x S H E N ！ xxxxxxx
──────────────── ──────────── ─────── ────
// ''location maine medical center ''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indentShen stood frozen by the doorframe with his mouth agape, utterly unsure of what to do with himself at the sight of seeing Lloyd sat upright. He had almost dropped his coffee cup upon entering the room. It was even worse when he was spoken to. The words weren't able to even fully register in his brain. All his limbs felt heavy, as if all the blood had been pumped from his body and replaced by lead. He felt like he was a character on a television show and someone had pressed pause on him. The only thing he was able to cope with as he tried to comprehend what was happening was to stare. And then, the tears began to flow. He managed to clasp his hand to his mouth in order to stifle a sob, leaning against the frame of the door to stabilize himself.
Shen didn't consider himself a crier. He was incredibly sensitive, perhaps, but crying never came easily to him. However, every individual emotion and memory he had of Lloyd, both negative and positive, resurfaced and bloomed within Shen's mind, completely overwhelming and crippling him. And then, there was what was before his very eyes. Lloyd was awake. He looked healthy, or at least as healthy you could look after resurfacing from a coma you had been trapped in for months on end.
After a few moments, Shen was able to compose himself, though his breathing remained heavy and irregular, with his eyes now red and puffy.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry." He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. He felt embarrassed at his outburst, trying to rectify it. "It's just- You're-"
Shen fell silent for a few moments, attempting to recall and process what Lloyd had said to him before he had burst into tears. His heart sank as reality came crashing down on him. Was it true? Could the person he loved the most in the world really not remember anything about him? Shen had to force himself to hold back tears - he wasn't going to make a spectacle of himself for the second time. But even as he told himself that, he felt an unbearable feeling of emptiness inside himself.
Tentatively, Shen took a few steps away from the door, letting it shut softly behind him. He had to clear his throat before attempting to speak, and even then he lamented his voice for being so shakey when his words came out.
"You- You really don't remember me?"" He asked, unable to hide the sadness in his face. However, he was quick to internally scold himself.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't say it like that. It almost sounds like I'm accusing you, when it really isn't your fault. Honestly, I'm not surprised you can't remember-"
His voice trailed off as he spoke, to the point he was whispering the last few words. He dwelled on his thoughts for several seconds, before letting his tongue slip.
"My name is Jiang Shen. I- I'm your boyfriend."
Even as he spoke the words, they didn't feel like they fit right in his mouth. He wanted to spit them out and wash his mouth afterward. His lip even quivered as he said it and he prayed that it might just look like it was happening out of shock. He didn't intend to say he was Lloyd's boyfriend, it just slipped out. But, if it was true and he really couldn't remember anything, Shen decided that Lloyd would need something concrete to hold onto, even if it was completely fabricated. Even as he tried to convince himself what he did was right, and he was perhaps dishing out a sliver of hope to his best friend, he despised what he had just done. Even so, he pushed that thought aside for now. Being here for him now was the most important thing Shen could do.
Cautiously, he took another few steps forward, now at the bedside. He kneeled down, struggling to keep tears welling up in his eyes again. Originally, Shen made a move to reach out and hold Lloyd's hand, but following his better judgment, decided against it.
"I'm s- so sorry that I couldn't be there for you." He said and despite attempting to clear his throat before he spoke, his voice came out hoarse and cracked. "It's all my fault."
/ / word count - 730
/ / notes - i'm actually quite happy with how this turned out
──────────────── ──────────── ─────── ────
// ''location maine medical center ''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indentShen stood frozen by the doorframe with his mouth agape, utterly unsure of what to do with himself at the sight of seeing Lloyd sat upright. He had almost dropped his coffee cup upon entering the room. It was even worse when he was spoken to. The words weren't able to even fully register in his brain. All his limbs felt heavy, as if all the blood had been pumped from his body and replaced by lead. He felt like he was a character on a television show and someone had pressed pause on him. The only thing he was able to cope with as he tried to comprehend what was happening was to stare. And then, the tears began to flow. He managed to clasp his hand to his mouth in order to stifle a sob, leaning against the frame of the door to stabilize himself.
Shen didn't consider himself a crier. He was incredibly sensitive, perhaps, but crying never came easily to him. However, every individual emotion and memory he had of Lloyd, both negative and positive, resurfaced and bloomed within Shen's mind, completely overwhelming and crippling him. And then, there was what was before his very eyes. Lloyd was awake. He looked healthy, or at least as healthy you could look after resurfacing from a coma you had been trapped in for months on end.
After a few moments, Shen was able to compose himself, though his breathing remained heavy and irregular, with his eyes now red and puffy.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry." He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. He felt embarrassed at his outburst, trying to rectify it. "It's just- You're-"
Shen fell silent for a few moments, attempting to recall and process what Lloyd had said to him before he had burst into tears. His heart sank as reality came crashing down on him. Was it true? Could the person he loved the most in the world really not remember anything about him? Shen had to force himself to hold back tears - he wasn't going to make a spectacle of himself for the second time. But even as he told himself that, he felt an unbearable feeling of emptiness inside himself.
Tentatively, Shen took a few steps away from the door, letting it shut softly behind him. He had to clear his throat before attempting to speak, and even then he lamented his voice for being so shakey when his words came out.
"You- You really don't remember me?"" He asked, unable to hide the sadness in his face. However, he was quick to internally scold himself.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't say it like that. It almost sounds like I'm accusing you, when it really isn't your fault. Honestly, I'm not surprised you can't remember-"
His voice trailed off as he spoke, to the point he was whispering the last few words. He dwelled on his thoughts for several seconds, before letting his tongue slip.
"My name is Jiang Shen. I- I'm your boyfriend."
Even as he spoke the words, they didn't feel like they fit right in his mouth. He wanted to spit them out and wash his mouth afterward. His lip even quivered as he said it and he prayed that it might just look like it was happening out of shock. He didn't intend to say he was Lloyd's boyfriend, it just slipped out. But, if it was true and he really couldn't remember anything, Shen decided that Lloyd would need something concrete to hold onto, even if it was completely fabricated. Even as he tried to convince himself what he did was right, and he was perhaps dishing out a sliver of hope to his best friend, he despised what he had just done. Even so, he pushed that thought aside for now. Being here for him now was the most important thing Shen could do.
Cautiously, he took another few steps forward, now at the bedside. He kneeled down, struggling to keep tears welling up in his eyes again. Originally, Shen made a move to reach out and hold Lloyd's hand, but following his better judgment, decided against it.
"I'm s- so sorry that I couldn't be there for you." He said and despite attempting to clear his throat before he spoke, his voice came out hoarse and cracked. "It's all my fault."
/ / word count - 730
/ / notes - i'm actually quite happy with how this turned out
pasta
gogo dancer
face claim: yoon jung jae
location: hospital room
mood:emo pitiful
role: muse b
Waraeru
location: hospital room
mood:
role: muse b
Waraeru
Llyod Ahn
Inside the mint room, Llyod felt he was dealing sadness out to anyone who walked in. Like a drug dealer, dealing narcotics to people who are unwilling to purchase them. A frowned graced his pale features as he watched the male before him, come to realize what he said. It was painful, watching the male restrain himself from sobbing. And, any idea of what to say got stuck in his throat, and he only waited for the male’s association with him to be revealed.
Jiang Shen. The name was familiar and for a second it made Llyod happy. There was something of someone he remembered. Although it was a small piece of someone, at least he knew him. Soon the dark, thundering cloud reappeared over his head, drenching him in cold rain. Finding out who he was, made him feel even worse. They had an emotional connection and according to Jiang’s reaction, they were quite close. And, all he remembered was the guy’s name, while he had, probably, millions of memories of him.
Would it be like this forever? People come up to him and doesn't remember them at all. Would he also feel a deep feeling of pity overcome him as he explains why he can't remember them? Will he always have to see their disappointed and shocked gaze?
“Oh,” He said quietly with a slight frowned as he lowered his eyes. So, he had a boyfriend now? How was he supposed to act like a boyfriend with someone he barely knew? It wouldn’t be natural, but he didn’t want to ruin Jiang’s memory of him. He would try to be the same Llyod that his boyfriend remembered.
He watched as the male came closer to the depressing hospital bed and kneeled down. The words that flowed from his mouth hurt him. No, it wasn’t his fault, at least he didn’t think it was. He was the one who did it, right? He was the one who pulled the trigger. He couldn’t blame someone. Cautiously he reached out with his thin fingers to gently pat the male’s hair. Would this comfort him? He didn’t know, but he also didn’t know what to say and sometimes actions were stronger than words.
He so badly wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why he did it. But, no one knew, or at least, didn’t have to the heart to tell him the grisly details. His aunt seemed to reluctant to even admit he attempted suicide. She just sobbed harder when he asked. But, his lover would tell him. He had to, he couldn’t stash it away and keep it from him forever.
“Please, Shen,” He began, keeping his voice quiet. “Don’t blame yourself.” He paused for a few moments, while he thought of a gentle way to ask. “You don’t have to answer, but can you tell me what happened?” He instantly regretted asking, but he didn’t want to take it back; a part of him still craved to know. "I'm sorry, but no one has told me. They gloss over it. I want to know why." He trailed over towards the end before letting out a soft sign.
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Waraeru
lee taemin stan
♠ — J I A N G x S H E N ！ xxxxxxx
──────────────── ──────────── ─────── ────
// ''location maine medical centre''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indent Shen couldn't prevent himself from flinching at Llyod's touch. The contact almost chilled his blood. It felt so foreign now. Unnatural, perhaps even extraterrestrial. Llyod couldn't even remember who Shen was, so he knew the gesture wasn't out of love or fondness. It must have been awkward for Llyod to even speak to him, let alone touch him, considering Shen in Llyod's mind had withered into nothing more but a stranger. He knew Llyod reaching out to him was an attempt to comfort him, yet was unable to take any consolation from it. He didn't like feeling as if he was pitied. Llyod was laid there in a hospital bed, for Christ's sake, why were his feelings remotely important right now?
"Please, you don't have to pretend like you remember who I am." He spoke softly, with a sad smile creeping its way onto his lips. "I think it will only make things harder from the both of us."
The fact of the matter was that regardless of the way you spun it, it was hard. Shen was hanging on by a thread, yet could only begin to imagine what Llyod was going through. The one person that Shen held dearest in the world had forgotten him. Though it was through no fault of Llyod's own, Shen couldn't help but feel comparable to a computer file that had simply been erased.
What made Shen feel worse was the hospital ward itself. The sickly mint green walls felt suffocating, closing in around him. It was like he was experiencing this current moment outside of his own body, as if he were watching a television show. He simultaneously felt disconnected from his own body, yet had never felt more trapped. He was hopeless, unable to escape the torrent of words telling him that the whole incident wasn't his fault, when he knew it was; he should have been there. He hadn't been good enough to save Lloyd, and everything that had happened had happened because of his failure. Shen wasn't good enough for Llyod and that statement had never felt more true, after the stunt he had just pulled. Lying his friend, of whom had been comatose, saying that he was his boyfriend? Even now, he couldn't bring himself to take it back, feeling sick to the stomach.
Shen's eyes swam, trying to focus back on Llyod's own eyes and he exhaled deeply, desperately trying to ground himself. He needed to maintain his composure, especially after the outburst he'd already put on display moments before.
"I'm sorry, but no one has told me. They gloss over it. I want to know why."
Every ounce - every iota - of self-pity and sadness immediately dissipated, replaced by a flood of rage. Shen could feel the emotion in his face, his ears and cheeks flushing with heat.
"N- Nobody told you?" He asked, struggling immensely to keep his voice steady. Shen almost choked on his anger, his voice wavering and cracking as he spoke. His jaw was taut, with his lips tightly drawn shut and he couldn't help but dig his fingernails into the linen sheets of the hospital bed.
"You've been through all of this, and now that you can't remember, no one had the decency to give you an explanation? I'm so sorry-" His voice started off laced with outrage, but petered out into a soft whisper, shaking now from being on the verge of tears. His grip on the mattress weakened, as his hands began to violently shake. Shen's mouth felt dry as he spoke, and he was forced to clear his throat several times before he managed to produce a sentence, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed, attempting to bring more moisture into his mouth.
"I'm sorry I got like that. Of course, I'll tell you, I'd do anything for you. But I beg you to at least consider what you're asking for before I speak. You deserve the truth, wholeheartedly, but that, in turn, means I will not sugarcoat anything for you."
Shen's breath was shaky, but he was determined to do this. For Llyod.
"We were close as kids. Practically inseparable, really. But then - uh - something bad happened. The reason only your aunt has come to visit you is because- Well... Your mother died when you were sixteen, from an unexpected illness. None of us saw it coming." He paused for a moment, looking down, with a single tear rolling down his cheek.
"I- I'm sorry she's gone. I loved her too, she was like my second mother, almost. But, after her death, your Dad wasn't coping well. He-" Shen was stopped in his tracks again. It felt wrong to say this aloud, it felt like it was forbidden. It felt taboo to speak of, especially to Llyod, who it had impacted so significantly. Reluctantly, Shen gulped and was able to press onwards.
"Your Father tried to kill himself. And- And you saw it. He failed, but nonetheless was taken into care, with you moving in with us. You were like a shell of who you used to be. Doctors were seriously concerned by your mental state after everything, even diagnosing you with PTSD. We tried to live as normal of a life we could. You and I even managed to find a place to live together. But, then I came back one day to you about to shoot yourself... And then here we are, now."
Shen finished, his voice trembling, almost mirrored by his body shaking with what could only be described as heartbreak. His head hung low; he was unable to even look Llyod in the eye.
/ / word count - 940
/ / notes - honestly?? i hate this post. it feels very dialogue-heavy and messy and overall i'm not proud of it. i'm so, so sorry.
──────────────── ──────────── ─────── ────
// ''location maine medical centre''⋅'' role muse b ''⋅'''' faceclaim！''⋅'' tagsx
pasta
indent Shen couldn't prevent himself from flinching at Llyod's touch. The contact almost chilled his blood. It felt so foreign now. Unnatural, perhaps even extraterrestrial. Llyod couldn't even remember who Shen was, so he knew the gesture wasn't out of love or fondness. It must have been awkward for Llyod to even speak to him, let alone touch him, considering Shen in Llyod's mind had withered into nothing more but a stranger. He knew Llyod reaching out to him was an attempt to comfort him, yet was unable to take any consolation from it. He didn't like feeling as if he was pitied. Llyod was laid there in a hospital bed, for Christ's sake, why were his feelings remotely important right now?
"Please, you don't have to pretend like you remember who I am." He spoke softly, with a sad smile creeping its way onto his lips. "I think it will only make things harder from the both of us."
The fact of the matter was that regardless of the way you spun it, it was hard. Shen was hanging on by a thread, yet could only begin to imagine what Llyod was going through. The one person that Shen held dearest in the world had forgotten him. Though it was through no fault of Llyod's own, Shen couldn't help but feel comparable to a computer file that had simply been erased.
What made Shen feel worse was the hospital ward itself. The sickly mint green walls felt suffocating, closing in around him. It was like he was experiencing this current moment outside of his own body, as if he were watching a television show. He simultaneously felt disconnected from his own body, yet had never felt more trapped. He was hopeless, unable to escape the torrent of words telling him that the whole incident wasn't his fault, when he knew it was; he should have been there. He hadn't been good enough to save Lloyd, and everything that had happened had happened because of his failure. Shen wasn't good enough for Llyod and that statement had never felt more true, after the stunt he had just pulled. Lying his friend, of whom had been comatose, saying that he was his boyfriend? Even now, he couldn't bring himself to take it back, feeling sick to the stomach.
Shen's eyes swam, trying to focus back on Llyod's own eyes and he exhaled deeply, desperately trying to ground himself. He needed to maintain his composure, especially after the outburst he'd already put on display moments before.
"I'm sorry, but no one has told me. They gloss over it. I want to know why."
Every ounce - every iota - of self-pity and sadness immediately dissipated, replaced by a flood of rage. Shen could feel the emotion in his face, his ears and cheeks flushing with heat.
"N- Nobody told you?" He asked, struggling immensely to keep his voice steady. Shen almost choked on his anger, his voice wavering and cracking as he spoke. His jaw was taut, with his lips tightly drawn shut and he couldn't help but dig his fingernails into the linen sheets of the hospital bed.
"You've been through all of this, and now that you can't remember, no one had the decency to give you an explanation? I'm so sorry-" His voice started off laced with outrage, but petered out into a soft whisper, shaking now from being on the verge of tears. His grip on the mattress weakened, as his hands began to violently shake. Shen's mouth felt dry as he spoke, and he was forced to clear his throat several times before he managed to produce a sentence, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed, attempting to bring more moisture into his mouth.
"I'm sorry I got like that. Of course, I'll tell you, I'd do anything for you. But I beg you to at least consider what you're asking for before I speak. You deserve the truth, wholeheartedly, but that, in turn, means I will not sugarcoat anything for you."
Shen's breath was shaky, but he was determined to do this. For Llyod.
"We were close as kids. Practically inseparable, really. But then - uh - something bad happened. The reason only your aunt has come to visit you is because- Well... Your mother died when you were sixteen, from an unexpected illness. None of us saw it coming." He paused for a moment, looking down, with a single tear rolling down his cheek.
"I- I'm sorry she's gone. I loved her too, she was like my second mother, almost. But, after her death, your Dad wasn't coping well. He-" Shen was stopped in his tracks again. It felt wrong to say this aloud, it felt like it was forbidden. It felt taboo to speak of, especially to Llyod, who it had impacted so significantly. Reluctantly, Shen gulped and was able to press onwards.
"Your Father tried to kill himself. And- And you saw it. He failed, but nonetheless was taken into care, with you moving in with us. You were like a shell of who you used to be. Doctors were seriously concerned by your mental state after everything, even diagnosing you with PTSD. We tried to live as normal of a life we could. You and I even managed to find a place to live together. But, then I came back one day to you about to shoot yourself... And then here we are, now."
Shen finished, his voice trembling, almost mirrored by his body shaking with what could only be described as heartbreak. His head hung low; he was unable to even look Llyod in the eye.
/ / word count - 940
/ / notes - honestly?? i hate this post. it feels very dialogue-heavy and messy and overall i'm not proud of it. i'm so, so sorry.
pasta
gogo dancer
face claim: yoon jung jae
location: hospital room
mood: shocked :0
role: muse b
Waraeru
location: hospital room
mood: shocked :0
role: muse b
Waraeru
Llyod Ahn
The suffocating smell of latex gloves filled his nostrils as he let out a gasp of emotions. The sharp intake of breath was similar to a muffled sob. He wanted to hide any sign of vulnerable and negative emotion he could. Ironic. He was already in one of the most vulnerable states he could be in, he knew nothing of himself or anyone for that matter. He’d have to put his trust in people who claim to be close to him, using them as an aid until he regained his memory.
“Oh…” That’s what broke him, forced him into a bad enough mental state to attempt suicide. He had waited so long to hear the explanation, but now he wasn’t so sure he wanted it anymore. He couldn’t even fathom how he felt during that time in his life. And then it hit him if he was to regain his memories, wouldn’t he remember all that dark matter? Would it put him back into the same mental state? He could end up repeating the same actions he took.
“Thank you.”
Llyod pressed his lips into a thin line as his brain filled with TV static. He was unable to prepare a proper response and words got caught in his throat, staying put in his head. He felt so lost and disconnected from the world like he was a distorted type of Llyod. People held memories of the previous him, and he couldn’t supply the same responses and actions as he once did. Would he leave people feeling like they no longer know him? Would they become disappointed with him?
He worried that he would screw everything up for himself. The patient's eyes flickered to the male for a few moments before flicking bad to the white sheets. He noticed the tears falling from Shen’s eyes, and he felt himself fill with guilt. He ripped away the one closest to his supposed boyfriend. Sure, he was still there physically, but all memories and feelings towards Shen were wiped away like some seashell being pulled into the tide.
He didn’t know whether he’d been able to stay in a relationship with this stranger. Would he have to break up with him? But, that thought alone felt so wrong like he was kicking him while he’s down. The cruelness of his own thought made him heave a heavy sigh. The breath of air was quite loud in the room of thick silence. It made him cringe
He pondered what else to say next, but nothing would be soothing for Shen. Perhaps changing the subject would be best. Maybe living arrangements? Looking towards the future seemed more positive than doting on the past. “When I get discharged, am I going home with you? Unless you’d like me to stay somewhere else.” He asked. “They said I should be able to leave soon.” Once he left those hospital walls, he’d have to quickly funnel himself back into society. Perhaps find a job? Something to establish himself and fix his current state.
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