SNS || jeon jungkook ✓

58. walk

58.

JAE'S POV
(translated)

Hours go by, and I find myself just sitting at her side in absent thoughts.

Tears stray down my flushed cheeks but I am in too much of a daze that I don't move to swipe them. Auntie is asleep, and predictably will be mostly sleeping from now on as I've been told by the nurses.

I feel numb. I'm staring at every crevice of her face remembering how expressive she used to be. For a woman who couldn't see, it never felt that way. Sometimes I forgot. Sometimes I felt as though she was the only one who actually saw me; but, maybe that's just how it works. She wasn't swayed by outer appearances— Auntie only could me judge by what I said and what I did.

My phone buzzed on the counter every once and a while. I took a glance the first time it went off. It was my mother. It only took her 24 hours to contact me about David.

I release a stressful sigh at yet another problem I don't want to get involved in. I've probably taken in my daily recommended amount of salt intake by how many tears are strolling into my mouth. I'm hurt. My lips continue to tremble and I'm still denying that this is happening to me.

It's approaching eight o'clock when I lean forward and grab her hand. The nurses have come in a few times, but they don't have much to say. She is so pale. I'm gripping her hand carefully as if I will break her.

"Auntie," I muster through what is probably my running nose at this point.

I'm staring at her— waiting. I'm waiting for some sign of her acknowledgement. Her head merely moves slightly and her eyes are fluttering, but fail to open.

I suck in a weary breath and lift her hand for me to look at. It's the hand of the woman who gave me knowledge I didn't have before. She showed me what my voice is capable of. Auntie showed me who she couldn't be and what she wanted for me.

"Auntie," I repeat somewhat softer.

Her eyes are drowsy when they barely open. I'm trying to hold back my audible crying but I can't. My chest is hurting and I am sitting on the edge of my seat to get closer to her.

"Hi," I greet her in a whisper.

Her hand squeezes mine. It's not a tight squeeze, but it's enough that I notice. I take that as her response.

"Y-Your..." I stop myself before my crying begins. I take another breath to calm down before trying again, "Your tests didn't have g-good news."

My lips are quivering too much when I try to stop crying. It's as if every muscle in my body is telling me just to let it out. Auntie doesn't move at all, but her head is tilted and her glossy eyes are looking at me as if she can see me. My chest physically hurts as it heaves and I'm trying to constrict myself but I still can't fight it.

I sniffle back my tears just enough to speak again, "You have cancer. It's... it's everywhere. T-They can't do anything to stop it."

I bring my other hand to lay upon our conjoined ones. Everything is a blurry mess again. I'm scared to blink in fear of missing a change in her facial expression.