book one ❧ [viii]

                                    

                                          
Tonight        had been rough. This was the third  night in a row that you had   gone    in   circles trying to calm your  mother down from a frightened   state,     afraid  that every creak of  the house settling, gust of the   air     conditioning  rustling a  curtain, or wind blowing a tree branch   outside     was a ghost.   Despite being aware that your house was actually inhabited by a ghost, you knew it wasn't Jisung doing any of those things.
You         had finally gotten her back to sleep at almost one in the   morning,     and   shut her bedroom door behind you with a sigh.   Shuffling into  the      kitchen, you stopped in the middle of the room,   rubbing a hand  over    your   face as you just stared blankly at the   countertop. You   couldn't   even   remember what you had come in here   for.
"Hey,"       Jisung called for your   attention softly, his quiet footsteps     approaching   from behind you.   "Did you want water? Hot chocolate?"
"Ugh, I don't even know," you groaned, turning around and burying your face in his shoulder. "I'm so fucking tired, Jisung."
"Then let's get you to bed," he suggested, trying to usher you out of the kitchen, but you didn't budge.
Looking         up at him, you sniffled, "This is the third night this has     happened...  I    don't know if I can... What if I can't—What if—What am     I—What if I   can't   do it by myself? What if I can't take care of her     like she needs   on my   own? She's only going to get worse and I'm...   Oh   God, I'm  tired."
Tears    streamed down   your   cheeks now  as you felt an exhaustion from deep    within. You   felt it   in every  fiber of your being, in your bones, deep in    your   chest.  You  couldn't  remember a time when you didn't feel worn out like this.
Jisung's         eyes widened as his hands frantically fluttered over your arms   and       shoulders, clearly unsure of where to settle as he went to try   to       comfort you. "Ah, Y/N, oh, no. Oh, God, I'm so sorry that you   feel  so      tired. You're doing so good." He squeezed your  shoulders.   "You're  not     alone. I know it can feel like that, but  you've got   Nayoung,  too. Your     stepdad left a fund to pay for your  mom's care,   right? You  can use  that    to have Nayoung here more if  you need her   to, can't  you? I've  heard  her   ask if you want to  adjust her   schedule..."
"Yeah,      she has,"  you nodded, the   admission only making you cry harder. "I      just—I  don't want to   think about needing more help, about needing       Nayoung more, because   that really means that she's getting worse. But I       can't—She needs   more than me." 
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Jisung said, his own eyes shining in the dim light. "I wish I could make everything better for you."
You         gave him a shaky smile, the best you could muster in the moment,         patting one of his hands that were still holding you by the    shoulders.      "I know. Thank you, just having you here to listen to me    means a  lot."
He     wiped at your tears  with   his  thumbs, his hands shaking slightly as  he    gently cradled  your   face.  "Let me help you however I can—you know,     without  freaking   your mom  out. You can take care of your mom and  I'll     take care of   you.  Please."
It was all you could do to nod your head in his hands. He let out a breath of relief.
"Come         on, let's get you back to bed." He wrapped an arm around your         shoulders, guiding you out of the kitchen successfully this time.
At the top of the stairs, you stopped and grabbed his hand, pleading, "Don't leave me, Jisung."
He chuckled lightly, lacing his fingers with yours. "Where could I even go? I'm stuck here."