9 days left.

He's back.

He didn't think he would be, especially after yesterday. But he felt lost like he needed closure. Even though she probably can't hear him, his guilt built up throughout the night. Did she notice that he didn't come yesterday?

The nurse told him that her vitals took a sharp turn for the worst yesterday. She said that it had never happened before; the way she declined was too steep for it to be random. It wasn't said, but Yeonjun has a sneaking suspicion that it was because he didn't come. If she died because he never said goodbye-

No. He wasn't even going to think about that. It didn't happen and there's no point in thinking what if's.

Taking his usual seat, he leans over and grabs her hand, wincing at how cold it is. This room used to be a sanctuary for him; now it feels like a prison cell. The white floors shine at him, aggressively giving him a headache whenever he looks down. The smell makes him want to throw up. If Yeonjun never uses bleach again, it'll be too soon.

Squeezing her hand once, Yeonjun sighs.

"You know," he says. "I thought you'd awake by now. I don't know what made me think that. You would think I've been through enough to stop being positive. But there was always something that told me to hold on."

Brushing her hair away from her forehead, Yeonjun smiles sadly.

"But there's that saying. If you really love something, let it go. You'll be happier without me when you move on. I'm letting you go."

A single tear slips down his cheek onto the blanket as he looks down at her. Quietly, as if she was actually sleeping and he was worried he would wake her, he begins to sing. One last time.