From The Tip Of Your Pinky

Uriel had finally reached inside the plane, cosying up to the window seat. The plush seats cushioned his lean frame, and he swore he could've curled up and slept as easily as dozing away on his little couch back at his parents' house. The engines roared and the winded buffeted, it was his sky-born cradle, rocked by the winds far above the ground. Even as the engines turned, his brain relaxed into dreaming mode, there were thousands of miles to go and all he had to do was let this technological bird fly him there. The plane moved onward into the hallowed space between the heavens and Earth, the graceful bird of silver-wing. Soaring above the cotton clouds was something Uriel forever felt thrilled by. To be so high up made him feel as if nothing on Earth mattered anymore. Every second passing by only made him that much more impatient to see Erin.

Dipping lower, the airplane landed upon the brightly lit tarmac, wheels kissing the earth with a small, joyous bounce. He was glad the ride barely lasted two hours, for his patience just about hit its limit.

Home.

He was finally, finally back home. South Korea, his place of birth. Busan only felt warm because of one person who lived here.

Grinning madly, he probed his driver to drive past the speed limit and hurry up, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor. He was going to see Erin. His Erin. Erin of reality.

Just the thought of him sent a weird, unexplainable wash of heat over his body, one that loitered around on his skin, dancing and prancing for the rest of time.

Giving his driver a set of instructions, he told him to stay here until he came back, and to keep his suitcase safe. Exiting the car, he took a breath of fresh air. Taking in the great length of the building, he shuddered. Busan Medical Centre.

He had driven all the way from Gimhae International Airport, to here. He was mere metres away from Erin. Erin, Erin, Erin.

Erin in the night. That's the Erin he was to see.

Glancing at the time, it read eleven pm. Just below his time, he saw about half a million missed calls from his father. He cringed, knowing he was certainly in trouble, but didn't care. He was within Erin's radius, after all. How could he care about anything else?

A grin clawed onto his face, refusing to dissolve. With clenched fists and fast legs, he allowed the wind to card through his hair as he bolted through the hospital doors. He knew Erin was here. The unexplainable pull around his pinkie tightened in ways he's never felt. He's sure he's here.

Huffing, he held onto his knees as he got a stitch from running too fast. Forcing himself to snap upwards, an elder lady sat at the reception, beaming her organically perfect smile. The wrinkles curtained the corners of her lips, pushing her skin to flaunt her grin.

"Hello, dearie. How may I help you?" she bowed her head for a quick second, facing Uriel again.

Uriel thought he heard a squeal escape his mouth in mere excitement to use Erin's name on someone in real life. Calming his nerves, he pinched the side of his thigh not so subtly, whilst the elder breathed a light chuckle.

"I'm looking for Park Erin! You know, average height, silky black hair, pale skin. He's nineteen, and-"

The nurse took hold of Uriel's fumbling, hot hands, bringing his nervous rant to a halt. Her smile faltered, eyes losing its prominent glimmer. "Park Erin, the...liver patient?" she lightly frowned, wrinkles in her skin creased with concern.

"Ah, yes! You know him! What's his room number?" he grinned impossibly wide, pearly teeth on full display as his mouth forged a boxy shape. Jittering all of his words, he bounced up and down in his spot.

"Oh, dearie, you can't see him. He's in intensive care. I'm sorry," she sadly rejected, presenting a look of comfort and pity.

His grin dropped a bit, eye brows forming a bridge arching deep in concern. "Oh, please? I'm a really old friend of his, I haven't seen him in so long!"

"I can't help you, darling. His own family can't see him, either."

"Please, I'm begging you - I came all the way from Japan.." his whole demeanour shifted from that of pure bliss to absolute cluelessness and desperation. Here or there, and unfortunately, he's never here, never close enough. He can't go back now, there was no way.

Erin grew restless in his bed, unable to sleep from all the commotion occurring somewhere downstairs. Twisting and turning, he stood up. He definitely couldn't sleep as of right now. Heading to his mini fridge, he pulled out a fresh bottle of spring water, chugging half of it drearily.

A nurse had shuffled in quietly, but cocked her head as she saw Erin wide awake.

"You're up? You should be sleeping," she recommended, picking up small bits of equipment.

"I can't sleep. They're really noisy down there, no?"

"Ah, yes. The boy has quite a voice; very loud."

"What's happening downstairs..?" he huffed, itching his brow as drowse coated his every move.

"I couldn't really understand. All I could pick apart is that he wanted to see someone," she shrugged, closing the curtains.

"Was it Gihyun..?"

"No, don't you worry, Erin. He's resting at home," she smiled, ruffling his hair.

Suddenly, Erin didn't feel so drowsy anymore. Something was pulling him, gravitating him towards the door, but he felt stuck in place. He couldn't move, and he just couldn't understand why. His pinkie twitched, and suddenly, the commotion stopped.

He thought he was being delusional.

Inching towards the door, the nurse pulled him back.

"You shouldn't go. Your ears are very sensitive right now. Go to bed," she suggested, measuring his temperature for a brief second, before gently dragging him back to his hard mattress.

Erin sighed, staring at his pinkie in slight shock. Even if it was minor, such a small movement, he looked at the nurse expectantly. As if she saw, or she understood. She tilted her head in confusion, before saying something that went unheard to Erin and walking away.

-

Uriel massaged his pinkie at the sudden twitch it had, voice completely dissolved. Craning his neck upwards again, his frustrations rushed back in like a broken dam releasing water. "You just have to let me in - It's his birthday in two days, too!" Uriel pleaded and begged, placing his hands in a tight clasp as he rubbed them together in respect.

"Listen, son. I've told you, come back tomorrow, and you may talk to his main doctor," she tried to remain calm, having dealt with this situation several times in the past. It's not unusual to see someone pleading with every fibre of their being to see a loved one so very within their reach, yet, not close enough. Some could see their beloveds, some couldn't, and Uriel conveniently fell into the latter.

Uriel huffed, fluffing up his hair before bowing half-heartedly. Honestly speaking, he felt hopeless, slightly broken, and dejected. All he wanted to do was see Erin. Was that too much to ask for? Was the mere sight of the person he's connected with, such an undoable demand that even when he's mere metres away, it still isn't enough?

Trudging back to the car, he flung the door open, slamming it behind him. "To the new apartment, please."

-

"Someone get Erin!" a staff yelled, watching Erin skid down the hallways, gracefully hopping down the stairs. His hair bounced lightly with every move, pyjamas filling with the air he was dashing past. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he breathed heavily as he glanced across the room. Chairs, tables, water machines, and a glossy floor. A small plant pot in the corner of the room. An elder lady sitting at the desk. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The rise and fall of his chest dissolved into light breaths, as the tug at his pinkie grew weaker and weaker.

"Miss, where's the-" he paused. Who? "The - uh, the loud kid? He was here, right?" he asked, unsure of why he even mustered the effort to run down the stairs and care. Why did it matter? Why did his own two feet drag him to something so meaningless, to someone most likely unimportant?

"Oh, he left, dearie," she replied curtly, eyes fixated on her computer screen.

With no time to reply, two tall doctors grabbed Erin by either arm, escorting his room.

He missed it.