Blossom In Autumn's Arms

What do the small flowers of autumn's arms do in October, in the grass, in bushes? Roses and peonies, who had bloomed to show off their true selves with leaves of green and petals of red. From spring to autumn, the clouds etch closer to the darker skies, blanketing our scenery with the cold warmth. Twigs sprawled in all directions, reaching for our sun dulled by those clouds. The landscape where nothing and everything changes, where shadows rise and fall, hover and veil, where the sun rises and sets became Uriel's view.

It's not just the flowers. All kinds of flora and fauna endure this harsh time in the same way. How do we dare to compare? How so very anxious and fretful we are not, believing that all things are waiting silently like rocks against ruthless nature. How ignorant. How flimsily plastic would our patience be, not being able to stay still to fill the void of every moment within something? Uriel can only hope that in the face of autumn, he learns to be ashamed of his complaints that life is too much or little to be bothered, and a new year to wake up the time of plants hiding in himself.

Thinking about how he lived, and may still live, boiled this all-consuming, quasi-destructive state in every square inch of his being. He didn't want to be hollow. Shallow. He didn't want to sit around and wait for spring to come. Some things are to be chased, some things aren't. He didn't want to be a product just made of money and absent parenting. He wanted to be a product of everything around him. Endure the rain without an umbrella, stare the sun right in the eye without shades. He wants to bloom, the same way a flower does.

If endurance, and blossoming, was hand in hand with separation, so be it. He ran away with his parent's money, to be away from his parents. Even if they weren't kind, he couldn't say he wasn't scared without them. A single tear kissed his quivering lip, upon realising, there is only really one person who understands him, really understands him, mere miles away. One person could equate to a thousand, Uriel reminded himself. He wiped the tear with a tranquil face.

Uriel had reached his penthouse, bitterly smiling upon noticing that everything was already arranged for him. Flopping atop his own couch, he allowed reality to settle for a moment.

He was here in Busan, in a penthouse towering over other buildings, but most importantly, very close to Erin's hospital and home. It might've taken a little while longer to reach his university, but he'd much rather be near Erin than anything else.

Erin.

He wasn't allowed to see him today. Though, that certainly wouldn't stop him trying. Kicked out by the skin of his teeth, he was this close to seeing him. He was far too close, now. It was just a matter of persistence and patience, which Erin had taught him.

The next day had arrived, and Uriel had decided that no matter what, he had to see the elder. In that case, he spruced himself up as much as physically possible. Taking a shower, he allowed the hot water running down every curve and crevice of his to cleanse his body and soul. It defined his lean muscles as if drizzled in honey, but he hurriedly dried himself off. He checked the time, cursing at himself for oversleeping. It had hit three pm, and he barely woke up an hour ago.

He scrubbed his body to the baby skin level of perfection, moisturising it with a cinnamon scent. Brushing his teeth for over six minutes, he scrubbed them until they bled. Needless to say, he was very nervous. He wanted to look good for Erin, for its their first time really truly meeting.

An oil coated his unblemished skin, and he rubbed a silken blend to define his wavy hair. Delicately styling a beret over his head, he tied his ensemble together with black wide-legged slacks, and a baggy, warm brown button-up shirt. Glimmers of silver decorated his ears and wrists. Gazing in the mirror, his brows furrowed. He was worried, worried if Erin wouldn't like his demeanour. What if he didn't look good enough? Uriel doesn't recall ever being too self-critical of his appearance, rendering him near clueless about what to do from here. Sighing, he simply sprayed a light spritz of sandalwood mist over his body, satisfied enough with his exterior.

It was now seven pm. He somehow managed to spend forever and a half getting ready. Deciding it was time, he rode the elevator down.

Erin had taken his first shower in a while, too, in preparation for his birthday tomorrow. Gihyun was allowed to visit, and he figured he shouldn't be a bio-hazardous repellent and wash his body. He felt fresh contrasting from the usual sticky feeling he was cursed with. Rubbing a clear balm over his lips, he smacked them together, not wanting them to prune up.

He switched from the news channel to some music playlist, neo-soul and soft jazz, he read. "Sexy," he scoffed with a smile.

Lying in bed, Mr Blue had made his appearance not too long ago.

"Hello, Mr Blue. You look madly bright tonight. Maybe you found a lover," Erin chuckled, a newfound energy from taking a shower fuelling him. "Or, you took a shower, like I did. Gross, aren't I?" he played with his pinkie, amused by his own comment. "You know, I feel empty. I can't shake off this feeling that I might've missed something; has that ever happened to you..?"

He looked back towards the great floating rock, shimmering a little brighter in response. "I guess not. But, it was kinda weird. I think my pinky muscle spazzed on me, maybe. Ah, I don't know! I've missed you, though. It's been so long! The nurse often shuts the curta-"

Erin was stopped mid-sentence, as he thought he felt his pinkie pull back again. Holding it down, he frantically looked around. He tried his best to breathe quietly, ears perking as he heard the sliver of sound coming from downstairs.

-

Uriel stood tall downstairs, holding a few items in his hands, whilst the elder lady nervously chuckled.

"So, can you call the doctor down?" he smiled tensely, cocking his head to the side.

"Ah, yes. Please allow me a moment," she sighed, shaking her head at this boy's persistence. Dialling the number, she called Doctor Lee down, who always wore an expression of goodwill on his face.

"Hello, Miss. You called?" he turned to the receptionist, shaking hands with her briefly.

"Hello, Doctor Lee. This man here would like to speak a few words with you regarding patient Park Erin," she stumbled out the last part of her sentence, as Uriel watched Dr Lee's eyes widen.

"You know him?" he faced Uriel.

"A-ah, yes. He's a very good friend of mine. Nice to meet you," he bowed his head.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr..?"

"Uriel, Kim Uriel! So, can I see him?" he exclaimed, the flame of hope relighting in his warm body.

He warily looked across the room, but shook his head. "Please follow me upstairs, so we can talk in private in my office, okay?" he reasoned.

Uriel politely agreed, trailing closely behind the doctor as he walked up the stairs. This familiar pull grazed his body. It felt like he was a magnet, being drawn to something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His body felt red, his tongue tasted red, his eyes saw red. Though, nothing was actually different. He had no idea what his body was doing to him. Pushing it to the side, he took the seat the doctor had offered him.

"So, Uriel. How long have you known Erin?"

"Uh, maybe about eight months? But we've spent loads of time over that game," he responded thoughtfully, crossing his legs over.

The doctor seemed to have considered his words greatly, nodding in response. "I see."

"So, can I see him now?"

"Unfortunately not, Uriel, dear."

"What? Why not?" he frowned, biting his lips.

"He is in intensive care."

"Please, I really don't know if this - he probably hasn't seen anyone in about three or four weeks, he's probably lonely," Uriel pleaded, reasoning with any factor that he could claw at.

"It's not that simple. He is in a condition little to no one else faces because of that headset, alongside several biological disadvantages he faces," he began, sighing wistfully. "It's complex. All you need to know is that I have made this decision to allow him to engage with reality, and reconnect neural pathways that may have weakened."

Uriel took a second, relaying his oscillating ideas both high and low. Flickering his eyes to meet the doctor's, he raised a brow. "Neural pathways are all about being exposed to things already learned, and reinforcing the memory, right?"

"Correct."

"How is he supposed to reconnect anything without human interaction or going outside?"

A nurse walked into the office with a bow, prepping some paper work.

"Look, Uriel-"

"I'm clearly not a doctor, but surely him being cooped in here for years wouldn't have done him good mentally?"

"That was a choice made by himself."

Uriel huffed, slumping into his chair. "No one would choose this voluntarily!"

That could've elucidated to anything.

"Not having parental guidance, and money amongst other things is certainly not voluntary, but he has chosen to remain under my care. Please understand."

Uriel was at a loss for words. Just this once, he wished he listen to his mother and studied biology just to understand what was going on through Doctor Lee's head.

The nurse gathered her paper work before dipping her head by the doctor's, whispering to him lightly. Doctor Lee's eyes shot from Uriel's, to the nurses, back to Uriel's, before whispering back. Painfully awkward, long seconds dragged its heels on the floor before the nurse gave a final bow paired with a smile, walking away. Uriel didn't know whether the doctor-hopsital-business-whispering was something he had the room to ask about since it didn't involve him, but the multiple glances at him begged to differ.

"What was that about?" he timidly began.

Doctor Lee sighed, sipping on his coffee. Erin had to save his energy, but he knew Uriel had a point. He knows. This surely wasn't the best option for him.

"Look. I'll tell you what," Doctor Lee began. "Since it's his birthday, I'll allow you to see him, but after the fourteenth, I cannot allow you to see him more than once a month. Is that fair?" he firmly stated, tone not once faltering. He'll talk him out of it after meeting Erin. He was not altering his decision, and Uriel jumped at the idea of seeing him.

The giddy feeling in his body spread to the tips of his fingers, as his features opened up into a blooming rose, an impossibly large amount. Heart racing, he nodded his head madly, bowing profusely.

"Thank you, thank you, oh, thank you! You have no idea what this means to me, doc!" he beamed, shaking his hand like a magic eight ball, refusing to let go. "Room number?" he shot out, not wanting to waste a single second.

"Number twelve, the corridor to the left," he chuckled, watching the young man zoom out the room as soon as he heard twelve. His smile lightly dropped, as he swirled his coffee cup solemnly. "I just hope you're ready."

He twisted and turned at every corner, same old bland blanche hospital corridors blurring before him. It all looked the same. The same, sterile colours gracing every nook and cranny, almost driving Uriel insane. Jogging a little further, he slowed down. He got lost a little, but he didn't mind. Taking a deep breath, his nerves found home in the pits of his stomach.

He was about to meet his Erin. The Erin he waited so long to glance upon. Would he still recognise him? It had been a while, after all.

"Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.." he counted each door, voice growing quieter with every number. Exhaling a puff of air, he stood before the final door down the corridor. "Twelve."

Uriel couldn't help but chuckle. Even his door was a royal blue, with a small moon painted in the corner. He wouldn't even need a door number to tell him who's room this was. Erin was far too easy, dangerously easy to love. Uriel smiled.

Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he breathed into his hand, checking if his breath was half decent. He even checked his phone mirror, flattening the loose, curly strands of hair.

He smacked his cheek a pretty pink. No more dawdling. Erin was beyond that door, waiting. But, what if he didn't want to see him? No. That's ridiculous. Uriel desperately shook those thoughts out of his head, placing his hand against the cold, metal door handle.

Uriel wanted to bloom.

The tug at his being grew even stronger, almost weighing down his own heart in fear. Pushing through the sensation, he entered the room with his fluffy head facing downwards.

Soft jazz. Warm blows of crescendoing trumpets, gentle strumming of drumsticks, and a soft hum that paused upon Uriel's entering.

Slowly but surely, he began to loom his gaze upwards. He saw a shiny, stone floor, to the legs of the bed. Those were silver, just like the rest of the bed frame. He saw a glimmer of the moonlight shining against the railing, holding a rather uncomfortable looking mattress. In the mattress, was a light dip.

He scoffed in frustration, feverishly impatient if his exhale said anything.

His jaw slacked a little, cheeks adopting a rosy blush, the passion of one thousand suns burning beneath his thin skin. Doe eyes roamed the still figure, resembling a little lost puppy staring at his owner after years. Plush and pink, his lips mouthed, "art," head lilting as if drunk on the scenery.

He almost forgot the art could speak.

"Uriel..?"