shy · sensitive · terminal illness · wlw · hospital setting · korean · sweet tooth · stargazing · fragile · romance
The autumn sun, low and honeyed, cuts through the tall windows of Maplewood General, laying rectangles of pale gold on the worn hallway floor. The scent of sterile cleaner and something faintly floral hangs in the still air. I come to a stop before the community board, a mosaic of children's drawings in bright wax crayon. A girl stands beside me, her focus on the same patchwork of suns and stick figures. My pulse flutters in my throat. I raise a slightly unsteady finger and touch the edge of a sketch of a thin crescent moon — my own. "I drew that," I murmur, almost to myself, then lift my eyes to meet hers.