#the8x you

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: The8x fem!reader 

Requested: no

Genre:  angst, established relationship, hint of fluff

Warning(s): themes of grief, loss, major character death, mourning and hospitalization (im not a doctor so please excuse my medical knowledge)

Summary: You never thought of your husbands life as fleeting. But time did its dutiful job of reminding you so.

Word count: 1.1k

Other works 

Beta reader: none

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration. 

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

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You wore the baby blue dress, adorned your eyes with waterproof mascara, and got ready to go out. Your son shouted from the kitchen, “Mom, I packed one more hotteok for you. Have it with Dad. He will love it.”

Smiling at how thoughtful of a young man your son had grown up to be, you walked out of the bedroom to caress his head. “I will eat it. Don’t worry so much.”

The boy gave you a hug in return, promising to visit you with his wife sometime soon. After all, the girl was pregnant and would need as much care from you as possible during her pregnancy.

With that, you walked out, ready to meet your husband for his birthday lunch, which was packed in the heat-retaining bag with you. It was almost an hour’s drive to the place from where you lived. The commute never got easier, no matter the time or the day.

You got into the taxi; you were never one to learn driving. It was just not needed, as someone at your house was always there to help you commute, be it your husband or your son. So at times like this, you felt the absence of the skill.

But it was not like life didn’t go on. It was not something you wanted to change at this age. You were scared of banging the car into some random tree and feeling the wrath of your husband for causing damage to the love of his life, Vivian. Yes, that indeed was the name of the car. And yes, it was the great idea of your husband to name it so. Some might say you both didn’t have a daughter, but he would like to disagree with them, because you both obviously had Vivian. You sometimes suspected he loved that godforsaken car more than you.

The man was shameless enough to agree with those accusations, but he was too cute to argue with, so you let him be.

The time passed inside the car thinking about your husband, the times you both had spent together, all those rocky yet satisfying moments, and all those nights you both ditched all your friends and family to stay in together, basking in each other’s presence. It was one of those feelings that made you warm and mushy inside, no matter what.

----

“Do you think we will be together forever?” Minghao asks you. It's been a year since you both tied the knot after dating for two, and yet you still feel like your breath stops every time you see him. He just has that effect on you; it's not reasonable, but it's true.

“What do you mean? You are stuck with me. I will hold onto you no matter how much you try to escape!” you say as you pull him in for a kiss.

Satisfied with your answer, he happily goes back to doodling in his diary.

----

As you walked into the hospital, you gave the guard a kind smile, which he returned. After all, when you frequent a place long enough, you end up becoming acquainted with almost everyone who works there.

Quickly, you walked to your husband's cabin. As you entered the room, you could hear your lover whining at the nurse about something, a sound that immediately ceased as his eyes found you.

Without wasting any time, he stretched his arm towards you, his eyes asking for you to hold him. As you embraced him, the nurse walked out, giving you both privacy.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you said quietly, as he rested his head on your chest.

“What did you bring me?” came a quiet whine from underneath you. Laughing, you let go of the man and began to show him, one by one, the feast you had prepared for him.

The minute he laid his eyes upon them, his face broke into a childlike smile, waiting for you to complete plating his food so he could enjoy them.

After all, it had been a long time since his doctors allowed him to have something you brought for him. Within seconds of putting the food on the plate, it was gone. Not that you were complaining, but it was still a record for the man. Never had you seen him devour your cooking this fast.

“Slow down,” you had told him, but the man had all his attention focused on the food, too much to care for his wife.

The nurse didn’t let you stay in the room long after that. The authorities were a bit too strict about maintaining the rules for your liking, but it was okay.

With a last meaningful glance at each other, you exited the room to meet his doctor to complete the procedures for his discharge.

----

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N,” your husband cries out loud from your embrace, and you hold him, rocking gently.

“But you promised you would hold on. What will I do without you?” you say, trying to hold back your tears.

Looking at you, he wipes the stray tears that have escaped. “I can’t live like this. It’s too much. I’m three surgeries in already, and I don’t see any hope anymore. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. Plus, this place feels too suffocating for me to be in.”

Not being able to come up with a rebuttal, you just stay as you are, trying to understand why it has to be him who goes through so much pain while simultaneously pleading with some supernatural being to give you all his pain.

That night you both spend crying. But what has to be done will be done.

----

 Minghao had been dancing most of his life. Even after he stopped being a professional dancer, he was a dancer at heart. The constant heart attacks that resulted in him being permanently attached to life support, along with the surgeries, killed him inside. They slowly murdered the dancer in him. He lost his sense of freedom, something he treasured the most.

It was then he realized nothing was worth his freedom, not even his life. So there you were, arguing with the doctor to let him be discharged, even though he was at high risk of having another heart attack and should be constantly monitored.

“I understand that, sir, but this is what my husband wants, so I would like you to prepare his discharge papers,” you said, persistent.

“Sure, ma’am. It will be done by tomorrow,” the doctor said reluctantly after realizing there was no winning with you.

After completing the procedure, you went back to your husband to give him the good news about going back home the next day. He looked happy. You could see it in his eyes, and you were happy for him.

If only you had known that the next day you would take your husband away from that hospital for good, but not in the way you had hoped to.

That night, Minghao suffered another attack, one that was hellbent on taking him away from you. It ended up succeeding.

As you sat there at the funeral home, beside the beautiful picture of your smiling husband, and with your son greeting the guests coming to pay their respects, you couldn’t help the tears from falling as you thought of the happy memories you both had shared and how even eternity was too little time for you to spend with him.

The End