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୨\🍯・✦ʚꐑꐑ꒷꒦₊꒰﹕\🍪﹕꒱₊꒦꒷ꐑꐑɞ✦\🍯ଓ
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃'𝓈 𝒫𝒪𝒱:
୨\🍯・✦ʚꐑꐑ꒷꒦₊꒰﹕\🍪﹕꒱₊꒦꒷ꐑꐑɞ✦\🍯ଓ
The hospital room room was bathed in an unsettling silence. The air hung thick. and the scent of sweat, a stark contrast to the usual vibrant energy that pulsed through the space. Yeonjun lay sprawled on the soft bed, his face pale against the pillow. An IV pump hummed softly beside him, the transparent tube snaking its way into his arm. A ventilator mask rested gently over his nose and mouth, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life.
Beomgyu, usually a whirlwind of energy, stood frozen, his eyes fixed on his husband. An unnatural stillness had descended on him, the very air around him feeling heavy. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat echoing the fear that clawed at his throat.
His eyes scanned the room, landing on the IV pump and ventilator, their stark white against the muted tones of the room adding to the somber scene. He felt a surge of anger rise within him, his fists clenching involuntarily. How could Yeonjun, his Yeonjun, who always put others before himself, let himself become so weak?
He knelt down beside Yeonjun, his anger melting into a wave of raw worry. The sight of his husband, usually so full of life, lying so vulnerable and pale, brought a tremor to his voice. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Yeonjun's forehead, his touch light and trembling. 'Junnie,' he whispered, his voice laced with desperation.
He then took off his jacket and draped it over Yeonjun, the warmth of the fabric a feeble attempt to soothe his rising fear. Finally, he leaned down, his cheek resting against Yeonjun's chest, listening to the faint, ragged breaths. His own heart, a frantic drum against his ribs, found solace in the steady rhythm of Yeonjun's breath. He closed his eyes, letting the familiar scent of Yeonjun's cologne and the faint, sweet smell of the IV fluid wash over him.
He felt a familiar well of sadness, the kind that came with watching Yeonjun push himself too hard. He understood that being a successful performer came with sacrifices, but it didn't make it any easier to see his husband so vulnerable. He knew Yeonjun would dismiss his concerns as overprotective, but Beomgyu couldn't help but feel a deep sense of responsibility for the man he loved.
As he sobbed quietly, his face pressed against Yeonjun's chest, he felt a slight tremor beneath him. He opened his eyes to see Yeonjun's hand twitching, the movement so small it was almost imperceptible. His heart leaped, a surge of hope replacing the despair that had threatened to suffocate him. Yeonjun's eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened.
His gaze, blurry at first, focused on Beomgyu. His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief crossing his features. Beomgyu, his face stained with tears and his upper lip swollen from biting it, sat bolt upright, looking like a small, scared child.
'Beomgyu?' Yeonjun croaked, his voice raspy and weak, 'What...what are you doing here?'
Beomgyu, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and anger, reached out, his hand grasping Yeonjun's tightly. 'You...you scared me,' he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He searched Yeonjun's eyes, the confusion mirrored in his own. 'What...what happened?'
Yeonjun's eyes drifted to the IV pump, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. 'I...I didn't feel well. Must have overworked myself.'
Beomgyu's grip tightened. 'Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you eat? You know I worry.' His voice, laced with barely suppressed anger, betrayed his growing frustration.
Yeonjun, ever the peacemaker, reached up and gently brushed Beomgyu's tear-stained cheek. 'I'm sorry, Gyu. I didn't want to worry you.'
He leaned forward, his forehead resting against Beomgyu's, and gave him a gentle, tender kiss. Beomgyu, his anger fading into a mixture of love and exasperation, returned the kiss, his heart swelling with a renewed sense of gratitude for the man he loved.
'You're an idiot, you know,' Beomgyu mumbled against his lips, his voice thick with emotion. 'You need to take care of yourself, you ass. I can't bear the thought of you getting sick.'
Yeonjun chuckled softly, the sound a welcome melody in the stillness of the room. 'I know, I know,' he whispered, his voice laced with fondness, 'but I'm fine now. I promise I'll take better care of myself.'
The warmth of their bodies pressed together, the quiet murmur of a shared love filling the silent room, was a comforting reminder of their shared bond. Despite the scare, they knew they had each other, a love strong enough to weather any storm, even one brought on by an overworking boyfriend.
