𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐒 & 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 🀥 [ᴍᴀʀᴋʜʏᴜᴄᴋ]

7 | 我还会再见到你吗？

Mark stood outside the infirmary, his heart beating faster than usual. He had been the one to save Haechan that fateful night, and now he was about to see the boy again, awake and aware. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, with the soft hum of medical equipment filling the silence. Haechan lay in the bed, looking fragile and pale, but his eyes were open, filled with a mix of curiosity and fear. As Mark entered, those eyes widened in recognition.

Mark shuffled awkwardly, not used to being in such vulnerable situations. He was a man of action, used to dealing with threats and violence, not delicate conversations. Yet, here he was, face to face with the boy he had saved.

The scent of musk, leather, and tobacco wafted through the air, the same scent that had clung to Haechan's memory since that night. Haechan's breath hitched as he connected the dots. It was the same scent. The man standing before him was the one who had saved him.

Mark cleared his throat, his voice deep and slightly gravelly, but with an edge of gentleness. ❝Hey, are you okay?❞

Haechan nodded slowly, still processing the presence of the man who had rescued him. He could feel his heart racing, a mixture of gratitude and fear. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. ❝You... you were the one who saved me that night, weren't you?❞

Mark nodded, his eyes steady and reassuring. ❝Yeah, that was me.❞

Haechan's mind raced with questions, but he focused on the most immediate one. ❝What's your name?❞

❝Mark,❞ he replied simply, watching Haechan's reaction closely.

Haechan swallowed hard, his throat dry. ❝Why did you save me?❞

Mark hesitated for a moment, then decided to be honest. ❝I don't know. I usually focus on my job, don't get involved with things like that. But that night, something told me I needed to help you.❞

Haechan's eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude shining through the fear. ❝Thank you,❞ he said quietly. ❝I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there.❞

Mark nodded, accepting the thanks but not lingering on it. He wasn't used to being a hero, and the praise made him uncomfortable. ❝Just glad I was there in time,❞ he said, his tone still rough but sincere.

They fell into a silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Mark shifted his weight, feeling out of place in the infirmary. He glanced around, taking in the medical equipment and the sterile environment, contrasting sharply with the chaos of his usual life.

Haechan broke the silence, his voice still shaky. ❝So, what happens now? Am I safe here?❞

Mark's expression grew serious. ❝You're safe here. We'll make sure of it. The guys who attacked you... they won't get to you again.❞

Haechan nodded, his trust slowly building. Despite the rough exterior, there was something about Mark that made him feel safe. ❝What is this place, anyway?❞

Mark hesitated, considering how much to reveal. ❝It's our base. We handle things that the regular authorities can't. We protect people from the kinds of threats that came after you.❞

Haechan's eyes widened. ❝You're like... a vigilante group?❞

Mark chuckled softly, the sound surprising even himself. ❝Something like that. But more organized. We're called NCT 127.❞

Haechan's mind reeled with this new information. It was a lot to take in, but he felt a strange sense of relief knowing he was in capable hands. ❝Thank you, Mark. For everything.❞