이희승. 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗠𝗲

Chapter 38: Someone I Call Mine

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the narrow windows, and I blinked, groggy, realizing I had fallen asleep on the couch. The cushions beneath me weren't exactly comfortable, but it didn't matter. I insisted on taking the couch last night. Heeseung needed the bed more than I did—especially with the bullet wound still healing. He might have argued about it last night, but I didn't give him a choice. He had to rest properly, and I wouldn't forgive myself if he didn't.

As I stretched, I let my mind wander back to everything that had happened. The weight of Heeseung's confession still hung in the air between us, heavy and real. It was a shift, something neither of us expected.

Things felt different now, and I couldn't deny that. Our world was still dangerous, unpredictable, but there was a new clarity I hadn't felt before. Even amidst the chaos, somehow, I felt more grounded knowing that I had become closer to Heeseung than I could ever imagine.

Quietly, I rose from the couch, my feet hitting the cold floor as I moved toward Heeseung's room. I hesitated at his door, resting my hand on the knob. I didn't want to wake him. But I couldn't shake the need to check on him, to make sure he was still there, still breathing, after everything we'd been through.

I pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the small creak it made in the silence. The room was dim, the soft light of dawn casting faint shadows across the floor. Heeseung lay on his side, facing away from the door, his body curled slightly under the blankets. His breathing was even, his sharp features softened by sleep. For a moment, I just stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He looks so different when he's asleep—so peaceful. 

Can you imagine that this man right here... Just kissed me last night? And told me how much he cared about me? It felt impossible—this drastic change of dynamic between the two of us. It felt foreign. It felt weird. But I like it.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, lost in thought, before I found myself moving closer. My steps were quiet, careful, as I approached the side of the bed. I didn't mean to stay this long, but something about seeing him like this tugged at my heart in a way I wasn't used to.

Without thinking, I carefully sat on the edge of his bed, then I reached my hand out. My fingers hovered just above his face, hesitating for a second before I gently brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, almost as if he is about to have a fever.

But the moment I touched him, his eyes snapped open.

I froze, my heart slamming against my chest as I stood there, caught. For a split second, I considered pulling away, but before I could, his hand shot up, gently catching my wrist. His grip was firm but careful, as if he was afraid I'd disappear if he held on too tightly.

"Stay with me for a while," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "Please."

I swallowed, my breath catching in my throat as his words settled over me. My heart raced, not out of fear but something else, something that felt both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

He tugged gently, guiding me down until I found myself lying against his chest, my cheek pressed to the steady beat of his heart. His hand rested on the small of my back, holding me close but not trapping me, like he was giving me the option to pull away if I wanted to.

But I don't want to. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heart—it was comforting in a way I hadn't expected. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, into him.

"You're not uncomfortable, are you?" he asked, his voice soft and teasing.

I tilted my head slightly, glancing up at him with a small smile. "You're the one who's injured. Shouldn't I be asking you that?"