MINE, YOURS ONLY (SHORT STORY)

CHAPTER 9

Sailub awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. He groggily opened his eyes, and for a moment.

Everything was still yet until his gaze landed on Pon, still lying beside him, asleep but far too still. His chest tightened.

Pon's normally soft, rhythmic breathing sounded strained, as though each inhale was harder than the last. Sailub's pulse quickened.

Was he still unwell? He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Pon's forehead, his fingers cold against the skin.

A cold sweat.

Sailub's heart dropped as his hand lingered on Pon's forehead. It was burning. The fever was worse than it had been last night. Pon stirred slightly, but the weakness in his body was obvious.

"Pon..? my love?" Sailub whispered softly, gently shaking his husband awake.

Pon groaned weakly, his eyelids fluttering open, his face flushed with fever. His eyes were glassy, distant, and his breathing shallow.

"Are you okay, love?" Sailub's voice was calm, but the urgency was there, lurking beneath his calm exterior.

Pon tried to speak, but only a dry cough came out. He winced, his body jerking with each painful fit.

Sailub's chest tightened. Without another word, he quickly ran into action, pulling his phone from the bedside table.

It didn't take long for Sailub to decide. No meeting, no business nothing was more important than Pon's health right now.

He could hear the urgency in Pon's coughs, and the flush of fever was making him even more anxious.

He canceled all his meetings for the day, leaving a message for his assistant to reschedule everything.

This was the first time in a long while that he didn't care about work. There was only Pon.

After sending a few quick texts, Sailub turned his attention back to his husband.

Pon was barely able to sit up, his head resting against the pillow, his body trembling slightly from the fever.

Sailub could see the faint sheen of sweat on Pon's forehead, and the pallor in his cheeks.

"Sailub..." Pon's voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize, Pon," Sailub reassured him, kneeling beside the bed. His voice was gentle but firm. "You don't have to apologize for being sick."

Pon tried to offer him a faint smile, but it was weak and barely noticeable. His body was failing him, and it tore Sailub apart.

"I'll take care of you, love. Just hold on," Sailub said as he moved to get a wet cloth and cool water.

After cleaning Pon up and helping him sit up a little, Sailub took a moment to assess the situation.

Something didn't feel right. Pon's breathing was uneven, his fever showing no sign of breaking. His body wasn't responding to the medicine Sailub had given him earlier.

Sailub took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his calm. This wasn't normal. It couldn't be.

Pon's body trembled slightly, his chest rising and falling with each harsh cough. It wasn't just the fever anymore. Sailub was no doctor, but he knew something was wrong. He couldn't wait anymore.

"We're going to the hospital, Pon. Now," Sailub said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Pon's eyes flickered, and he weakly reached for Sailub's hand. "I don't want to... I don't want to bother you..."