I can't live without you.. || Chanmin

The first step back

The phone rang late in the afternoon, cutting through the silence of the dorm like a bolt of lightning. Everyone had been scattered around the living room—Jeongin lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, Hyunjin doodling aimlessly in a notebook, Felix curled up under a blanket, and Chan sitting at the kitchen table pretending to review song edits.

When the call came, it was Chan who answered, his voice monotone out of habit. But as he listened, the color drained from his face, replaced by something none of the others could identify at first.

"Hyung?" Felix asked, sitting up.

Chan hung up the phone slowly, his hands trembling. "We can see him," he said, his voice cracking. "They said we can visit Seungmin."

For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The words hung in the air, surreal and heavy, before they finally sank in.

Jeongin was the first to react, sitting up so fast he almost toppled off the couch. "We can see him?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"They're really letting us?" Hyunjin whispered, his pencil slipping from his fingers.

Chan nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "They think it'll help him. They think he's ready to see us."

The dorm erupted into a mix of emotions—relief, disbelief, nervous energy. Felix hugged Jeongin tightly, both of them crying softly, while Hyunjin leaned forward, his head in his hands as he tried to process the news.

But Chan... Chan stayed rooted in place, gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His heart was pounding, his thoughts racing. He was terrified—terrified of what they would find, of how much Seungmin might have changed, of whether Seungmin would even want to see them.

The ride to the hospital was quiet.

Nobody spoke much, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Jeongin clutched Seungmin's hoodie in his lap, his fingers twisting the fabric nervously. Felix stared out the window, his lips pressed tightly together, while Hyunjin tapped his foot anxiously against the car floor.

Chan sat in the front seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind was a storm of emotions—guilt, fear, hope—but he didn't let any of it show. Not yet.

When they arrived, the sterile white walls of the facility seemed even more imposing than any of them had imagined. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, the quiet hum of the building interrupted only by the occasional sound of distant footsteps or murmured voices.

A nurse led them down a long hallway, her voice soft as she explained what to expect. "He's been stable," she said, glancing back at them, "but he's still fragile. Be gentle, okay? Just being here means more to him than you realize."

Chan nodded silently, his heart pounding harder with every step.

When they finally reached the door to Seungmin's room, the nurse paused, giving them a reassuring smile. "Take your time," she said before stepping aside.

Chan's hand hesitated on the doorknob. He glanced back at the others, who all nodded, their eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and fear. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

Seungmin was sitting by the window, his back to the door, his frame thinner than any of them remembered. The sunlight streaming through the glass cast a pale glow over his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheeks and the dark shadows under his eyes.

"Seungmin," Chan said softly, his voice trembling

At the sound of his name, Seungmin's head snapped up. His eyes widened, disbelief and something else—something fragile—flashing across his face.

"Hyungs? Innie?" His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't used it much.

Jeongin was the first to move, rushing forward and falling to his knees in front of Seungmin. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched at Seungmin's hands. "Hyung, I missed you. We all missed you so much."

Seungmin's lips parted, trembling as his gaze moved from Jeongin to the rest of them. Hyunjin was already crying, his hands covering his face, while Felix and Han stood frozen, their expressions a mix of relief and devastation.

"Why..." Seungmin started, his voice cracking. "Why are you here? You shouldn't have—"

"We're here because we love you," Chan interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was steady, but tears were already streaming down his face. "Seungmin, we never stopped loving you. We never stopped thinking about you."

That was all it took.

Seungmin broke, the walls he'd been holding up for months shattering all at once. He stood abruptly, stumbling toward Chan, who caught him in a crushing embrace. Seungmin's sobs were loud, heart-wrenching, his fists clutching at Chan's shirt as if letting go would make him disappear.

"I'm sorry," Seungmin cried, his words muffled against Chan's chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Shh," Chan soothed, though his own voice wavered. He held Seungmin tighter, his hand cradling the back of his head. "You don't have to apologize, Min. You don't have to say anything. We're here now. We're not going anywhere."

The sight of their leader breaking down was too much for the others. Felix stepped forward, pulling both Seungmin and Chan into a hug, his tears wetting their shoulders. Hyunjin and Han soon followed, and even Jeongin, who was still on the floor, wrapped his arms around Seungmin's legs.

They stayed like that for a long time, a tangled mess of limbs and tears, their sobs filling the room.

When they finally pulled apart, Seungmin's face was red and swollen from crying, but for the first time in months, there was a faint glimmer of something in his eyes.

"You really came," he whispered, his voice raw.

"Of course we did," Hyunjin said, his voice trembling. "You're our Seungmin. You're our family."

Seungmin's lips quivered, and he ducked his head, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "I missed you all so much," he choked out.

"We missed you too," Felix said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every single day."

As they sat together on the floor, Seungmin finally allowed himself to lean into their warmth, into their love. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a small, fragile flicker of hope.

And for the first time, he believed that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he thought.