The Rise Of CuteGuy

Needy

The moment the doctors gave him the all-clear, it was like trying to hold back a hurricane. No amount of reasoning, warnings, or even sheer force could stop CG from making a beeline for the nearest window.

It started with a polite nod, a muttered "Thanks for the help," and then—before anyone could react—he had pushed himself up off the hospital bed, shaking off lingering dizziness like it was nothing. The bandages on his arms barely had time to settle before he was already eyeing the large window across the room with a gleam of mischief.

"Absolutely not," one of the medics warned, stepping in front of him.

CG simply grinned. "Absolutely yes."

Then he darted.

The entire room erupted into chaos as nurses and doctors lunged forward, trying to block his path. He ducked, spun, and weaved past them with an infuriating amount of ease, his movements fueled by sheer stubbornness. Someone managed to grab his arm, but with a flick of his wings, he slipped right out of their grasp like a ghost.

"CG, you're still recovering!"

"I'm fine!" he called back, one foot already on the windowsill. "Besides, I’m not sticking around to be poked at any longer. And you guys are way too slow."

"Please use the door like a normal person!"

"Not as fun," he shot over his shoulder before diving out.

For a split second, there was silence, followed by collective groans from the staff. They rushed to the window, only to see him swooping through the air like he hadn't just spent days confined to a hospital bed.

From below, he threw up a lazy salute. "Appreciate the concern! I’ll try not to get buried under rubble again—no promises, though!"

And with that, he was gone, leaving behind a group of very exasperated medical professionals who knew, without a doubt, that this wouldn’t be the last time he pulled a stunt like this.

And just like that, my chaotic, flirtatious partner was back—not fully ready for action, but definitely there.

I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face as I watched him disappear into the skyline, his wings catching the fading sunlight like something out of a painting. It was both infuriating and reassuring all at once.

“Does he ever listen?” one of the nurses muttered beside me, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal.

I let out a dry chuckle. “Not even a little.”

Still, despite my exasperation, I couldn’t help but smile. That was just how he was—reckless, impossible to keep still, and always throwing himself headfirst into danger without a second thought. But at the same time, he was alive. After everything that had happened, after all the close calls, that was what mattered.

I turned away from the window, already knowing I’d have to track him down sooner rather than later. Because if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that CG never stayed out of trouble for long.

I trudged down the sterile hospital stairs, arms overflowing with an absurd amount of heart-shaped pillows, blankets, and, of all things, Hot Guy and Cute Guy plushies.

This was humiliating.

I could already hear the whispers and giggles from the passing nurses and staff, but I refused to make eye contact. Nope. Not today. I was Hot Guy, a respected hero—not some lovesick fool lugging around a pile of ridiculously soft, overly affectionate gifts meant for someone else.

Except that someone else had very conveniently disappeared, leaving me with all of it.

I sighed, shifting the weight of the plushies and blankets so I could at least see where I was going. It wasn’t easy when one of the giant heart pillows was practically suffocating me.