𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 || 𝟚𝕞𝕚𝕟

31 | Come Back...Be Here

Three hours passed before Chan returned.

He stepped into the nurse's office quietly, not wanting to disturb Minho if he was still asleep. Sure enough, Minho was still lying there, his face slack with exhaustion. The IV was still attached, and his breathing was steady but faint.

His heart twisted painfully as he watched Minho sleep. Even after hours, his complexion was still ghastly pale, dark circles carved deep under his closed eyes. His body looked frail under the thin blanket draped over him, as if he had been hollowed out from the inside.

The nurse had done all she could, hydrating him, making sure he was stable, but there was nothing she could do about whatever was tearing Minho apart from within.

Chan sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. He wished he knew what had happened, why Minho had let himself deteriorate like this. This wasn't just exhaustion—this was something deeper, something breaking him.

A soft noise pulled him from his thoughts.

Minho shifted, face contorting in pain, his lips parting slightly. He mumbled something, so quiet that Chan almost missed it.

At first, it was just a slight twitch of his fingers. Then, his brows furrowed, his lips parting as a faint, broken whisper slipped out.

"Seung... Seungmin—"

Chan's breath hitched.

Minho's face twisted, his expression troubled as more incoherent words followed.

"Please..."

Chan leaned in, trying to make sense of the words, his chest tightening when he heard Seungmin's name again.

He reached out, running a hand over Minho's forehead, trying to soothe him. "Shh, it's okay, Minho," he whispered. "Please wake up..."

But Minho was still trapped in whatever nightmare held him. His body trembled, his fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

"Min... Seungmin..." His voice cracked, breathless and desperate. "Don't leave me... please~"

Chan felt his heart shatter.

"Minho, wake up," he coaxed, stroking his hair gently. "You're okay. Just wake up."

Minho whimpered softly, his body shivering even under the warmth of the blankets. And then, after what felt like an eternity, his lashes fluttered, his chest rising with a sharp inhale. Slowly, his eyes opened.

The moment Minho saw Chan, something in him broke.

There was a desperate plea in his gaze, his pupils blown wide, panic flickering in their depths. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, but the urgency in it was unmistakable.

"Where's Seungmin?" His voice was shaky, raw. "Please take me to him, please, I want to—"

Chan's heart clenched. "He's not here, Minho-yah."

Minho's lips parted, his breath hitching as his hands weakly gripped the sheets. His entire body tensed, a devastated look washing over him. "I need to talk to him," he pleaded. "Take me to him, please~"

His voice cracked so horribly on the last word that Chan felt like he was physically punched in the gut. And then, suddenly, Minho was crying.

Not just silent tears, not just a quiet sniffle.

He was sobbing.

Though not too loud, they were raw, painful, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire frame. His hands trembled as they reached for Chan, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.