Sehun my husband

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

(Y/N)'s POV

The room felt different the moment I stepped inside.

Not just quiet—but hollow, as if something important had been taken out of it, leaving behind only echoes of what used to be there. The faint beeping of the machines filled the air in a steady rhythm, soft but persistent, each sound pressing gently against the silence rather than breaking it. It should have been reassuring. It should have meant that he was still here, still alive—but instead, it only made everything feel more fragile, like his existence had been reduced to something mechanical.

My eyes found him immediately.

They didn't have to search—they just knew where to look.

He was lying there exactly where the doctor said he would be. Still. Unmoving. Too still. For a moment, I remained by the door, my hand still loosely gripping the handle behind me as if I needed something to steady myself. I couldn't move. It felt like if I took even one step forward, everything would become real in a way I wasn't ready for.

"...Sehun...?"

My voice came out softer than I expected, barely audible even to myself. It disappeared into the room almost instantly, swallowed by the silence.

There was no response.

Of course there wasn't.

I swallowed slowly, forcing my body to move despite the heaviness in my chest. One step. Then another. The distance between us wasn't far, yet it felt like it stretched endlessly, like something inside me was resisting every movement forward.

When I finally reached his bedside, I stopped again.

Up close... it felt worse.

Much worse.

His face looked the same—calm, familiar, almost peaceful in a way that didn't match anything around him. If I ignored everything else—the machines, the wires, the unnatural stillness—I could almost pretend he was just sleeping.

But I couldn't.

Because this wasn't sleep.

My hand lifted slowly, hesitating just above his before finally reaching out to touch him. My fingers brushed against his, and the coldness that met my skin made my breath hitch slightly. It wasn't freezing—but it wasn't warm either.

Not like before.

"...You're really not going to wake up just because I'm here, huh...?" I whispered, a small, unsteady breath leaving me that sounded closer to a broken laugh.

I pulled a chair closer and sat down beside him, not letting go of his hand. My fingers wrapped around his gently, almost carefully, as if I was afraid he might disappear if I held on too tightly.

"I waited for you," I murmured quietly, my thumb tracing slow, absent circles over his skin. "I made dinner... I even made your favourite... and I kept thinking you were going to walk through the door any second..."

My lips curved faintly, though the expression didn't quite reach my eyes.

"...You're late, Sehun."

The words lingered in the air longer this time.

But they still didn't go anywhere.

Because there was no one to answer them.

Time passed in a way that felt unfamiliar—slow, yet somehow slipping through my fingers without warning. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, each second stretching into something longer, heavier, more noticeable than it should have been. Nurses came and went, their movements quiet, their voices soft, but they felt distant, like they existed in a different world entirely.