Sehun my husband

Chapter 8

=Chapter 8

(Y/N)'s POV

The hallway felt heavier that day in a way I couldn't explain, like something in the air had shifted without warning, settling into the space around me until even the smallest movement felt more noticeable than it should have. It wasn't something anyone else would see if they walked past, not something that changed the way the lights flickered above or the distant sounds of footsteps echoing through the building, but it was there—quiet, steady, impossible to ignore once I noticed it. Each breath I took felt slightly deeper, slightly slower, as if my body was trying to adjust to something it didn't fully understand, something that had been building for longer than I had realized.

I stood in the same place I always did, just outside his room, my back resting lightly against the wall, though even that small point of contact felt necessary now. My arms hung loosely at my sides, my fingers curling and uncurling without any clear rhythm, the motion unconscious but grounding in a way that kept everything else from slipping too far out of place. I wasn't leaning heavily, not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that I didn't feel like I would lose my balance if I stood there too long.

Because standing had started to feel different.

Heavier.

Not enough to stop me.

But enough to make me aware of it.

I hadn't gone inside.

Not since yesterday.

Not since the way he looked at me had made it clear that whatever I was holding onto... wasn't something he could see anymore.

And yet—

I had still come back.

Even after telling myself I wouldn't.

Even after knowing it wouldn't change anything.

Because leaving had felt wrong.

And staying, even like this, even at a distance—

Still felt easier.

Inside the room, Sehun sat up more comfortably than before, his body recovering in small, noticeable ways that made everything seem like it was returning to normal. At least, on the surface. His movements were steadier now, less hesitant, his strength returning in ways that made it easier for him to shift, to adjust, to exist in the space without thinking about it too much.

But something didn't feel right.

Not in a way he could point to.

Not in something obvious.

It was quieter than that.

Subtle.

Annoying, even, because it refused to make sense.

His gaze drifted toward the door again, lingering there without intention, his attention catching on it like it had been doing more frequently since morning. It wasn't something he was aware of at first, not something he questioned immediately, but the more it happened, the harder it became to ignore.

"...She's still outside, isn't she?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual, though there was something heavier behind the question this time.

Taeyeon, who had been sitting nearby, glanced at him briefly before following his gaze toward the door, her expression composed, unreadable for a moment before softening again into something more familiar.

"She is," she replied calmly.

Her answer came easily.

Too easily.