Sitting in that blank-slate room was more torturous than the journey to get to it. Chanyeol crouched over, his warmed head laying, still, against the hospital bedsheets. His blonde locks swooped onto the cushioned surface, barely brushing against the patient's bruising hand. The wires and tubes jutted out of her like puppet strings, a comforting, steady beep singing in the background.
"She'll be fine." Baekhyun muttered, looking away from the depressing pair. Chanyeol chuffed, dropping his head into his elbow to meet eyes with the serial killer.
"Thankyou, again." He slowly spoke, voice deep and smooth like liquor, a slight raspy growl pushing through the landscape of his throat.
Baekhyun nodded, absentmindedly, giving in and turning to look over at the taller for just a brief moment. But Chanyeol refused to look away; refusing to free the killer's sweltering irises from his, his stare filled with the unspoken gratitude he felt towards his elder.
The latter's empty expression seemed to falter under his strengthened gaze, his lips pressed into a worrisome line.
Baekhyun felt like how a mother would feel as her child pleads for candy, meanwhile, she doesn't know if she could even afford a roof for the night.
But he had given in, he had let Chanyeol get what he wanted even though it was the wrong thing to do. But why? Why did he feel the need to make the broken boy so happy?
"I'm sorry I forced you to come with me, Hyung." Chanyeol whispered, so very close. "I know you have other things to do tonight..."
He was right. Baekhyun did have other things to do; other people to slaughter tonight. But the killer had faith in his talents; he could get all of them in under ten minutes if he really wanted too, and right now, that sounded like something he would ultimately have to do.
Chanyeol let out a meek laugh at the boy's silent response. "I don't really know why you choose me to be with you anymore, but nevertheless, even though I don't know how you feel about me, I've found myself becoming quite... attached to you." He continued, darting his eyes away in shame. He paused for a moment, a little apprehensive to keep talking due to the lack of response from the serial killer, who was sitting, thoughtlessly, alongside him.
After some time had passsed, Baekhyun reached his arm out, lifting the weighted limb from his spread lap. His cold palm, still chilled by the snowy breeze outside, came to collide with the younger's tanned cheek. The touch was feather light, rolling from the base of one large ear to the tip of his slender chin. Chanyeol breathed lightly, the gentle air cascading over the contours of Baekhyun's lengthy fingers.
The blonde's gaze slowly arose, Chanyeol's drowsy eyes barely open as he carefully observed the killer's focused expression.
"What's so good about me?" Baekhyun softly breathed, his shattered voice barely hearable in that noisy hospital room.
Chanyeol watched his ruby mouth move as he spoke, enthralled.
"I don't know." He truthfully responded, pale bottom lip getting caught by the killer's thumb.
The latter looked down to it, stroking the worn skin underneath his thumb with rough delicacy.
The blonde parted his mouth slightly, allowing the pad of Baekhyun's thumb to make contact with the lower row of his pearly teeth, his touch; forever cold.
"Knock knock?" Came a peppy, deep tone from the doorway, sending the transfixed boys metres from each other. Chanyeol cleared his throat loudly, bobbing his head to himself in sheer embarrassment.
"Miss Manoban, correct?" Asked the Doctor, causing the blonde to lift his stare from the ground.
The doctor was incredibly tall, with deep, tan skin and hollow, midnight eyes. He had a messy, copper undercut that was shadowing his forehead, the warm darkness standing stark to his white uniform. An attached clock hung atop his chest pocket, accompanied by a singular, wooden pen. In his hands he clutched a thick board, accented with layers of worded, flapping paper. He looked towards Lisa with an empathetic frown, his sharply defined jaw protruding strongly.
