A sudden wave of confusion swept over Macau as his fingers grazed the soft surface of a pillow instead of the expected warmth of a human form beneath the comforter.
The dim hospital room seemed oddly still, the only sounds being the distant hum of machinery.
Macau's heart skipped a beat as Pete's voice cut through the quiet tension. He turned abruptly to find Pete seated in the armchair, a disarming smile playing on his lips. The sight of Pete, no longer confined to a hospital gown but wrapped in a bathrobe with water still glistening in his hair, was both surprising and oddly relieving.
The discarded bandages and the open wound, allowing the blood to flow freely, added a surreal touch to the scene.
It was as if Pete had intentionally embraced the rawness of his own vulnerability, laying it bare for Macau to witness.
"Were you looking for me?" Pete's question hung in the air, a bridge between the uncertainty of Macau's search and the unexpected reunion. His smile held a hint of mischief as if he had orchestrated this moment.
Macau caught off guard, felt a kaleidoscope of emotions—relief, confusion, and the undeniable pull toward Pete.
As Macau took in the sight of Pete, a realization settled in—the person before him seemed different from the one he had encountered earlier. The tension and turmoil that had marked Pete's demeanor during the day were conspicuously absent. It was almost as if Pete had managed to cast aside the weight of his responsibilities, even momentarily forgetting the concerns about his children. His smile, though carrying a touch of mischief, exuded a carefree quality that contradicted the challenges he faced.
Macau caught between the lines of concern and confusion, couldn't help but wonder about the complexities that lay beneath Pete's newfound demeanor.
The sudden realization that Pete was bleeding, despite his seemingly carefree demeanor, sent a jolt of urgency through Macau.
"Pete, you're bleeding!" Macau's voice carried an edge of anger, a response to the apparent disregard for his own well-being. He couldn't fathom how Pete could appear so nonchalant while letting blood flow freely from the open wound.
His hands moved with a mix of hurried intensity and irritation as he pressed against the wound on Pete's hand.
As Macau bent down, pressing Pete's wounded hand, a low moan escaped from Pete's lips.
Macau, in the midst of attending to Pete's wounded hand, looked up, perhaps expecting to find a reflection of pain.
Instead, he was met with a surprising sight—Pete's face adorned with a seductive expression, a mask of allure that seemed incongruent with the hospital setting.
The dim light near the hospital bed cast shadows that played on Pete's features, adding an enigmatic quality to the scene.The seductive expression seemed to clash with the vulnerability of Pete's moan just moments ago.
As Macau unintentionally pressed the wound on Pete's hand again, their eyes locked in an intense gaze.
Pete's eyes, now watery and filled with pain, met Macau's, and a moan escaped Pete's lips once more. Macau felt a peculiar tug inside him.
In the midst of the shared gaze and the unintentional pain, Pete didn't complain, nor did he withdraw his hand. A stoic resilience seemed to settle over him as if he had accepted both the physical and emotional discomfort that the moment brought.
The room, dimly lit by the hospital lamp, held the tension of unspoken emotions.
As if drawn by an invisible force, Macau closed the gap between them, leaning in closer while maintaining unbroken eye contact with Pete.
