𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑻

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─ · · ୨୧ · · ─

"I'll be fine, Yuta," Taeyong says softly, grimacing at the tight grip Yuta has around his hand. His fingers grasp Taeyong's hand tightly, crushing the fine bones under his skin. Yuta frowns, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly brushing his thumb across Taeyong's knuckles.

"I'm just worried, is that so wrong?" He asks, staring at their hands. Taeyong shakes his head, trying to tug his hand away again.

"Yuta, you're crushing my hand," he says, "soon I'll have more than just crushed ribs if you keep this up." Yuta flinches, letting go of his hand. Taeyong massages his sore hand, sighing softly in relief. "I get that you're worried, Yuta, but I was here last night, too."

Yuta looks at his best friend, his gaze soft. "But I was here with you last night." He then looks away yet again, staring at his hands on his lap. His gaze fixates on the hand that had just held Taeyong's, his cheeks dusting in soft pink. "I don't want to leave you alone again."

"Yuta, I get it, I do. But you need sleep and you sleeping on a chair isn't good for you." Taeyong says quietly. "Also, the nurses were nice enough to let you stay last night. They won't let you stay again..."

Taeyong winces at the hurt look that crosses Yuta's features, his eyes widening. He blinks a few times, and Taeyong can see his lower lids glistening with tears.

"Yuta...please don't cry, I'll be fine." Taeyong whispers, reaching over to Yuta with his hand. His fingertips brush Yuta's arm, but he flinches away.

He stands from the bed, facing away from Taeyong. "I'll leave now. Sleep well." Yuta murmurs, voice cracking. Taeyong calls his name again, but he ignores him, softly shutting the door behind him as he leaves.

Taeyong groans loudly, leaning back against the head of the bed. Taeyong was alone now, and he didn't like it. He curls up into a ball, burying his face in his knees, ignoring the agony in his ribs.

Yuta...I'm sorry...

─ · · ୨୧ · · ─

The moonlight caresses Taeyong's skin, illuminating his peaceful sleeping face. A shadow looms over his body, a hand resting on the bed beside his face. Rough, calloused fingertips stroke the soft skin of Taeyong's cheek, dark eyes drinking in the way the boy's features twitch, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Dark eyes rake down Taeyong's surreal face, glowing in the white light of the moon. Skin as soft as silk, unfortunately littered with scratches and bruises, stretched over delicate, high cheek bones with petal-pink lips, long black eyelashes casting aerial shadows as they brush against his cheeks—yes, serene was the right word for him.

"A truly serene human," a low voice whispers, ghosting their fingers down Taeyong's diamond-cut jaw, trailing them along his thin-columned neck, small sparks of electricity pricking from their fingertips, sending small shocks through the boy's body. The sleeping boy shuffles in his sleep, small noises of distress leaving his lips.

The soft sounds slowly morph into loud whimpers, making the figure on top of him freeze. Taeyong sobs, his hands finding their way to his face. He begins to scream, startling the figure.

"Shit," they hiss, and Taeyong's eyes snap open with a heart-wrenching scream.

─ · · ୨୧ · · ─

Taeyong bolts upright, a scream tearing from his throat. His ribs screech in agony, tears pouring down his cheeks. The door slams open, and a male nurse rushes in to his bedside, the room illuminating in yellow artificial light.

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