In that moment, enveloped in the warm embrace of Ji Hoon's presence, Yeong Su felt the relentless ache within him begin to dissipate. Surrendering to the weight of exhaustion that settled like a heavy blanket around him, he finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, finding solace in the safety of Ji Hoon's arms.
Ji Hoon called Min Hyuk to help carry Yeong Su back to his room, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. As Min Hyuk witnessed the tender scene unfold before him, he stood speechless, captivated by the intimacy of the moment. Yet, he dutifully fulfilled Ji Hoon's request, every part of him silently marveling at the bond he was observing. It was Ji Hoon who tucked Yeong Su into his bed, moving with deliberate care, mindful of each step so as not to disturb his restful slumber.
As Ji Hoon's fingers gently slipped away, lingering for a brief moment over Yeong Su's skin, he was met with an unexpected grip. Yeong Su's soft fist clutched the fabric of Ji Hoon's gown, refusing to release him, an unconscious plea for warmth even in sleep. The scene took on a surreal quality, as Ji Hoon and the others tried meticulously to pry the fabric from his grasp, yet Yeong Su's hold only seemed to strengthen in his dreams.
It was the nurse's first time witnessing Yeong Su sleep so peacefully, and she hesitated, not wanting to disrupt this rare serenity. Hearing the agreement from others in the room to keep the silence, Ji Hoon reluctantly surrendered his hopes of freeing himself and chose instead to sit beside Yeong Su, waiting patiently until the sleeping figure released him from his hold.
The atmosphere carried a weight of unspoken understanding, a silent consensus falling over the group as they settled into an stillness, each respecting the moment unfolding before them.
After a while, Yeong-su slowly opens his eyes, rubbing them gently to clear his vision—but it proves unnecessary, as the room is shrouded in darkness, save for a faint glimmer emanating from the corner of his bed. This meager light casts a soft glow, illuminating the presence of Ji-hoon, who is precariously perched on a classic wooden chair, swaying slightly. Papers flutter around him, cascading down with a delicate rustle until Yeong-su spots one in particular—it's his profile, along with those of his fellow members.
A whirlwind of conflict and confusion washes over Yeong-su as he sits back against his pillows. Observing Ji-hoon in his awkward, dozing posture—with one hand propping up his unsteady head and his back slightly hunched, eyes closed and breathing steady—Yeong-su's mind races to piece together the fragmented memories that led to this moment.
As he rides through the hazy memories, the brazen truth he has been desperately avoiding rushes back to him, leaving an ache in his heart. The warmth he felt from Ji-hoon's touch on his forehead adds to the complexity of his emotions, stirring a tumult of feelings within him. Should he mourn the painful truth he has just embraced? Focus on his shattered heart? Grieve the unusual comfort offered by a stranger? Or grapple with the guilt of having dragged someone into his turmoil? The chaos in his mind is palpable, each sentiment fighting for dominance.
Before he can find clarity, Ji-hoon stirs, sensing the rustling beside him. "You woke up? Do you—"
Before Ji-hoon can finish his thought, Yeong-su instinctively kneels forward, bowing deeply in apology. The embarrassment floods through him like a tide, silencing all rational thought.
"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that! You've been through so much because of my idiotic behavior—I'm really, truly embarrassed." His words tumble out, punctuated by hasty breaths, each one tinged with fear. The nurse and hospital staff have abandoned him in solitude, leaving him feeling vulnerable and anxious, especially as Ji-hoon examines the profile of his group.
A wave of dread washes over him at the thought of offending Ji-hoon—this stranger who has dared to get entwined in his misfortunes. Yeong-su doesn't want to take any chances as he frantically continues his string of apologies, the pressure tightening around his already fragile mental state.
Daring not to meet Ji-hoon's gaze, Yeong-su wonders how annoyed he must be, unable to elicit a single word or reaction from him.
Summoning the courage to sneak a glance, he sees Ji-hoon's outstretched hand holding out a glass of water, framed by a gentle smile that radiates kindness, an unspoken invitation to drink.
"How are you feeling?" Ji-hoon asks, his voice soft yet steady.
It has been an eternity since Yeong-su has experienced a solid night's sleep, and the refreshing sensation washes over him, easing the tension in both his mind and body.
"Yes, I'm fine," Yeong Su replied hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper as he accepted the glass. "But I really am sorry. I didn't mean to pull you into this... I shouldn't have—" He trailed off, his apologies spilling forth like a torrent, but was gently interrupted by Ji Hoon's tender caress on his head.
"It's fine," Ji Hoon said softly, his voice calm as he took the glass from Yeong Su's trembling hands and clasped his fingers gently. "It's totally fine." The warmth of Ji Hoon's reassurance enveloped Yeong Su like a comforting embrace, yet the weight of guilt lingered heavily in his chest.
"But I—" Yeong Su began, attempting to voice his concerns.
"Yeong Su, I don't know how much you really know about me, but....I am.... your... fan." Ji Hoon's words poured out with a little hesitation, filling the silence between them.
Before Yeong Su could process what was happening, Ji Hoon continued passionately,
"Before being aware of your existence, I felt as though I were wandering through a vast, empty landscape, lost and adrift in a world that seemed utterly devoid of meaning. My days were like a monochrome film, endlessly looping in dull shades of gray," Ji Hoon spoke calmly, his voice steady yet infused with sincerity, creating an atmosphere of comfort that drew Yeong Su's focus to every word. "Then, like a sudden burst of sunlight, your beautiful voice broke through the haze and splashed vibrant colors across my existence, transforming everything. You ignited a longing within me for the dawn and taught me to cherish the mesmerizing beauty of each sunset. You inspired me to look upward, beyond the horizon, towards the stars that had always twinkled beautifully. You were my sole reason to continue with this unworthy life."
Though Ji Hoon's words held an element of exaggeration, the raw sincerity behind each phrase struck a deep chord within Yeong Su, causing tears to well up in his eyes and dampen his cheeks. The wave of regret crashed over him, reminding him of all the times he'd tried to escape reality, sidestepping the painful truths he couldn't face. Guilt gnawed at him—guilt for the times he'd worried those who loved him, those who cherished him, including fans like Ji Hoon himself.
"You know, Yeong Su," Ji Hoon continued, his voice tinged with desperation but underpinned by unwavering support, "you can cry all you want; you can throw all the tantrums you need. But please, I beg you, don't ever try to run away. Don't take my colors away. It's not that I can't live without them; I simply don't want to. Please?" Ji Hoon's voice trembled as he fought back his own tears, his heartfelt plea echoing in the silence between them.