Only You (YeonGyu)

Chapter 41: Miracle

He sat there, holding his hand, chest heaving with quiet sobs.

And then—

A faint stir. Fingers twitching beneath his palm.

Beomgyu froze.

Yeonjun's eyes fluttered, then slowly opened, groggy and dazed. His lips barely moved.

“…Beomgyu…?”

Beomgyu gasped, overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Yeonjun blinked slowly, gaze locking on Beomgyu’s tear-streaked face. “You’re… safe…?”

Beomgyu let out a choked laugh. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

A fragile smile curved Yeonjun’s lips. “Good… I’m glad…”

Beomgyu leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against Yeonjun’s.

“Don’t do that again. Don’t ever leave me like that.”

“I won’t,” Yeonjun whispered. “Not unless you want me to.”

“…I don’t,” Beomgyu admitted, his voice breaking.

In that quiet, broken room, filled with pain, regret, and things left unsaid, something warm began to rise. The beginning of healing. Of trust slowly rebuilding.

Of love, persistent, even after everything.

+×+

A Few Days Later

The sun filtered through the window blinds in slats of gold and gray. Yeonjun lay propped up against his pillows, pale but improving. The oxygen tube was gone now, and most of the wires had been removed. A few IV lines still fed into his arm, but he was no longer in danger. The worst had passed.

Beomgyu sat beside him, carefully peeling an apple and cutting it into small slices. He looked far calmer than he had the past few days—his eyes still tired, but softer. The fear was no longer written all over his face.

Yeonjun watched him for a moment, his throat dry. “You’re being too gentle with that apple,” he rasped.

Beomgyu looked up, quirking a brow. “I almost lost you, dumbass. You’re lucky I didn’t come at you with a baseball bat after what you did.”

Yeonjun gave a weak laugh. “You crying over me said otherwise.”

Beomgyu scoffed, placing a slice into a bowl. “Shut up and eat. You need your strength.”

There was a long pause between them, but it wasn’t awkward. The silence was full of meaning, of things slowly stitching themselves back together.

Beomgyu eventually glanced over again, quieter this time. “Soobin came by earlier. He said the police finally confirmed it—Mingyu, Junhui, and Vernon were caught. Fully arrested this time.”

Yeonjun’s body visibly relaxed. “They won’t hurt anyone again?”

“No,” Beomgyu said. “They’re being charged with kidnapping, torture, assault, and a dozen other things. There’s no escaping this time. It’s over.”

Yeonjun’s eyes slid closed, a slow breath of relief leaving his lungs. “Thank god…”

“I saw the look in your eyes when Mingyu came after me,” Beomgyu said, voice low. “You didn’t hesitate.”

Yeonjun met his gaze. “I wasn’t going to let him touch you. Ever again.”

Beomgyu looked away for a moment, lips tight. “You really meant it, huh? That you’ve changed.”

“I meant every word,” Yeonjun said. “I still do.”

Beomgyu reached over and placed the bowl of apples on the bedside table. Then he sat back down and stared at him. “I’m still hurt, Yeonjun. And I still haven’t forgiven you for what happened six years ago. I’m not saying everything’s okay.”

“I know,” Yeonjun said softly. “I’ll wait however long it takes.”

Beomgyu hesitated, then picked up Yeonjun’s hand and laced their fingers slowly together. “But I’m here. I’m willing to try.”

Yeonjun’s eyes watered, but he smiled—this time, full of gratitude and hope. “That’s more than I deserve.”

“No,” Beomgyu whispered. “Not anymore.”

+×+

Days Later

Yeonjun was now able to sit up fully, walk short distances with help, and eat real food again. The color had returned to his face.

Beomgyu came every morning and stayed until evening. He helped Yeonjun stretch his legs, brushed his hair when it got messy, and sometimes read to him just to pass the time. Their bond, once shattered, began to rebuild—not perfectly, not quickly—but with care.

Sometimes they’d laugh.

Sometimes they'd sit in quiet understanding.

Other times, Beomgyu would vent—about the past, about the way Yeonjun made him feel back then. And Yeonjun never argued. He listened, nodded, and took every word as truth, because it was.

But then, in the stillness after those outbursts, Beomgyu stayed. And that was enough.

+×+

One Evening

Beomgyu fluffed Yeonjun’s pillow and tucked the blanket around his legs.

“You’re annoying when you act like a nurse,” Yeonjun said teasingly.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t drop dead again, thanks.”

Yeonjun reached out and caught Beomgyu’s wrist before he could walk away. “Hey.”

Beomgyu looked down.

“I missed you,” Yeonjun said.

Beomgyu’s heart clenched—but he didn’t look away this time.

“I missed you too,” he whispered.

And for the first time in a long, long while—Yeonjun believed that maybe, just maybe, they had a future again.