Sunoo's POV
He floated somewhere between a dream and a memory.
Everything was soft. Like cotton. Like fog.
Like that time Sunghoon held him after their first big fight and whispered, "I don't care who's wrong or right. I just want you, okay?"
He blinked slowly.
White lights. Beeping sounds. A needle in his arm.
The smell of antiseptic mixed with something familiar.
Cherry shampoo.
His shampoo.
He tried to sit up. His body didn't listen.
But his eyes moved.
And there he was.
Sunghoon.
Asleep, sitting in the hospital chair beside him, head tilted against the wall, face tear-stained, hand still holding Sunoo's limp one like a lifeline.
Sunoo almost forgot how to breathe.
The hospital lights made Sunghoon look softer. Not cold. Not dominant. Just... scared. Vulnerable. Human.
And Sunoo hated it.
Because he loved it.
And he hated himself for still loving him.
His throat felt like sandpaper as he whispered, "You shouldn't be here..."
Sunghoon stirred.
In an instant, he was awake.
And his eyes—God—those eyes were red and puffy and so full of him.
"I'm not leaving," he said hoarsely.
"You should," Sunoo croaked, "You already did."
"Those pictures... they weren't real. She wasn't anything. She was my manager's niece. She needed help for a stupid brand shoot. I—I said yes without thinking. I didn't know they were gonna use that as PR. I didn't cheat. I swear on everything we had."
Sunoo turned his head away.
He was tired. So tired.
Of hoping. Of hurting. Of healing just to get hurt again.
"Do you know what it feels like to starve yourself thinking you weren't enough?"
Sunghoon's face cracked.
"I know what it feels like to lose you and want to die."
Silence.
The only sound was the soft, steady beep beep beep of Sunoo's heart monitor. The same heart that refused to let go of the boy sitting beside him.
Finally, Sunoo whispered, "Then why does it still hurt?"
And Sunghoon answered with the truth, no pride left:
"Because it was real."