Taekyun didn't move at first.
His breath felt stuck somewhere between his chest and throat as Haneul clung to him, trembling, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, face pressed into his neck.
He swallowed hard.
"What… are you..."
The words broke.
He couldn't even finish the question.
What are you doing?
Why are you on me?
Instead, what came out barely was,
"Are… you okay?"
Haneul lifted his head just a little.
His eyes were darker than before, pupils blown, tears hanging on his lashes.
His voice came weak, almost fading mid-sentence.
"It… hurts. My stomach hurts. Help me…"
Those words hit him fast. Too fast. Faster than his own heartbeat that suddenly kicked hard in his chest.
Without thinking,
Taekyun tightened his hold, stood up smoothly, and carried him out of the study.
It felt like nothing Haneul's light weight, his thin arms around Taekyun's neck, his legs locked around his waist.
And the way he buried his face back against him as if it was natural.
Taekyun's expression stayed cold, but inside everything was shaking.
What am I doing?
Why am I reacting like this?
He's not my responsibility.
He shouldn't be in my arms.
But.
He walked straight toward Haneul's room, grabbing the hot compress from the kitchen on the way with one hand while holding Haneul with the other.
His grip around Haneul's waist was firm but careful, as if his body moved on its own.
When they reached the room, he slowly lowered Haneul onto the bed.
His heart didn't slow down at all.
The moment Haneul's back touched the sheets, he curled up in pain, hands gripping his stomach tightly.
His breathing was uneven, tears sliding silently across his temples.
Taekyun stood there stiffly, mind in conflict.
Leave.
This isn't your place.
Walk out.
You don't take care of people anymore.
But the tiny voice that cracked through the pain....
"Taekyun.... sir"
Made him freeze.
Haneul kept calling it, barely audible, like his body was searching for something familiar, something safe.
His hand kept reaching out blindly, grabbing Taekyun's wrist, then losing it, then grabbing again.
Taekyun's jaw tightened. His throat felt dry.
He shouldn't touch him.
He shouldn't help him.
He shouldn't care.
But the pain on Haneul's face…
He couldn't ignore it.
He finally moved. Slowly. Almost awkwardly.
He placed the hot compress on Haneul's stomach without letting their skin touch.
But Haneul squirmed, tears spilling again, and his hand hit Taekyun's leg weakly as he tried to hold something anything.
Taekyun's heart jumped once, sharply.
This isn't Harin.
This isn't the past.
This is different.
Yet his hands moved like muscle memory.
He lifted the compress with one hand and, with the other, hesitated before placing it gently on Haneul's lower belly.
His palm almost engulfed the area, his hand nearly the size of Haneul's waist.
He began massaging slowly, the same steady motion he used long ago when Haru cried from stomach pains.
A rhythm he thought he had forgotten.
Each touch made Haneul relax little by little.
His breathing eased.
His trembling softened.
His fingers clung to Taekyun's wrist, holding it against his stomach as if afraid it would disappear.
Taekyun looked down once.
Only once.
And that alone made his heart beat painfully fast.
Stop it.
You shouldn't be here.
You shouldn't feel anything.
But he stayed.
A minute later, remembering what he should be doing, he pulled out his phone and dialed with a cold tone returning to his voice.
"Let the doctor in. Now."
"Yes, sir," security replied immediately.
Soon the doctor entered,
Taekyun stepped back, expression unreadable, though his hand hovered for a second almost as if he didn't want to leave Haneul alone.
The doctor checked Haneul thoroughly.
"It's a reaction to the medicine he took,"
The doctor explained.
"His stomach lining is sensitive. I'll give an injection to calm the pain. I'll also change his prescription he shouldn't take the previous one again."
Taekyun only nodded, silent.
After the injection, Haneul finally relaxed completely, eyes fluttering shut, breathing soft and even.
The doctor left. Security returned to their positions.
The room became quiet.
Taekyun stood there for a moment, staring at the faint redness around Haneul's eyes and the way he curled slightly in sleep, small, fragile, unaware of anything that just happened.
He inhaled once, sharply, as if grounding himself.
Then he turned off the lights except for the small lamp, adjusted the blanket over Haneul, and walked out.
In the kitchen,
He cleaned the bowl, spoon, and counters. Not because anyone would scold him.
Because he didn't want anyone to know what happened.
He didn't want anyone to know he had helped someone… again.
He didn't fear people finding out.
He feared himself.
And the part of him that had softened tonight
for someone who wasn't supposed to matter.