Chapter Text
It was a bleak, rainy day. People dashed around, seeking shelter, trying desperately not to be soaked by the relentless drops, buffeted by the biting wind.
But he… he walked slowly through the rain, tilting his face skyward, letting the heavy drops sting his eyes. Each droplet that touched him reminded him of the weight he carried—the overwhelming flood of emotions in his chest, all reserved for one person alone. The rain fell like the weight of his own heart, pressing down on him, heavy and relentless.
He quickly lowered his head and didn’t care. He walked as if he were a soul without a body, oblivious to the faces that brushed past him, oblivious to the sounds around him.
The rain fell hard and cold, mercilessly drenching his shoulders and head.
listened to the ringing of his phone. After a few hesitant seconds, he answered, voice tight with reluctance, “What?”
He didn’t even bother to check who was calling.
Then he heard his cousin’s voice in his ear: “It’s raining. Aren’t you coming back? You didn’t even take your umbrella.”
Hao murmured softly, pausing for a moment before adding hesitantly, “I… I need to talk to Hanbin first, so…”
Ricky nodded in understanding, realizing that any argument would be useless. He spoke quietly, trying to ease the worry: “Just…don’t stay out in the rain for too long. You’ll get sick.”
Hao murmured in agreement, then slowly hung up, letting out a deep sigh before slipping his phone into the pocket of his soaked pants, ignoring the rain that drenched him.
He quickened his pace toward the shared home—Hanbin’s house, really—where they had spent most of their time together.
When he arrived, he paused for a moment, catching his breath, heavy with cold and exhaustion. Then he placed his hand on the smart door device—the one Hanbin had trusted and registered his fingerprint on ever since they had begun living together, more or less—and quietly opened the door.
When he stepped inside, Hanbin met Hao’s eyes—but they were empty, heavy with all the words left unspoken, words his heart had held onto for years, speaking in place of his stammering mouth. Every feeling, every pain, every hidden love, screamed silently through his gaze.
Hanbin noticed him and said in a strangely calm voice, “Why are you soaked like this? Did you walk in the rain again?”
He sighed, helpless, before replying,
“I’ll get you a towel…”
Hao stopped him abruptly, his voice heavy with frustration and the restrained tears that refused to fall. Every word seemed on the verge of breaking between his lips. “Why are you acting like nothing ever happened between us? I don’t want your towel…I want to talk to you, Hanbin…We need to talk…we really need to talk.”
Hanbin exhaled slowly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “Talk? In these soaked clothes? Go to the bathroom first, and don’t argue… only then can we talk.”
Hanbin’s insistence was clear—and he was right. Hao couldn’t stay like this, soaked from head to toe, cold raindrops dripping from his hair, his body shivering as the chill from the rain seeped into his skin.
He surrendered silently, making his way to the bathroom in their shared room, where he showered and put on the clothes he had laid out for himself.
When he finished, he dried his hair, his body still trembling slightly from the cold. Then he stepped out and sat in the living room, where Hanbin was already seated, silent, waiting.
Silence filled the living room, heavy as if pressing down on their chests, choking the space between them before words could find their way out.
Every sentence seemed to break in their throats before it could escape, caught between fear, confusion, and the desperate need to understand.
Neither of them knew how to breach that barrier, how to put into words what was happening in their hearts, or how to reach the other amidst all this pain.
“You…what you said to me on the phone…were you serious? Do you really want to end everything?” Hao asked, his voice trembling, weighed down with hesitation and worry.
He wasn’t brave enough to hear Hanbin’s answer—fear gripped every cell in his body—but still, he gathered the last of his strength to face the truth.
Hanbin spoke, his eyes fixed on his fingers, his voice calm. “We’ve already talked about this…do we need to go over it again? Is that why you’re here?”
Hao murmured, trying to gather his scattered thoughts: “We talked on the phone, not in person! That wasn’t a solution!! It’s cowardly to talk over the phone! I just…I can’t comprehend what you’re saying… I wanted to hear it from you…We were fine, I mean, we were really fine…and suddenly you want to break up, and I don’t even know why…you didn’t tell me your reasons…you came to me out of nowhere, so randomly, asking to end what we had—how do you expect me to respond? Oh, yes, of course, let’s just break up??? Is that what you wanted to hear?? This is nonsense.”
Hanbin avoided looking at him, his eyes fixed on the carpeted floor, stirring memories… He remembered how they had chosen it together, he and Hao, when Hao first moved in with him in this house.
Although Hao had to return later to his cousin’s house, since his workplace was closer, he still spent many nights here whenever he got the chance.
Hanbin didn’t say anything, and Hao let out an exasperated sigh, his voice trembling slightly as he shouted, “Why aren’t you saying anything, Hanbin?!”
Hanbin murmured for a moment, letting the heavy silence settle in the room, before finally speaking, his voice calm and detached: “I’m going to get married.”
Everything around Hao froze, and he felt his limbs losing the warmth they had just regained, stiffening from shock and disbelief. He couldn’t form a single word, as if the entire world had stopped spinning. He looked at Hanbin with eyes full of betrayal and heartbreak, and just one word—one—was enough to shatter his entire world, to break everything his heart had built over all those years.
Silence fell over the room once again for a few seconds, until a sharp laugh escaped Hao, unaware of what was happening, as if his mind refused to believe reality. Then, his voice trembling as he tried to deny what he had heard, he said: “You…what? Say that again? I think I heard it wrong…Stop joking like this, Hanbin, and tell me the real reason.”
He couldn’t believe what he had heard, unable to accept Hanbin’s words—especially after all the promises, after every moment they had both said they would stay together forever… And now here he was, breaking that promise, leaving his heart in pieces without any explanation.
How could he let Hanbin touch anyone other than him? Kiss them, hold them, do all the things they had done together? His mind still refused to comprehend it, as if some cruel joke had been thrown over him, heavy and unrelenting.
“Do I look like I’m joking? Do I look like I’m lying to you? I’m getting married… and that’s why I want to break up. This is the truth.”
This time, Hanbin repeated it without any hesitation, his voice firm and decisive, as if cutting through everything between them with no chance of turning back—turning doubt into certainty.
Hao erupted, his voice rising with disbelief and anger: “How can you do this to me??? I don’t understand…What is this nonsense you’re saying, Hanbin? You don’t mean it…of course you don’t…Have you even heard yourself? This is pure nonsense!”
His heart tightened, plunging into his stomach with panic. Every word felt like a knife to his chest, every syllable carving an indelible scar deep within him.
Hao tried to deny it, but he knew Hanbin too well…those expressions…the way he avoided looking at him, the careless demeanor…He wasn’t joking, and there was no room for doubt.
Hanbin finally looked at him, after avoiding his gaze for so long, and said in a calm voice, “Zhang hao… I’m serious.”
Hao looked at him, seething, his heart breaking from the inside.“Now… you’ve stopped calling me Hao? Hanbin…are you really…serious? Did I do something wrong to make you leave me like this? Hanbin, what’s between us isn’t just a day or two—we’re talking about five years!”
Hanbin nodded without a hint of hesitation, looking at him with eyes serious and merciless.“I’m going to get married…to the daughter of a friend of my father, and it’s already decided. It’s not that you did anything wrong—I just have my own reasons.”
Hao trembled from the shock, his voice breaking as he tried to process everything. “But… you love me… don’t you? Were you cheating on me? Were you seeing her behind my back?… And what are these ‘own reasons’ of yours!”
Hanbin exhaled slowly, trying not to lose his temper. “Hao…don’t start with these ridiculous assumptions. The marriage has actually been arranged for some time already.”
Hao rose from his seat, suddenly feeling as if his legs could no longer hold him, as if the ground itself were rejecting him. He sank back onto the couch, struggling to regain control of himself, his voice breaking: “And you didn’t tell me?”
Hanbin wiped his face with his hand, anger lacing his reaction. “Why should I tell you?!”
Hao shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and pain, erupting from the depths of his heart: “Because what’s yours is my business!! You were dating me, and you hid this from me… and it doesn’t seem like you ever intended to tell me even if I hadn’t come to you! Do you only think of yourself? Why are you acting so selfishly, so unlike you?! What about me? What about me, Hanbin? What about the five years we spent together! The memories we made, both sweet and bitter… How could you say this to my face like this? How could you betray me like this? Not after I loved you this way…not after I got attached to you!”
His voice pierced the silence, filling the room, each word like a knife thrust directly into his heart. Every feeling—love, betrayal, and pain intertwined—made everything around him crumble.
Silence hung heavy for a few long seconds, then Hanbin spoke in a cold, flat voice: “I have nothing to say…We’re finished. That’s enough, alright?”
He added after a moment, as if declaring the inevitable end of everything: “I’m going to leave this house and stay at my family’s place for a while… so gather your things and move them to your cousin’s house, because I’ll be coming back here with my wife to live—and—”
His voice was steady, unshakable, like a wall of ice between them, each word a sword piercing Hao’s heart, leaving him paralyzed, unable to speak or move, fully aware that the world he had built with Hanbin was unraveling before his eyes.
Everything they had done together in this house, everything they had shared and built, would now belong to someone else—and that was utterly unacceptable.
Hanbin fell silent, the air in the room growing even more suffocating, and he didn’t continue when he heard Hao’s gasp slip through his lips. It wasn’t in his nature to let Hao’s tears fall, but this time… he was the one who made him cry. He was the one who had caused it.
He looked at Hao, his face flushed and swollen from crying, his eyes brimming with tears, his voice breaking and torn from the intensity of his pain, struggling not to sob aloud as he choked out: “Enough!! Enough… fuck, that’s enough!! How could you let yourself hurt me… how could you… oh God…”
Hao gasped violently, unable to form words anymore. The lump in his throat burned with every sob, and tears streamed down his face like a river, as if his heart were tearing itself apart from the inside. His lips trembled uncontrollably, quivering with each ragged breath, and his shoulders shook with the force of his grief.
He turned his head away from Hanbin, refusing to show weakness in front of him—but what could he do? The love of his life was leaving him like this… or rather, it was Hanbin who was abandoning him.
Hanbin just stared, his voice cold and detached: “That’s enough… just do as I told you. We’ll break up, and we’ll end this here and now.”
Hao gasped again, wailing loudly, standing powerless, his legs trembling beneath him. He stepped closer to Hanbin, who instinctively took two steps back, and Hao froze in place, unable to move—but he raised his trembling voice:
“You’re so cruel!! Hanbin… please… I can’t live without you. Why, all of a sudden, like this? I don’t understand… Do you love her? Are you seeing her? And what about me? What about me? Were you lying to me? Did you… did you never love me? Was it all… fake? Why won’t you answer me if you’re not cheating? Why!! Hanbin… please…”
His words poured out like a storm, full of love, fear, and despair. He was tearing himself apart, terrified of what was to come… while Hanbin stood before him in silence, an immovable barrier he could not cross.
Hanbin didn’t look at him, struggling to keep his tears from falling, trying to show strength amid the emotional chaos raging inside him.
Hao stepped closer, his heart pounding violently, his legs trembling from the intensity of his emotions. Taking advantage of Hanbin’s momentary distraction by the wall, Hao grabbed his arm with his shaking hand, pressing gently, while his other hand went to Hanbin’s jaw, turning his face toward him with force. His voice quivered with tears, anger, and tangled love:
“Look at me…look me in the eyes,and say it—if you truly mean it—because your eyes are telling me otherwise."
Their breaths mingled as Hao stood close—too close—his face just inches from Hanbin’s, staring straight into his eyes with raw, unflinching boldness. Every part of him was pleading for the truth. His gaze searched deep within Hanbin, silently begging for an honest answer amidst all the silence and ice between them.
Hanbin turned his face away, but this time, he didn’t pull back. His eyes were glazed with unshed tears, clinging to his lashes, betraying a fragility he never wanted to show. It made him seem more human—more breakable—but Hao couldn’t hold back his unease. His brows knit tightly, the weight of heartbreak settling deep in his chest.
To him, Hanbin looked like someone being forced into this, pretending he wanted to leave—and that only made it worse. His actions didn’t match his words, and the contradiction was tearing Hao apart even more.
After taking a deep breath and pulling himself back together, Hanbin turned to him, steady and resolute, and said:“I mean it, Zhang Hao… let’s break up. I really do want to end this… I want to get married, have children, settle down. I can’t have any of that with you.”
Hao looked at him, anguish written all over his face, a horrible feeling twisting inside him as those words struck like an arrow. “What’s stopping us from being happy? We can… we can adopt children! We can settle down, and—”
Hao froze abruptly, the words leaving Hanbin’s mouth striking straight into his heart, leaving him unable to respond.
Hanbin’s voice rose, his face tight with pressure, anger, and pain all tangled together: “Happiness? What happiness are you talking about? We can’t! No one will ever accept us in this kind of society! Just stop… it’s disgusting! I want to move forward in my career, but I can’t—because having you by my side makes people reject me, look at me with disgust… I want to do so much with my life, but I can’t because of you, because everyone looks down on me… I can’t be with you anymore. I’ve thought about this… a lot. Too much, Zhang Hao… far too much.”
His words were laced with bitterness and sorrow, painfully honest. They weren’t just cold words, but a confession of a reality forced upon him—a quiet war between love and the need to survive in a world that showed no mercy.
Everything hurt—every word from Hanbin burning through him like a candle devouring itself in its own flame. Hao grabbed Hanbin by the collar, pulling him closer until the distance between them vanished, their bodies pressed together. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Was I the only one who was happy in this relationship? Were you forcing yourself to stay with me? Were you really lying to me? Were you disgusted by me? Have you forgotten yourself? You’re… like me, Hanbin… you loved me too, and I loved you! Don’t act like we never fell in love! Don’t act like what we had was just some obstacle in your life!!”
His voice shook, tears streaming endlessly, the truths in his words tangled with anger and sorrow as his hand slid down from gripping Hanbin’s collar.
“Disgusted?! We went through this—five whole years… and after all that, you come to me now and say something like this to my face? As if… I’m pathetic… as if I’m disgusting?!”
He rested his forehead on Hanbin’s shoulder, staying there for a long moment, before his anger began to surge. Hao could no longer bear the sudden weight that had crashed onto his heart. He couldn’t contain the pain any longer. Pulling back slightly, he struck Hanbin’s chest with trembling fists a few times, each hit forcing Hanbin’s back against the wall behind him. They weren’t strong blows—but enough to make him wobble on his feet.
He screamed, his voice thick with grief and fury: “fuck you! Don’t act like we never meant anything! Don’t treat me like this, Hanbin! You’re hurting me… you… you’re tearing me apart… this shouldn’t be happening! You… you… you’re just cruel in a way I’ve never known! You’re lying, I see it in your eyes—so tell me you love me and stop all of this, now!”
His voice trembled with sobs, each word gnawing deeper into his heart, every shiver of his body reflecting the sheer devastation and shock he felt. Everything around him seemed to collapse, and nothing remained to shield his heart except his desperate cry, fading into the merciless silence between them.
Hanbin exhaled slowly, then pulled Hao’s hand away and stepped back, facing the harsh truth. “Enough… this ends here. Will you keep repeating the same words? I’ve told you, I’m going to live my life from now on… this is goodbye.”
He continued in a dry voice, betraying no emotion: “I’m leaving now. Don’t hope. I’ll be back in five days, with my bride… so gather all your things, leaving no trace of her behind.”
Hanbin turned toward the door, pausing for a moment before stepping out. But when he glanced back, regret struck him. He saw Hao on the floor, utterly spent, struggling to catch his breath.
Hao sat crouched on the floor, knees pulled tightly to his chest, his head buried between them. His sobs escaped in low, painful gasps—a mixture of exhaustion, deep sorrow, and a heartbreak he had never experienced within himself…Every part of him screamed in agony, each breath feeling as though he were crumbling further and further right before Hanbin’s eyes.
Hanbin paused for a moment, casting one last look at Hao with eyes tangled in emotion. Then he turned, giving his back, and slowly closed the door behind him.
In that moment, Hao exploded into loud sobs, his cries filling the entire house. Grief and heartbreak poured from his chest as he collapsed completely, like a building crumbling in the blink of an eye. Hanbin heard him through the closed door and leaned against it for a few seconds, as if taking in the weight of the pain he had left behind, before finally walking away to his car.
He sat inside, his head resting on the steering wheel for a brief moment, feeling his mind completely blank.
Then he started the car and drove off quickly, gripping his phone with a trembling hand. His voice, heavy with everything he felt, wavered as he called Gyuvin. “Hello…Hyung!”
Hanbin sighed. “Come get Hao from my house. He walked here, and it’s late… well, things between us aren’t good. We just broke up, so…”
Gyuvin froze, stunned. “Excuse me? You broke up? What??”
Hanbin exhaled again. “It’s a long story, Gyuvin. I’m sorry for hanging up… come with Ricky to calm things down a little.”
He ended the call and continued on his way.
At Ricky and Gyuvin’s house, Ricky turned to him, curiosity and worry written across his face after he ended the call. He asked quickly, “Gyuvin… what happened? Who broke up with whom? What’s going on?”
Gyuvin exhaled, worry etched across his features. Wasting no time, he quickly grabbed his car keys from the table and, his voice tight with urgency, said, “Hanbin Hyung… and Hao Hyung. Let’s go now… I don’t think Hao Hyung is okay—he’s definitely not okay.”
Ricky frowned with worry as soon as he heard, feeling a sharp pang in his chest, as if something heavy had suddenly lodged inside him. He followed Gyuvin quickly, climbing into the car and sitting in the passenger seat, leaving him to drive.
Ricky spoke in a strained voice, still trying to process it. “How… did they break up? It doesn’t make sense… I know their relationship hasn’t been stable lately, and yet they seemed fine… but…”
Gyuvin reached out calmly, taking Ricky’s hand and squeezing it gently, trying to soothe him. “I don’t know exactly what happened… but he’ll be okay.”
Ricky wanted to believe that his cousin would be okay—he truly did—but he knew just how deeply Hao was attached to Hanbin. His frown deepened, and his voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and pain: “How could he be okay… when he loves him more than himself, Gyuvin?… I’m really worried about him.”
“It’s okay,” Gyuvin reassured him quickly, still holding Ricky’s hand, trying to calm him down. After all, they both knew just how deeply Hao loved Hanbin… and how many sacrifices he had made to be with him.
Only ten minutes had passed, as Hanbin’s house wasn’t far from their place. As soon as they arrived, Ricky jumped out without waiting, Gyuvin right behind him, stepping out immediately after closing the car door
Even before they reached the door, they heard loud sobs escaping from inside… a sound filled with pain, enough on its own to send shivers of fear through their hearts. They exchanged worried glances, as if in that moment they fully realized the weight of what had happened.
Ricky shoved the door open and stepped inside without hesitation, only to find Hao in a state he had never seen before…
He was crouched on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, his body trembling violently. His sobs tore out in ragged gasps, as if everything inside him had collapsed at once—like a collapse so complete, nothing would ever rebuild it for years.
“Hao… damn, what happened between you two to make you break down like this?”
It was the first thing Ricky blurted out as he crouched in front of him.
But Hao shrank even further, burying his face between his knees as if trying to hide from the entire world. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this… so fragile, so broken, a side of him he had never shown to anyone.
Ricky moved closer, his voice softening with clear tenderness.“I’m here… Gyuvin’s here… we’re here for you. It’s okay…”
But those words, instead of soothing him, shattered the last remnants of his composure.
Hao erupted into even louder sobs, his cries rising, his body trembling violently, more and more with each shudder.
Gyuvin also hurried over, sitting down beside him and gently patting his shoulder, trying to calm him. His voice was low, laced with worry: “Hyung… please, calm down…”
But there was no calm… only a heart breaking, and sobs that filled the room.
Gyuvin and Ricky exchanged a quick glance, then Gyuvin took the step, moving closer and enveloping him despite his curled-up posture. He held him tightly in his arms, as if trying to gather the shattered pieces of him. He patted his back and stroked him gently, trying to soothe him, while Hao’s sobs continued to escape in broken, painful gasps.
After a few moments, Hao bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his cries, then slowly lifted his head…
Gyuvin and Ricky were both taken aback at the sight before them.
His face was flushed deeply, red from crying, his eyes swollen and puffy, the redness harsh, as if scorched by the relentless tears. His lashes were wet and clinging together, tears still streaking down his cheeks, flowing swiftly without pause.
His lips trembled, pale from biting them so hard, wet with his tears, as if they had lost the ability to speak. His breaths came in broken, uneven gasps, each inhale stabbing at his chest, tightening it with every shudder.
“I… I want to get out of here…”
His words stumbled out, choked by the lump in his throat, barely making it past his lips.
Gyuvin nodded quickly and said to Ricky, his voice firm: “Help me get him up.”
They grabbed him by the sides, but Hao’s body was utterly spent, completely limp, all his strength drained. They lifted him into the car, his head swaying lightly from the dizziness, his breaths uneven and ragged.
As soon as they seated him, lethargy washed over him, and his body slumped into the car seat, as if his consciousness were slowly slipping away.
Ricky’s voice was thick with worry:
“Are you okay? Look at me… please, tell me how you feel… you’re worrying me.”
But Hao didn’t answer.
This time, his tears fell silently, in a quiet, painful hush, without a sound—so even crying had drained him. He closed his eyes slowly, surrendering to the weight pressing down on his body and heart.
Ricky quickly looked up at Gyuvin, who was standing outside the car, visibly worried— “Gyuvin! Get some water, quickly!”
Gyuvin ran inside, while Ricky stayed by Hao’s side, undoing the top button of his shirt to help him breathe. His voice was thick with worry: “Can you hear me? Please… talk to me. Can you?”
But Hao didn’t seem fully present…
His body was there, but his mind was elsewhere, as if everything inside him had suddenly withdrawn. His eyes fluttered half-open, drifting without focus, as if searching for a single face… and not finding it.
This time, the betrayal didn’t erupt as a scream…It came as a heavy void.
As if something inside him had suddenly gone out, without warning. As if the engine that had once pulsed with life had stalled.
His breaths were still uneven, short, and ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly but without any real strength. His hands were cold, limp, unable to grasp anything—he no longer had the energy to hold on.
His tears kept falling…slower now, burning more, as if it was no longer a choice, but something that simply happened on its own.
His lips moved slowly, his words barely audible, as if coming from somewhere far away:“I…I…want…Hanbin…”
Gyuvin arrived quickly after that, carrying the water. He leaned in from the other side, his voice trembling: “Hyung…drink some water.”
Ricky helped him, gently lifting his head, but Hao didn’t respond normally…
He drank slowly, unevenly, water occasionally spilling from the corners of his mouth, his breaths mingling with every sip, as if even this simple act had become exhausting for him.
And his tears… didn’t stop.
Not for a moment.
Gyuvin hurried out of the car, slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and turned on the AC. His worry mounting, he asked, “Should we take him to the hospital?”
Hao shook his head weakly, so slowly, as if he couldn’t even process the question…Just a refusal… without any real awareness.
Ricky murmured softly, looking at him helplessly: “Let’s go home…”
Gyuvin nodded and drove off, while Ricky stayed in the back, holding Hao, supporting him, afraid he might crumble even more in his arms.
And Hao…was still there.
But not fully.
The road was filled with a deadly quiet, the kind of silence that presses on your chest and makes everything feel heavier than usual
Hao cried in silence, unable to stop. Occasionally, small sobs escaped him, uneven, as if his entire body were on the verge of collapsing under the weight of what he felt.
Ricky didn’t take his eyes off his cousin for a single moment. Every second, he soothed him with his voice and his touch, making sure he stayed supported, terrified that he might slip away from him suddenly.
They stayed like that for the entire ride, between Hao’s tears and the silence of the car, broken only by the hum of the engine, until they finally arrived.
Hao squeezed his eyes shut, as if he didn’t want to see anything anymore, yet he sent a silent message to Ricky of complete surrender… he had lost consciousness entirely.
Ricky’s voice trembled with panic:“Gyuvin!”
Gyuvin quickly unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed out of the car, moving with urgent steps. “Put him on my back, Ricky!”
Ricky nodded quickly, gently lifting Hao and placing him on Gyuvin’s back, leaning against him, feeling just how frail and weak Hao had become.
They rushed Hao into the house, gently placing him on the couch in the living room, his entire body swaying, drained of all strength.
Gyuvin ran to the kitchen, grabbed some water, and hurried back. Gently, he spritzed a little cold water on his face to wake him, then lightly touched his cheek, giving him a slight shake.
“Hao? Hao… can you hear me?”
Hao let out a faint sigh, a small movement enough for both of them to feel some relief, as if his mere presence—even in these tiny signs—had given them hope that he was still there with them.
Ricky looked at Gyuvin, his tone serious but reassuring:“I’ll get his room ready and turn on the AC… will you be able to bring him upstairs by yourself?”
Gyuvin nodded quickly.
“Yes… don’t worry.”
When Gyuvin looked at Hao this time, his breathing was slightly more steady, though a few tears still streamed down his face. He seemed to have fallen asleep, so Gyuvin didn’t wake him—afraid he might faint again. But when Hao stirred slightly, his heart eased a little.