Traumatic Reaction
Seconds stretched into hours and the overcast night sky was aglow with the radiance of the city's bustling activity. But inside He Juan's hospital room, it was pitch-black as if darkness itself had descended and filled every corner of the space. A dim ray of light spilled in through the gap of the curtain, falling right beside his feet where he sat on the chair beside the bed, his entire body immersed within the shadows – motionless still.
His gaze was fixed on the unconscious man in front of him, tracing over soft lines and curves of his features covered by the oxygen mask before falling to the bandages around his neck, then his pale wrist that was connected with IV drips and heartbeat monitor.
With the monotone beeps filling his ears, He Juan stared at the steady motion of Mu Yuze's chest, almost obsessed, as though it was the only way he could confirm that the omega was still alive and breathing.