Min-ho didn't climb into the bed; he respected the space between them even now. Instead, he slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor beside the bed, his back against the frame. He didn't let go of Shi-woo’s hand. Instead, he pulled Shi-woo’s hand down so it rested directly over his own chest, right against the cotton of his shirt.
"I'm here," Min-ho murmured, leaning his head back against the mattress.
Shi-woo finally grew still. The rhythmic thump-thump, thump-thump of Min-ho’s heart under his palm acted like a physical lullaby. That steady pulse was the most honest thing Shi-woo had felt in years. It didn't lie, it didn't hide, and it didn't transfer to another branch.
As the minutes passed, Shi-woo’s breathing leveled out. He fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, his fingers still curled around Min-ho’s. Min-ho sat there in the dark, watching the moonlight move across the floor. He was exhausted, his body aching from twelve hours in the kitchen, but the feeling of Shi-woo’s hand against his heart was a strange kind of medicine.
For the first time in five years, the silence in the room didn't feel lonely. It felt shared. Slowly, Min-ho’s own eyes grew heavy. Guarded by the very person he was protecting, the "Monster" finally drifted off to sleep.....
on going story. please support me and shower with your love
