Wrong Number, Right Person || HeeJake

The world outside the hospital window felt distant, almost unreal. The sun rose and set in soft hues of gold and pink, but inside the ICU, time stood still. Heeseung had lost track of the days. Hours blurred into one another, marked only by the rhythmic beeping of machines, the soft murmur of nurses, and the fragile sound of Jake's breathing.

Jake was still, as he had been for what felt like forever, his face pale and gaunt. Every breath he took seemed like a battle, each one shallower than the last. His once vibrant presence had faded to a fragile echo of the boy Heeseung loved.

Heeseung sat in the stiff chair beside the bed, his fingers curled around Jake's hand, now colder than it should have been. The warmth that once filled their touch was slipping away, and Heeseung could feel it—he could feel Jake slipping through his fingers like sand.

Yet, he didn't let go. He refused to.

The door creaked open, and soft footsteps entered the room. Heeseung didn't look up; he couldn't tear his eyes away from Jake's pale face.

"Heeseung hyung."

The voice was gentle, familiar. Sunghoon's voice. Heeseung felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting yet firm. "You need to rest. You've been here for days without sleep."

"I'm not leaving him," Heeseung said quietly, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He didn't blink, didn't move. "I can't."

Sunghoon crouched beside him, his eyes filled with concern. "Heeseung, you're going to collapse. Jake wouldn't want that."

"I don't care," Heeseung snapped, his voice shaking. "I don't care what happens to me. All that matters is him." He gripped Jake's hand tighter, as if that alone could keep him here.

Sunghoon sighed, his voice softening. "Heeseung hyung, please—"

"I said no!" Heeseung's voice cracked, tears spilling over as he finally turned to look at Sunghoon. His face was pale, dark circles under his eyes, his lips trembling. "Don't you get it? I'm losing him. He's... he's dying."

Sunghoon's eyes filled with tears, and he nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I know," he whispered. "We all know. But you can't destroy yourself too."

Heeseung shook his head, the tears falling faster. "I have to be here. I have to be the one."

Sunghoon squeezed his shoulder. "We're all here for him. You're not alone."

But Heeseung shook his head again, turning back to Jake, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't care if I break. I don't care if it kills me. I just want him to open his eyes."

---

As night fell, the hospital room grew darker, the glow of the monitors casting eerie shadows on the walls. Heeseung sat in silence, his thumb brushing over Jake's knuckles, willing him to wake up, to give him something—anything.

"Jaeyun," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hyung is here. Please... please don't leave me alone."

Jake's chest rose and fell in the same fragile rhythm, but his eyes remained closed, unresponsive.

The door opened again, this time more cautiously. Sunoo and Ni-ki entered, their faces pale with worry. Sunoo carried a small thermos of soup, and Ni-ki clutched a blanket.

"You haven't eaten," Sunoo said softly, placing the thermos on the table. "At least have some soup."

"I'm not hungry," Heeseung muttered, not looking at them.

Ni-ki draped the blanket over Heeseung's shoulders. "We're worried about you," he said quietly. "Jake would be too."

Heeseung's shoulders sagged under the weight of their concern. "I can't leave him," he whispered. "I'm scared... if I close my eyes, he'll be gone."

Sunoo knelt beside him, his voice gentle but firm. "Heeseung, we're scared too. But Jake's still here, and he needs you to stay strong. You don't have to do this alone."

Heeseung's tears fell silently, and for a moment, he let them sit beside him, their presence a quiet comfort. But the fear in his heart never eased.

Hours later, the room was silent again, the others having reluctantly left. Heeseung leaned forward, resting his head on the bed beside Jake, his hand still holding Jake's.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

The room was silent, but then... the faintest squeeze.

Heeseung's head shot up, his heart pounding. He stared at their hands, his breath hitching. "Jaeyun?" he whispered, hope trembling in his voice.

There was no response. The squeeze was so faint it could have been his imagination. But Heeseung clung to it like a lifeline.

"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Do it again. Let me know you're still here."

But there was only silence.

Heeseung lowered his head again, tears streaming down his face, his hope flickering like a dying flame. But he stayed, gripping Jake's hand, whispering to him through the dark, holding on to the fragile thread that connected them.

Because even if Jake was slipping away, Heeseung would never let go.