Eclipsed by You - A Minsung FF

In the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridors of the hospital, everything seemed distant to Han Jisung. The whir of machines, the clicking of nurses' shoes on polished floors, the occasional soft murmur of patients. It all felt like noise—background static in a world that had become painfully monotonous. Since being diagnosed with leukemia, Jisung had spent more time in a hospital room than he cared to admit. Each day, he watched as his health fluctuated, sometimes for the better, but mostly for the worse.

But there was one thing that broke the monotony: Minho.

Lee Minho, the janitor, had first come into Jisung's life when he was assigned to clean the hospital room. Jisung had barely noticed him at first. After all, it was just another hospital worker doing his job. But there was something about Minho that stood out—something different. Maybe it was his calm demeanor, or the way he always made sure to greet Jisung with a friendly smile, no matter how bad the day had been.

It started innocently enough. Minho would come in to clean, always saying a few words to break the silence. But those words, though simple, had a surprising effect on Jisung. It was a small act of kindness, a reminder that he wasn't invisible in a place where people came and went, where it sometimes felt like his presence was nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience to those who had real lives to live outside these walls.

Days turned into weeks, and Jisung started to look forward to Minho's visits. When the door would open, Jisung would glance up from his bed, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of Minho's familiar face. It wasn't just the fact that Minho was good-looking, though that certainly didn't hurt. It was the way Minho would stop what he was doing to make sure Jisung was okay, to ask how he was feeling. The small, tender moments started to build an unspoken connection between them.

"How are you feeling today?" Minho would ask, his voice low and gentle, eyes always meeting Jisung's.

Jisung would shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the pain gnawing at his body. "Same as usual. You know how it is."

Minho would give a soft smile. "I know. But hey, don't give up. You've got this."

Jisung never really believed the words at first, but Minho said them so earnestly that it made him believe, just for a moment, that maybe there was hope.

One afternoon, Jisung sat by the window, his body weak from the latest round of chemotherapy. He watched the world outside—a world he felt more disconnected from with each passing day. Minho walked in, pushing the cleaning cart, but his eyes immediately found Jisung.

"Hey," Minho said quietly, closing the door behind him. "How's the patient today?"

Jisung chuckled, trying to mask the discomfort in his chest. "Patient? That's a bit dramatic."

"Well, I don't know. You look like you've been through a battle," Minho teased lightly, a soft twinkle in his eyes.

Jisung tried to laugh, but it came out as a raspy cough. "Yeah, seems like the battle's been going on forever."

Minho took a step closer, his gaze shifting to the IV drip and the monitors that kept track of Jisung's weakening body. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again. "I don't know how you do it. I mean, I can't even imagine what it's like to go through what you're going through. But you're still here. You're strong."

Jisung's chest tightened at the unexpected kindness in Minho's voice. He didn't want to let it show, didn't want to admit how much the words meant, but he couldn't help the small, grateful smile that tugged at his lips. "You're too kind, Minho."

Minho's gaze softened, his eyes darkening with something Jisung couldn't quite place. "It's the truth. I see how much you fight, how much you endure. And I just... admire that."

Jisung didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't used to being admired, especially not for something like surviving cancer. It felt strange, but it was also the first time in months that he felt a spark of something other than pain. Hope, maybe? Or even just connection?

"I'll leave you to rest," Minho said after a beat, backing toward the door. "But I'll be back tomorrow. You've got a friend here, you know?"

Jisung nodded, surprised by the lump that formed in his throat. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

Minho flashed a quick, warm smile. "Anytime."

The days passed in a blur. Jisung's condition fluctuated, and though he still found it hard to believe in the possibility of his survival, Minho's presence seemed to steady him. The janitor's visits became the highlight of his days. Even when the pain in his chest would make it difficult to breathe, just seeing Minho walk into the room brought him a sense of calm. There was something soothing about him, something comforting that Jisung couldn't quite understand.

One evening, as the sun set outside, Minho stayed longer than usual. He sat by Jisung's bed, casually talking about his day, about the things that kept him busy. But Jisung noticed that there was a subtle shift in the air between them—a charged silence that seemed to hang just beneath the surface of their conversation.

Minho was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the floor. Jisung, sensing a shift, cleared his throat.

"You okay?" Jisung asked.

Minho smiled faintly, though his eyes still carried that distant look. "Yeah, just... thinking."

"About what?"

Minho met his eyes, his expression softening. "About you. And how much you've been through."

Jisung shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where this conversation was heading. But before he could speak, Minho continued.

"I'm not just here because it's my job," Minho said, his voice quieter now, a little more vulnerable. "I've been coming back because... I don't know. I feel like you're different. You matter, Jisung. And I don't want you to feel alone."

Jisung swallowed hard, the lump in his throat returning. He didn't know what to say, but he could feel the sincerity in Minho's words. It wasn't pity. It was something more. Something real.

Before Jisung could respond, Minho stood, offering a small, teasing grin. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Jisung asked, his voice playful, trying to lighten the mood.

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "No," he replied smoothly. "Because I dug a hole from the depths of hell."

Jisung burst out laughing, the sound unexpected but welcome. "That was cheesy," he said between chuckles.

Minho chuckled along, the two of them sharing a brief moment of lightheartedness amidst the heavy silence of the hospital room.

"Stay safe, Jisung. I'll be back tomorrow," Minho said, his voice filled with something softer this time—something deeper.

Jisung smiled faintly, nodding. "I'll be here."

As Minho left, Jisung found himself staring at the door long after it closed behind him, the warmth of their conversation lingering in his chest. Minho wasn't just a janitor, he was... something more. Jisung wasn't sure what it was, but he was starting to realize that Minho had become something essential in his life—someone who made him feel, for the first time in a long while, like he was seen, like he mattered.