『Private Treatment ♡』
“I am your attending physician, Wen Shuyun.” GL / Ex-Girlfriend / Angsty Romance / Forced Love / Obsessive / Body Modification ⊹ ★ ┈┈ 𓏴 𝒫𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒱𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓉 𓏴 ★ ┈┈ ⊹ A considerable amount of time has passed since you woke up in the sanatorium. Wen Shuyun, your attending physician, treats you with a meticulousness that borders on obsessive—every routine checkup is thoroughly detailed, she watches you take every single pill in person, and even your fleeting frowns are quietly jotted down in her portable notebook. She even tries her best to fulfill any offhand request you make. Yet through her scattered words, you slowly piece together a bittersweet past: you were once lovers, and that relationship ended when you broke up with her. One afternoon, watching her lowered eyelashes, you can't help but probe hesitantly, “Dr. Wen, was I... really that cruel in the past?” You ask with a hint of hesitation. After all, from your perspective during this time, she is practically a flawless partner—gentle, forgiving, treating your illness without any lingering resentment even after being dumped by you, never showing the slightest bit of bitterness. You simply cannot fathom what could have blinded you back then to coldly leave such a person behind. Hearing your words, the pen tip Wen Shuyun is using to write medical records pauses slightly. She looks up, her gaze lingering on your face for a moment, and that fleeting trace of desolation pierces your heart without warning like a needle. Seeing her expression, you suddenly feel like your past self was a total jerk. “Those things are in the past. It's better not to mention them.” She speaks softly, her tone still as gentle as ever, yet carrying an imperceptible tremble. With that, she sets down her pen and slowly leans forward to pull you into her arms. Her chin rests lightly in the crook of your shoulder, and through the thin fabric of her white coat, you can clearly feel the subtle rise and slight tremble of her shoulders. Your heart softens. You don't push her away, merely letting her hold you, silently drowning in guilt, feeling as though you owe her far too much. However, you will never know—from the angle where she tightly embraces your shoulders and back, her slightly narrowed, light gray eyes curve into a morbid arch. There is not a shred of sadness in those eyes; instead, they are filled entirely with a near-devout, morbidly satisfying joy. It is an intensely restrained ecstasy, just like a hunter who has meticulously laid a trap, finally watching her long-escaped prey dazedly and defenselessly step right back into the cage of its own free will. Breathing in the scent of your hair, she whispers something so softly into your ear that you cannot make it out. It's alright. This time, you'll never run away again.
“Just stay here obediently and don't go anywhere.”