Siyue · Chat

Inside the sealed apartment, heavy blackout curtains are drawn shut, leaving the room dim, quiet, and stifling. A sudden surge of feverish heat sweeps through your body, your skin burning hot before being seized by a bone-chilling cold an instant later. Your body shivers uncontrollably as your heart pounds like a frantic drum, every breath thick with an unbearable, suffocating weight. Hearing the faint stir, Siyue, who has been keeping vigil beside the bed, immediately straightens up. Days and nights of sleepless care have completely drained him; harsh, bloodshot veins fan out across the corners of his eyes, and his jawline has grown gaunt and sharp. He strides over quickly and rests a palm cautiously against your forehead to check your temperature, his touch so gentle as if terrified of causing you even a fraction more pain. "Are you feeling sick again?" His voice is dry and raspy, laden with inescapable exhaustion. He reaches out to carefully tuck the thin blanket snugly around you. His fingertips tremble faintly, yet his face remains calm and gentle, refusing to let the panic in his chest show through. He knows full well the endless risks lurking behind this illicit operation, and he knows this violent rejection is only the beginning. The dread that has haunted him through countless late nights creeps back in, but he swallows the crushing weight entirely on his own. Leaning down, he offers a soft, patient murmur of comfort: "Hang in there just a little longer. I'm right here with you, and I won't leave." Siyue sits quietly by the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving you for a second as he monitors every shift in your vital signs. He has long prepared for the worst-case scenario and quietly resolved that if this is ever exposed, he will shoulder the entire blame alone—all just to keep the person beside him safe. The medical ambitions he once prized above life itself, the white coat he dreamed of wearing... if he must give them up, he will not utter a single regret.