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She woke slowly, blinking as her surroundings solidified around her, dark and sterile, with slow, calm beeping and a rather painful crick in her neck. For a moment, she frowned at the unfamiliar surroundings before her memories crashed over her—Rika’s phone call, the moment when she first saw him lying in a puddle of red, the terrible scream she didn't realize was from her. The drive and the rush and the impossibly long wait, when all she had was her phone and the painful, wonderful hope that he would make it.
The pure relief and euphoria that washed over her when he awoke, that was finally enough for her to fall asleep at his side.
“Eunbyeol?” His voice was soft, still rough with pain, but gentle and alive. She jerked upright, wincing as her muscles protested the sudden movement.
“You're awake. How do you feel? Do you need anything?”
The small, affectionate smile on his face, made all the more beautiful by its sincerity, was enough to make her look away, suddenly and inexplicably shy.
“I am doing well enough, I believe. And it is still dark outside. I know you have been busy looking after me for days and I thank you. You deserve to rest."
She turned back to catch his gaze. “And you? You still need to recover.”
“I am. I will. But I have slept so long already.”
To that, she had no counter, and she fell silent as she examined his face. There was color in his complexion that she had not seen in days, though he still remained rather pale. But more importantly, happiness and amusement danced across his features, brightening his eyes and making him look more carefree than she had ever seen him.
She wasn't entirely sure who moved first, but their fingers entwined slowly, with a deliberateness that she could not look away from, not until he huffed a quiet laugh. “It was never this hard before.”
“Hmm?”
“I…” He paused, shaking his head ruefully. “Nothing. Just… thank you, Eunbyeol, for staying with me.”
“Do you intend to thank me as often as you have apologized?” she replied, but with mint green eyes watching her with such intensity, the joke was halfhearted at most. Instead, she took a deep breath. “Of course I’m staying. I wouldn’t be able to bear not knowing…”
His fingers tightened around hers. “I know. But I still need to thank you all the same. I don’t have the words to tell you how much your support has meant, but I need you to know that I will always treasure it.”
“I… I’m glad. To hear that.” The words were half-whispered, full of everything she wanted to say. Everything she had vowed to herself that she wouldn't say, not until she was sure he was ready.
For several moments, they sat in silence, she marveling at the warmth that even his smile could bring, before he shifted, his gaze drifting to the blind-covered window, letting in the barest glimpse of the outside. “It seems to be getting brighter.”
She glanced at the clock. “It's nearly sunrise.”
Something very akin to longing flitted across his face and, though he said nothing, she untangled their fingers, moving to the window and drawing aside the blinds. On the horizon, the barest hint of grey shown from the east, sending the first tendrils of light across the pre-dawn sky.
“Eunbyeol.” His call interrupted her reverie and she shook herself, returning to her seat and taking his hand again. “Thank you. I don't know how long it has been since I…”
“I understand.”
They watched in silence as the sky lightened, turning from inky black to dark purple to a rich orange that bathed the sterile white room with warmth. When the sun rose, red and round and wondrous, over the buildings, his hand tightened around hers and she turned to find him staring, spellbound and heedless to the tears that spilled out of his eyes and streamed down his cheeks, glinting in the golden light.
“It's so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with reverence.
“It is,” she agreed softly, though she wasn’t sure whether she was talking about the sun steadily climbing upward or the look of pure euphoria shining, just as brightly as the sun, from his eyes and the smile lighting his face.
It wasn’t until the sun had risen completely, lighting up the promise of a beautiful day, that he spoke again, smiling ruefully as he swiped at the tear tracks. “I’m glad you are here watching with me. I do not think I have ever seen a sunrise so magnificent, at least not for a very long time.”
“No, nor I. Nor in such good company.”
That earned her a quiet laugh. “I doubt that. But… I would like to do that again, someday, if you wish. Watch a sunrise with you, I mean.”
She smiled. “I would like that very much.”
(Two years later, the morning after the RFA's party found them huddled together under blankets, her head on his shoulder as they watched the sunrise from the balcony of her—and eventually, their—apartment for the first of many times.)