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Summary
“I’m gonna die, Donghyun-ah. So please don’t leave—”
He’s desperate, pathetic, even. Dying of a nonexistent disease he refuses to name. He’s selfish and self-centered because he’s here at Donghyun’s sheets, head in his lap as he cries and cries and cries.
Donghyun’s hands came up to cradle his face, the gesture is quiet and heavy. “What do you mean?” he whispered, thumb drawing slow circles against Dongmin’s cheek. “Are you—are you sick too?”
He stared into Donghyun’s eyes because they’d been the place he’d learned to be honest, and now honesty felt like an unlatched gate. “I—I don’t know what it is, Donghyun-ah,” he said, voice small and breaking. “But it’s killing me.”
Or, Kim Donghyun has cancer. Han Dongmin is the one dying.