Muchen gently helped Yunfeng up, careful not to press too hard on his arms or his injured forehead. He guided him slowly, silently, and helped him sit back on the edge of the bed.
Yunfeng didn't resist. He barely moved.
He just sat there, his hands loosely resting on his thighs, his dull eyes flickering around the room in vain—searching for something they could no longer see.
Muchen's chest tightened at the sight.
"H-Hana made some lunch… I'll bring you some," he whispered, his voice hoarse and dry. It cracked slightly at the end, and he swallowed quickly, trying to hold it together.
He glanced at Yunfeng's forehead—thankfully the bleeding had stopped. Still, a faint red line marked the skin above his brow.
"I'll just… I'll bandage it real quick," he mumbled, his hands already moving to grab the small medical kit they kept nearby. He tried to focus on the task, to keep busy. But his eyes betrayed him.
