Eunhyuk does what he always does whenever his world is tilted on its axis, even when it's disintegrating beneath him. He keeps moving, the distance in this bathroom between him and Luke feels like it's leagues and leagues away, but somehow he gets there, puts his hand on the dial and turns the running water off, and then crouches down in the stall next to Luke, uncaring of the water soaking into his clothes,
he puts a now warm hand against Luke's forehead, both to rouse him and to check his temperature,]
Luke. Can you hear me?
[his heart thuds beneath his ribs, but he seems outwardly calm, even as he gently slides his hand against the back of Luke's skull, checking for bumps.]
Eunhyuk can turn the water off--icy cold, since he can feel that now--and, once he's close enough, he'll probably see that Luke's shivering a little, which, duh. His temperature feels exactly how you'd expect from someone who's been in a cold shower, though fortunately there's no blood or bumps or anything to indicate he fell. In fact, his eyes flutter open as the water turns off, though he doesn't fight it as Eunhyuk presses a warm hand to his forehead.]
Eunhyuk--? [He starts to say something else, but then he hisses, clutching at his side and curling into himself a little more.
[The flare of relief at the lack of bumps and blood is immediately snuffed out by what Luke says next, cold certainty settling in its place as Eunhyuk leaves to retrieve the pill case and a glass of water.
He pops it open as he returns with haste, pressing the pills into Luke's hand.]
Here.
[and the glass of water too -- don't just dry swallow these pills LUKE]
[Yeah he was definitely just going to dry swallow them--in fact, he still does in his haste to down them, but he'll at least take the glass with a shaking hand after. He doesn't sip at it so much as he presses the rim of it to his mouth and tries to force his breathing to stabilize, but. It's something.]
Thanks. [His voice is little raspy when he speaks, his gaze on the floor.] ...Sorry.
[He should've known Eunhyuk would worry, should've been faster, should've tried harder--]
[Luke looks at the floor and Eunhyuk looks at him, at the way he holds the glass and doesn't drink any water. He can hear the trickle of water from the shower head, dripping onto the tile, the rasp in Luke's voice.
This is hardly the time or place to continue this conversation, not when the room is so cold and Luke is naked. and yet,]
What are you apologizing for?
[for being late? for not telling Eunhyuk? or for just worrying him in the first place?]
[Luke doesn't answer right away--he doesn't acknowledge Eunhyuk at all, to the point where it might seem like he didn't hear the question. But eventually, softly, though not soft enough to obscure his reluctance to speak:]
...Thought I had it.
[That it was under control, at least enough to slip away for a little bit and cobble his facade back together. For all his stubbornness, he wouldn't have left unsupervised if he'd truly thought he couldn't make it, because passing out and banging his head on the shower wall is an idiotic way to die.]
I didn't think the [...] painkillers would wear off until I was done.
[...It's a very Luke-like answer. As ever, the expression on Eunhyuk's face doesn't change, even if he feels his chest squeeze.
Eunhyuk reaches out to take the glass and set it aside, then gently wraps the towel he'd carried inside with him around Luke, as if it can ward off the frigid chill from the shower,]
You don't have to be sorry for that. [...] You don't have to keep it from me either.
[He lets Eunhyuk pull the glass out of his hand, his grip somehow loose and stiff at the same time. He tenses slightly when Eunhyuk reaches for him, but he doesn't flinch back or try to push him away. Instead, he stays very still--only once Eunhyuk's draped the towel over him does he finally lose a tiny bit of tension, slumping over to lean against Eunhyuk's chest.
I'm sorry is on the tip of his tongue again, this time for hiding it--or, more accurately, for getting caught. He's tried to be more honest since they started this, but that's so much easier when it comes to things like talking about his love, or even sharing stories of his past. But he can't shake off the part of himself that never wants his loved ones to worry, the part that's so convinced showing signs of weakness is an unforgivable misstep.
And it's stupid, he knows. Eunhyuk already knows he's ill, so it's not like an episode like this would've come as a shock. They're both well aware that getting cured is an unsteady process. And most importantly, Luke has full faith in Scien's ability to figure out what Aaron couldn't. He's still anxious about the guillotine blade resting against his neck, but this time he's got failsafe after failsafe, and the promise of a godlike genius to rely on. He's no longer fixated on the certainty of his death the way he used to be.
But even so--this is a type of vulnerability Luke still hates to show. And he can't help but take it as a failure.
He knows Eunhyuk doesn't want to hear more apologies. But he doesn't want to try and struggle through an explanation of his thoughts: that he did have to keep it from him, actually, because he doesn't know how to do anything else, and even though he's trying to be more open, he loves Eunhyuk too much to subject him to this kind of worry,
He doesn't have the energy to say all of that, especially when his body still aches from the fading pain. So instead, he keeps his voice soft, pushing down the bitterness he feels.]
[Eunhyuk wants to argue, but the way Luke slumps against him and the muted quality of his voice convinces him not to -- at least for now. He wraps his arms around Luke instead, a loose circle of an embrace instead of a tight hug, mindful of the exhaustion Luke must feel, especially after a day like this one. It's why he doesn't usher Luke up right away, wrap him in something warmer than just a damp towel and his arms. It's why his reply is soft in return, instead of unhappy,]
I want to.
[What he wants to say is that worry is such an intrinsic part of him, his life, how he expresses his stilted affections for the people he loves, and he doesn't know who he is without it. What can he offer Luke and Eunyoo if not this? How else can he convey that he's only ever thinking of them? This habit of his that can be so suffocating and cloying to deal with. He can't fault Luke for trying to avoid the subject,]
[It's not like it's the first time Eunhyuk's said such things, but hearing it now makes him turn his face further into Eunhyuk's body, hiding the way his mouth twists unhappily.]
I know.
[And he loves knowing, even if he can hardly believe it some days, so certain that he doesn't deserve all of Eunhyuk's patience and affection, that one day Eunhyuk will wake up and realize the same--but right now, it only makes him feel even more guilty and miserable, knowing he's hurt Eunhyuk, that he's still hurting him by failing to promise his honesty and openness in the future.
It feels like a pitiful gesture, but he lifts a hand, curling his fingers loosely over Eunhyuk's arm. He breathes in, slow and shaky, and some of the tension bleeds out of him when he isn't instantly wracked with pain again.]
...I'm still sorry.
[That he's putting through Eunhyuk through this--making him watch on the sidelines as Luke stubbornly fights off the poison inside him in the most mundane and tedious way, out of some awful blend of pride, loyalty, and paranoia.]
[He can't see Luke's expression like this, but he can read him in other ways -- the pitch of his voice, the grip of his hand, the way Luke breathes in and out, in and out. Eunhyuk breathes with him, rubbing a slow circle across his back. It's the least he can do, and maybe it's the only thing. But he's come to terms with it, that the person who'll save Luke, really help him, is someone else.
For now, he presses a kiss to the top of Luke's head,]
...Thank you. [...] For always thinking of me.
[Even if it's not necessarily in the ways Eunhyuk would prefer to be thought of. But just being thought of at all is a kindness, a rarity.]
I'll do better too. I won't let you carry it alone.
[the way this sounds so sweet when it's a promise to nag Luke even more in the future]
[It's definitely a promise to nag--but Luke can't be angry, not when this is his love language, too. He's still lying even now, and he still wants to run away, to hide until he can face Eunhyuk with a steady smile again. But he knows, even without Eunhyuk saying it, that Eunhyuk doesn't want that. Rosa doesn't, either. They're too alike that way, these people that Luke can't help but love.
If their positions were reversed, he'd be treating Eunhyuk a thousand times worse than Eunhyuk has treated him. Eunhyuk has been so patient, so trusting, despite how terrible it must be to watch Luke stubbornly struggle through this. He's so much stronger than Luke is, in so many ways--if Luke wasn't so exhausted, he'd say as much.
But he can't leave it like this. Not when he's made Eunhyuk think he failed in some way. This is entirely Luke's fault, and the only thing keeping the guilt and shame at bay is the steady pressure of Eunhyuk's hand on his back.]
...
[Through sheer force of will, he musters up the strength to shift, trying to get to his feet. It's probably dangerous to do this on the wet bathroom floor, but Luke doesn't care; he does, however, lean into Eunhyuk a little more than he normally would, going against every natural instinct and forcing himself to keep his guard down. He has to give Eunhyuk his honesty. Now, while he's still weak enough to talk himself into it. Once he starts feeling better, he'll lose the nerve. He knows himself well enough for that.]
[Eunhyuk doesn't whisk Luke off his feet -- even though he's sorely tempted to, because he can tell that this is Luke trying, and he doesn't want to make Luke feel like an invalid -- instead he keeps himself steady as Luke gets to his feet, and then makes for the bathroom door, heading straight to their room. He helps Luke maneuver onto the bed first, then brings him a bathrobe from the dresser, pulling the wrapper around him. They've gone to bed naked before, but Eunhyuk can still feel the chill from the shower, and he's never been the type to take chances.
His expression is calm, but his hands keep busy as he runs the towel through Luke's hair, careful not to ruffle too hard, but with just enough pressure to squeeze any excess water out. He'll let Luke take over if he tries, but for now Eunhyuk keeps quiet, focused on trying to make Luke comfortable in what little ways he can.
Maybe he'd be more comfortable if Eunhyuk looked away, or pretended that he doesn't see, but for all of a gifted liar Eunhyuk is, he doesn't want to exude that kind of indifference in front of Luke -- never for Luke. Even if Luke might prefer it.]
[Luke is trying--and so is Eunhyuk. Luke can tell that much, even in the state he's in. It's so incredibly shameful, needing any support whatsoever--the fact that Eunhyuk isn't ignoring his stubbornness and carrying him to bed, the fact that he so patiently helps Luke get there on his own, it isn't lost on Luke. The care and respect would be touching, if Luke wasn't so caught up in his dark, miserable thoughts; as it stands, it's barely enough for Luke to let Eunhyuk dress him, slowly and awkwardly lifting his arms so that Eunhyuk can bundle him up in the robe.
He sits in silence as Eunhyuk dries his hair; if there's anything notable in Eunhyuk's quiet, he doesn't notice it, too caught up in his own thoughts. He keeps his hands in his lap, but he's stiff with discomfort; whatever pills he took in the bathroom were very clearly emergency stop-gaps, rather than any kind of genuinely effective curative. Technically, Luke does have other things he could take right now, a whole row of little bottles tucked away inside the medicine cabinet--but he doesn't ask Eunhyuk to grab anything for him. And while Luke is definitely an idiot in a lot of ways, he typically doesn't try and tough out attacks, preferring instead to take risks with his various medicines for even the slightest chance at normalcy. A part of him thinks that Eunhyuk would simply say no if he asked for more, that he'd insist on calling Aaron (or worse, Scien) if Luke took more medicine without telling him anything--but the rest of him is simply... tired. Tired, and distracted, and hurting. He doesn't want play with fire, with suspicious injections or Reliver-made pills that he'd never actually described to Eunyhuk in detail. He just wants to lay down and cling to Eunhyuk until he falls back asleep, and he is so, so sick of losing hours, days, because his body won't cooperate.
Eunhyuk has to slow down eventually; once he does, Luke takes a moment to lean against him, drawing support from his presence. Love is the one thing that has always given Luke strength, and he clings to it now. He thinks of how delightfully warm Eunhyuk feels now, even if it's just a normal human body temperature. He thinks of how thin and malnourished Eunhyuk and Eunyoo had both been when they'd first moved to Stellis, and how healthy and solid he feels now. Most of all, he thinks about how much he doesn't want to lose this--how he so desperately wants to keep the promise he'd made back on the ship, when he'd said, "I'll choose to live."
Rosa, he'd once thought, could move on without him. If he never told her any of his truths, if he watched her find happiness with someone else, and let her believe he'd died on the battlefield... she would mourn, but eventually, she'd be alright. She'd never needed him the way he needed her, after all. But Eunhyuk? Eunyoo? Luke's the one who dragged them here, away from everything they'd ever known. He's the one who ensconced them in Stellis, offering them the double-edged sword of safety and codependency. Luke did, of course, make emergency plans for them, and there's nothing stopping them from going elsewhere if they really needed to--but Luke knows that that's so much easier than it sounds. He can't force them to uproot the lives they've just begun to build, all because he was too stubborn to ask for help at a critical juncture.
He can't leave Eunhyuk behind. Not like this.]
...Drawer. [He speaks, finally, once it seems like Eunhyuk might be done fussing. His voice is soft, and he can't quite keep the bitter exhaustion out of his tone, but he tries as hard as he can. He lifts a hand, gesturing very loosely towards the beside table--letting Eunhyuk do something for him, even though Luke thinks he could probably manage it himself. He knows how important it is to feel helpful at times like this.] There's a--box. A small black one.
[Luke leans on him and Eunhyuk can only think about how ill-equipped he is at comfort, at how he's spent so many years failing to give exactly that for Eunyoo, at how he never knows the right words to say or the right thing to do. If he and Luke's positions were reversed, then he'd have no doubt that Luke would succeed where Eunhyuk fails. That's Luke's strength, not Eunhyuk's, and somehow Luke loves him despite that. Luke still wants him here. He's choosing to trust and rely on him, despite everything. Eunhyuk's more grateful than all his inadequate words can say.
All Eunhyuk can do right now is be present. He likes to think that he's learned not to sacrifice parts of himself for the sake of his loved ones, but that might be because he hasn't had the opportunity to since moving to Stellis -- either way, he'll take that as the small win it is. Instead of adding to Luke's worries, he can at least reassure him that he'll always be here.
He finishes with Luke's hair, tucking a strand of it behind his ear, when Luke speaks up. His gaze goes immediately to the drawer and then back, but he keeps whatever questions he has in favor of moving to retrieve said box -- settling back next to Luke with it in hand.
He holds it out for Luke to take, even if his first instinct is to open it and see -- he doesn't think it's medicine, that if Luke needed anything then Eunhyuk would find it back in the cabinet, but if it's not medicine, then what could it be?]
Just kidding... CAN YOU IMAGINE. But no--he takes it, or more accurately, lets Eunhyuk put it down on his lap before he slowly, carefully, eases it open. Not so much because the items inside are delicate, but because the stiffness and tension within him haven't fully eased up, even though he knows he's safe from sudden pain for at least a little while. It's not the first time he's been in this situation, but he can't help the paranoia. Not when he's already so frustrated about failing to keep this episode hidden from Eunhyuk, which had been the entire goal of slipping away to Arpechele so early in the morning.
The thought makes him hesitate, devotion warring with his innate desire to run, to hide--things he won't be able to do anymore, if he goes through with this. With any luck, it won't be a problem much longer, but after today's failures, Luke is not optimistic. It doesn't matter that he has multiple failsafes in place, that barring a catastrophic anomaly, he has more than one way to guarantee his life won't end as abruptly as it did on the ship. It's willingly showing any weakness, any pain and suffering at all, that he's struggling to accept.
Perhaps it's appropriate that the box on his lap doesn't feel like a gift, or even an apology, when it wasn't meant for Eunhyuk in the first place. But if it can't be those things, then maybe it can be... atonement, for today, and a promise for tomorrow. He wants Eunhyuk to see the truth of him even less than he did when they were strangers--but he can't bear the thought of pushing him away with his lies, even if they both know they're well-intentioned.
He takes an unsteady breath, and finally sets the lid aside. Inside the box is a bracelet, along with a small device--like a tablet, only much more compact. Quietly, he reaches in and snaps the bracelet on his own wrist; it fits perfectly, clearly already adjusted, or perhaps specifically made.
With that done, he reaches back inside, and turns the device on; as it flickers to life, the screen reads syncing. Luke presses it into Eunhyuk's hands before he can change his mind and backtrack out of this.]
...It's a health monitor. It'll let you track my physical condition, even when we're apart. [He pauses, pressing his lips together. Admits--] This one was supposed to be for Aaron. I wanted to give you... a modified one. After... [...] After this was over.
[A show of trust and love--not only in Eunhyuk, but in his own health, after the sickness plaguing him was finally eradicated. But a half-lie, in its own way; he'd only wanted Eunhyuk to have this once there was nothing frightening or depressing to see on that screen.
This, though... even if it's awful and terrifying, it also feels like the right thing to do. Like the only possible thing he can offer in response to Eunhyuk's gentle I want to. If he can't promise truth in words, he can at least offer this--data and science, the very things he's counting on to survive.]
Eunhyuk curls his fingers carefully around the weight in his palm, bringing the tablet up higher. It's such a small thing, but the magnitude of the gesture isn't lost on him, not when he knows how deeply private Luke is, how stubborn he's been with his own suffering. Eunhyuk should be happy, and he is -- because he can tell that this is Luke's way of confiding in him. He doesn't have the head for science that Luke does, but the numbers appeal to him in the same way. They can be a comfort when nothing else can, a real, tangible thing that could mean the difference between life or death. Eunhyuk thinks of all the numbers scrawled onto whatever scraps of paper he could find, tallies written under two neat categories: survivors and the dead. Long nights spent with just him and those numbers, until every face in that little community bled into the page.
back then, it had been easier to think of everyone else that way. but it's impossible now. His chest feels tight, packed with all the emotions that prevent him from breaking Luke down into a set of data. His worry, his longing, his hopes, his fears -- all a tumultuous rush seeking to break free from his usual stoic expression, maybe in the form of an embrace, like a child would, suddenly afraid.
instead, he places the tablet beside him on the bed, and then reaches for Luke's hand. the tightness in his chest loosens, eased by Luke's physical presence, and the fact that he's still here with Eunhyuk,]
...Luke.
[the name lingers, less because Eunhyuk doesn't know what to say, and more because it might be enough. the gratitude implicit in his tone, the softening of his features that anyone else might not be able to tell. then another beat of silence, before the corners of his lips quirk up, just a little]
You still can. [his thumb slides along the edge of the bracelet] I'll wear a bracelet too, if you make one for me. We can match.
[as human as he is now (or at least he fervently hopes that he is), there's no telling of what the future will hold for either of them. and it seems only fair, that Luke can keep track of him in this way too (LIKE HE'S NOT ALREADY? CAN U GUYS EXCHANGE RINGS LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE)]
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Eunhyuk does what he always does whenever his world is tilted on its axis, even when it's disintegrating beneath him. He keeps moving, the distance in this bathroom between him and Luke feels like it's leagues and leagues away, but somehow he gets there, puts his hand on the dial and turns the running water off, and then crouches down in the stall next to Luke, uncaring of the water soaking into his clothes,
he puts a now warm hand against Luke's forehead, both to rouse him and to check his temperature,]
Luke. Can you hear me?
[his heart thuds beneath his ribs, but he seems outwardly calm, even as he gently slides his hand against the back of Luke's skull, checking for bumps.]
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Eunhyuk can turn the water off--icy cold, since he can feel that now--and, once he's close enough, he'll probably see that Luke's shivering a little, which, duh. His temperature feels exactly how you'd expect from someone who's been in a cold shower, though fortunately there's no blood or bumps or anything to indicate he fell. In fact, his eyes flutter open as the water turns off, though he doesn't fight it as Eunhyuk presses a warm hand to his forehead.]
Eunhyuk--? [He starts to say something else, but then he hisses, clutching at his side and curling into himself a little more.
Through gritted teeth--] Pills-- jacket--
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He pops it open as he returns with haste, pressing the pills into Luke's hand.]
Here.
[and the glass of water too -- don't just dry swallow these pills LUKE]
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Thanks. [His voice is little raspy when he speaks, his gaze on the floor.] ...Sorry.
[He should've known Eunhyuk would worry, should've been faster, should've tried harder--]
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This is hardly the time or place to continue this conversation, not when the room is so cold and Luke is naked. and yet,]
What are you apologizing for?
[for being late? for not telling Eunhyuk? or for just worrying him in the first place?]
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...Thought I had it.
[That it was under control, at least enough to slip away for a little bit and cobble his facade back together. For all his stubbornness, he wouldn't have left unsupervised if he'd truly thought he couldn't make it, because passing out and banging his head on the shower wall is an idiotic way to die.]
I didn't think the [...] painkillers would wear off until I was done.
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Eunhyuk reaches out to take the glass and set it aside, then gently wraps the towel he'd carried inside with him around Luke, as if it can ward off the frigid chill from the shower,]
You don't have to be sorry for that. [...] You don't have to keep it from me either.
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I'm sorry is on the tip of his tongue again, this time for hiding it--or, more accurately, for getting caught. He's tried to be more honest since they started this, but that's so much easier when it comes to things like talking about his love, or even sharing stories of his past. But he can't shake off the part of himself that never wants his loved ones to worry, the part that's so convinced showing signs of weakness is an unforgivable misstep.
And it's stupid, he knows. Eunhyuk already knows he's ill, so it's not like an episode like this would've come as a shock. They're both well aware that getting cured is an unsteady process. And most importantly, Luke has full faith in Scien's ability to figure out what Aaron couldn't. He's still anxious about the guillotine blade resting against his neck, but this time he's got failsafe after failsafe, and the promise of a godlike genius to rely on. He's no longer fixated on the certainty of his death the way he used to be.
But even so--this is a type of vulnerability Luke still hates to show. And he can't help but take it as a failure.
He knows Eunhyuk doesn't want to hear more apologies. But he doesn't want to try and struggle through an explanation of his thoughts: that he did have to keep it from him, actually, because he doesn't know how to do anything else, and even though he's trying to be more open, he loves Eunhyuk too much to subject him to this kind of worry,
He doesn't have the energy to say all of that, especially when his body still aches from the fading pain. So instead, he keeps his voice soft, pushing down the bitterness he feels.]
I didn't want you to worry.
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I want to.
[What he wants to say is that worry is such an intrinsic part of him, his life, how he expresses his stilted affections for the people he loves, and he doesn't know who he is without it. What can he offer Luke and Eunyoo if not this? How else can he convey that he's only ever thinking of them? This habit of his that can be so suffocating and cloying to deal with. He can't fault Luke for trying to avoid the subject,]
Because you matter to me.
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I know.
[And he loves knowing, even if he can hardly believe it some days, so certain that he doesn't deserve all of Eunhyuk's patience and affection, that one day Eunhyuk will wake up and realize the same--but right now, it only makes him feel even more guilty and miserable, knowing he's hurt Eunhyuk, that he's still hurting him by failing to promise his honesty and openness in the future.
It feels like a pitiful gesture, but he lifts a hand, curling his fingers loosely over Eunhyuk's arm. He breathes in, slow and shaky, and some of the tension bleeds out of him when he isn't instantly wracked with pain again.]
...I'm still sorry.
[That he's putting through Eunhyuk through this--making him watch on the sidelines as Luke stubbornly fights off the poison inside him in the most mundane and tedious way, out of some awful blend of pride, loyalty, and paranoia.]
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For now, he presses a kiss to the top of Luke's head,]
...Thank you. [...] For always thinking of me.
[Even if it's not necessarily in the ways Eunhyuk would prefer to be thought of. But just being thought of at all is a kindness, a rarity.]
I'll do better too. I won't let you carry it alone.
[the way this sounds so sweet when it's a promise to nag Luke even more in the future]
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If their positions were reversed, he'd be treating Eunhyuk a thousand times worse than Eunhyuk has treated him. Eunhyuk has been so patient, so trusting, despite how terrible it must be to watch Luke stubbornly struggle through this. He's so much stronger than Luke is, in so many ways--if Luke wasn't so exhausted, he'd say as much.
But he can't leave it like this. Not when he's made Eunhyuk think he failed in some way. This is entirely Luke's fault, and the only thing keeping the guilt and shame at bay is the steady pressure of Eunhyuk's hand on his back.]
...
[Through sheer force of will, he musters up the strength to shift, trying to get to his feet. It's probably dangerous to do this on the wet bathroom floor, but Luke doesn't care; he does, however, lean into Eunhyuk a little more than he normally would, going against every natural instinct and forcing himself to keep his guard down. He has to give Eunhyuk his honesty. Now, while he's still weak enough to talk himself into it. Once he starts feeling better, he'll lose the nerve. He knows himself well enough for that.]
...Bed. Please.
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His expression is calm, but his hands keep busy as he runs the towel through Luke's hair, careful not to ruffle too hard, but with just enough pressure to squeeze any excess water out. He'll let Luke take over if he tries, but for now Eunhyuk keeps quiet, focused on trying to make Luke comfortable in what little ways he can.
Maybe he'd be more comfortable if Eunhyuk looked away, or pretended that he doesn't see, but for all of a gifted liar Eunhyuk is, he doesn't want to exude that kind of indifference in front of Luke -- never for Luke. Even if Luke might prefer it.]
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He sits in silence as Eunhyuk dries his hair; if there's anything notable in Eunhyuk's quiet, he doesn't notice it, too caught up in his own thoughts. He keeps his hands in his lap, but he's stiff with discomfort; whatever pills he took in the bathroom were very clearly emergency stop-gaps, rather than any kind of genuinely effective curative. Technically, Luke does have other things he could take right now, a whole row of little bottles tucked away inside the medicine cabinet--but he doesn't ask Eunhyuk to grab anything for him. And while Luke is definitely an idiot in a lot of ways, he typically doesn't try and tough out attacks, preferring instead to take risks with his various medicines for even the slightest chance at normalcy. A part of him thinks that Eunhyuk would simply say no if he asked for more, that he'd insist on calling Aaron (or worse, Scien) if Luke took more medicine without telling him anything--but the rest of him is simply... tired. Tired, and distracted, and hurting. He doesn't want play with fire, with suspicious injections or Reliver-made pills that he'd never actually described to Eunyhuk in detail. He just wants to lay down and cling to Eunhyuk until he falls back asleep, and he is so, so sick of losing hours, days, because his body won't cooperate.
Eunhyuk has to slow down eventually; once he does, Luke takes a moment to lean against him, drawing support from his presence. Love is the one thing that has always given Luke strength, and he clings to it now. He thinks of how delightfully warm Eunhyuk feels now, even if it's just a normal human body temperature. He thinks of how thin and malnourished Eunhyuk and Eunyoo had both been when they'd first moved to Stellis, and how healthy and solid he feels now. Most of all, he thinks about how much he doesn't want to lose this--how he so desperately wants to keep the promise he'd made back on the ship, when he'd said, "I'll choose to live."
Rosa, he'd once thought, could move on without him. If he never told her any of his truths, if he watched her find happiness with someone else, and let her believe he'd died on the battlefield... she would mourn, but eventually, she'd be alright. She'd never needed him the way he needed her, after all. But Eunhyuk? Eunyoo? Luke's the one who dragged them here, away from everything they'd ever known. He's the one who ensconced them in Stellis, offering them the double-edged sword of safety and codependency. Luke did, of course, make emergency plans for them, and there's nothing stopping them from going elsewhere if they really needed to--but Luke knows that that's so much easier than it sounds. He can't force them to uproot the lives they've just begun to build, all because he was too stubborn to ask for help at a critical juncture.
He can't leave Eunhyuk behind. Not like this.]
...Drawer. [He speaks, finally, once it seems like Eunhyuk might be done fussing. His voice is soft, and he can't quite keep the bitter exhaustion out of his tone, but he tries as hard as he can. He lifts a hand, gesturing very loosely towards the beside table--letting Eunhyuk do something for him, even though Luke thinks he could probably manage it himself. He knows how important it is to feel helpful at times like this.] There's a--box. A small black one.
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All Eunhyuk can do right now is be present. He likes to think that he's learned not to sacrifice parts of himself for the sake of his loved ones, but that might be because he hasn't had the opportunity to since moving to Stellis -- either way, he'll take that as the small win it is. Instead of adding to Luke's worries, he can at least reassure him that he'll always be here.
He finishes with Luke's hair, tucking a strand of it behind his ear, when Luke speaks up. His gaze goes immediately to the drawer and then back, but he keeps whatever questions he has in favor of moving to retrieve said box -- settling back next to Luke with it in hand.
He holds it out for Luke to take, even if his first instinct is to open it and see -- he doesn't think it's medicine, that if Luke needed anything then Eunhyuk would find it back in the cabinet, but if it's not medicine, then what could it be?]
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Just kidding... CAN YOU IMAGINE. But no--he takes it, or more accurately, lets Eunhyuk put it down on his lap before he slowly, carefully, eases it open. Not so much because the items inside are delicate, but because the stiffness and tension within him haven't fully eased up, even though he knows he's safe from sudden pain for at least a little while. It's not the first time he's been in this situation, but he can't help the paranoia. Not when he's already so frustrated about failing to keep this episode hidden from Eunhyuk, which had been the entire goal of slipping away to Arpechele so early in the morning.
The thought makes him hesitate, devotion warring with his innate desire to run, to hide--things he won't be able to do anymore, if he goes through with this. With any luck, it won't be a problem much longer, but after today's failures, Luke is not optimistic. It doesn't matter that he has multiple failsafes in place, that barring a catastrophic anomaly, he has more than one way to guarantee his life won't end as abruptly as it did on the ship. It's willingly showing any weakness, any pain and suffering at all, that he's struggling to accept.
Perhaps it's appropriate that the box on his lap doesn't feel like a gift, or even an apology, when it wasn't meant for Eunhyuk in the first place. But if it can't be those things, then maybe it can be... atonement, for today, and a promise for tomorrow. He wants Eunhyuk to see the truth of him even less than he did when they were strangers--but he can't bear the thought of pushing him away with his lies, even if they both know they're well-intentioned.
He takes an unsteady breath, and finally sets the lid aside. Inside the box is a bracelet, along with a small device--like a tablet, only much more compact. Quietly, he reaches in and snaps the bracelet on his own wrist; it fits perfectly, clearly already adjusted, or perhaps specifically made.
With that done, he reaches back inside, and turns the device on; as it flickers to life, the screen reads syncing. Luke presses it into Eunhyuk's hands before he can change his mind and backtrack out of this.]
...It's a health monitor. It'll let you track my physical condition, even when we're apart. [He pauses, pressing his lips together. Admits--] This one was supposed to be for Aaron. I wanted to give you... a modified one. After... [...] After this was over.
[A show of trust and love--not only in Eunhyuk, but in his own health, after the sickness plaguing him was finally eradicated. But a half-lie, in its own way; he'd only wanted Eunhyuk to have this once there was nothing frightening or depressing to see on that screen.
This, though... even if it's awful and terrifying, it also feels like the right thing to do. Like the only possible thing he can offer in response to Eunhyuk's gentle I want to. If he can't promise truth in words, he can at least offer this--data and science, the very things he's counting on to survive.]
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Eunhyuk curls his fingers carefully around the weight in his palm, bringing the tablet up higher. It's such a small thing, but the magnitude of the gesture isn't lost on him, not when he knows how deeply private Luke is, how stubborn he's been with his own suffering. Eunhyuk should be happy, and he is -- because he can tell that this is Luke's way of confiding in him. He doesn't have the head for science that Luke does, but the numbers appeal to him in the same way. They can be a comfort when nothing else can, a real, tangible thing that could mean the difference between life or death. Eunhyuk thinks of all the numbers scrawled onto whatever scraps of paper he could find, tallies written under two neat categories: survivors and the dead. Long nights spent with just him and those numbers, until every face in that little community bled into the page.
back then, it had been easier to think of everyone else that way. but it's impossible now. His chest feels tight, packed with all the emotions that prevent him from breaking Luke down into a set of data. His worry, his longing, his hopes, his fears -- all a tumultuous rush seeking to break free from his usual stoic expression, maybe in the form of an embrace, like a child would, suddenly afraid.
instead, he places the tablet beside him on the bed, and then reaches for Luke's hand. the tightness in his chest loosens, eased by Luke's physical presence, and the fact that he's still here with Eunhyuk,]
...Luke.
[the name lingers, less because Eunhyuk doesn't know what to say, and more because it might be enough. the gratitude implicit in his tone, the softening of his features that anyone else might not be able to tell. then another beat of silence, before the corners of his lips quirk up, just a little]
You still can. [his thumb slides along the edge of the bracelet] I'll wear a bracelet too, if you make one for me. We can match.
[as human as he is now (or at least he fervently hopes that he is), there's no telling of what the future will hold for either of them. and it seems only fair, that Luke can keep track of him in this way too (LIKE HE'S NOT ALREADY? CAN U GUYS EXCHANGE RINGS LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE)]