Luther paused momentarily, lowering his eyes to look at Joshua, but all he could see was the boy’s jet-black hair crown.
Joshua’s body was still stiff and trembling uncontrollably, every sob pounding against Luther’s chest.
It seemed Luther had found the reason. He patted Joshua’s back lightly, speaking in a gentle voice:
"We won’t go to the hospital, alright? But you have to behave and stop struggling. As long as you don’t resist, we’ll sleep. No hospital, okay?"
He felt the head resting against his chest shift slightly, and Joshua repeated softly:
"No hospital..."
Only then did Luther lift Joshua into his arms. His brows furrowed unconsciously—Joshua felt so much thinner. He could hardly remember what Joshua had even looked like at the start. Not that it mattered; Luther never paid much attention to anyone anyway.
He wanted to click his tongue in annoyance, but thinking about Joshua’s state, he could only hold it back.
He laid Joshua down on the bed, tearing a pajama shirt into strips to bandage Joshua’s foot. They couldn’t go to the hospital right now—he could only hope that Joshua would be clear-headed by tomorrow enough to go on his own.
When Luther looked again, Joshua sat quietly on the bed, like the stubborn, thrashing boy from just moments ago wasn’t him. Luther stepped closer, but Joshua flinched, eyeing him warily.
Luther curled his lips into a faint smile, forcing down his temper.
"I’m just getting my pillow, that’s all."
He didn’t think Joshua could climb up to the top bunk, so he left Joshua to sleep in his own bed and resigned himself to taking Joshua’s instead.
Inside, he felt absurdly uncomfortable. But from Joshua’s perspective, the person before him—with long golden hair and a lovely face, even more radiant when smiling—was not only unangered by being bitten but also refused to drag him to that terrifying place. If fairy tales were real, this must be what a princess looked like...
"Princess..." Joshua thought, and then spoke the word aloud.
The corner of Luther’s eye twitched. He glanced at Joshua, staring wide-eyed with tear-filled, glimmering eyes and a small, solemn face. Luther was so irritated that he wanted to pinch the boy’s cheeks immediately.
But no, Joshua had only just stopped struggling.
Even so, Luther corrected him seriously:
"Call me prince!"
Joshua pressed his lips together, and tears began to spill again.
"Alright, alright, princess then," Luther sighed, giving in. "Now, can you let me go so I can sleep?"
As he spoke, he gently pried Joshua’s hand from his pants and switched off the light.
But just as he turned away, in the darkness came the sound of sobbing—soft whimpers like a kitten that had lost its mother.
Luther pressed his lips together, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. The golden locks Joshua had admired so much instantly turned into a messy tangle. He felt like he must be out of his mind—truly unlucky!
In the dark, Joshua felt a large hand reach over to wipe the tears from his face. Luther pushed him further in and lay down on the outside. With a long yawn, he draped an arm over to pat Joshua’s back and murmured:
"Alright, sleep now, sleep."
The bunk bed was small, forcing them to lie on their sides, but Luther was far too sleepy. He kept patting Joshua until, without even realizing it, he drifted off to sleep.
Joshua didn’t know why he was back in this place. He was supposed to be free already...
But how had he become free? No one had come to save him. Was it just a dream?
Joshua couldn’t tell. The overhead light was blinding—so bright it hurt. That white glare invaded his vision, stabbing his eyes until it felt like he had gone blind.
Voices echoed around him, whispers like countless ghosts.
"...a new drug..."
"Yes, it can boost hormone levels. Hopefully this batch of blood can resist the virus..."
His skin was pierced by a sharp needle, cold liquid flowing into his flesh, carrying pain like thousands of ants gnawing through his veins.
The searing pain and the icy sensation of blood draining from his body tormented Joshua to the brink of madness!
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—when will it end?! Why, why me?! Why treat me like this, why?! It hurts, please, help me, help me...
"Hic... sob, sob..."
The crying in the night jolted Luther awake again. He saw Joshua curled up, body trembling. Quickly, he raised his hand and began soothing him once more.
Only then did he realize Joshua’s body was icy cold, yet his back was sweaty. The moment Luther touched him, Joshua’s whole body stiffened, before slowly relaxing again.
Joshua muttered something, words tangled with sobs, but Luther couldn’t make them out—his own mind was foggy with sleep.
Every time Joshua started crying again, Luther would jolt and pat him, over and over, countless times. Ultimately, Luther didn’t even know how to fall into deep sleep, only that he dreamt of hugging a big ball of mochi, wrapped tightly in his arms. The mochi kept crying nonstop, nearly flooding his entire dream!
Luther’s eyes snapped open, only to squint again as sunlight streamed in through the window crack.
Instinctively, he patted Joshua’s back, then suddenly froze, lowering his gaze.
Joshua was nestled right into the curve of his body, head resting on his arm. Since Luther had stripped off his pajama top to wrap around Joshua’s injured leg, his upper body was completely bare, and his skin felt Joshua’s steady breath.
He wrapped one arm around Joshua, his hand absently patting his back, and their legs tangled together in a messy overlap.
Luther’s head throbbed, but he didn’t think much of it. Carefully, he tried to slide his arm out from under Joshua, realizing with dismay that his arm had surely gone numb after serving as a pillow all night.
Because of his movement, Joshua’s head tilted slightly, revealing a sleeping face flushed pink. His black hair was tousled, falling across his pale forehead, making his white skin appear even more delicate.
The corners of his eyes were red and a little swollen, his lips a ripe plum color—not nearly as pale as they’d been yesterday.
Irritation flared in Luther all at once. His arm was numb from being used as a pillow, and yet Joshua was still sleeping so soundly—it wasn’t fair!
So he reached out and pinched both of Joshua’s cheeks, pushing his lips into a slight pout.
Squish, squish. The feeling wasn’t bad at all. Unable to resist, Luther kneaded them again. Joshua furrowed his brows in his sleep, trying to escape the devilish hand, but was powerless.
Only then did Luther feel a little more satisfied. Hmph!
Clack!
Just then, the door suddenly swung open, and something clattered to the floor—breakfast.
Justin’s eyes widened at the sight before him, filled with utter disbelief.
Shirtless Luther was half sitting up, still looking down at Joshua. The two of them were under the same blanket! Whatever Luther had been doing, Joshua even whimpered a little!
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Justin nearly shouted, and the trainees passing by peeked in curiously, eager for drama, but the door was promptly slammed shut.
Furious, Justin stormed over. Luther looked at him, honestly baffled:
"We just slept together, what else could we have done?"
The roar woke Joshua, too. His head throbbed, his whole body ached as if he’d been run over by a carriage, every joint sore.
Weird... he hadn’t done any heavy exercise before bed.
Joshua thought vaguely as he blinked open his eyes, mumbling:
"Justin, why are you yelling so loud..."
But the scene before him made him freeze.
He wasn’t in his own bed. Luther was lying right next to him. And Justin stood at the bedside, face full of outrage—not unlike a poor husband catching his wife in the act.
Joshua: "..."
Wha... what on earth just happened?