A dull ache spread through your skull as you blinked awake, the sterile hospital room swimming into focus. Two figures stood beside your bed—Ace and Azrin.

Ace’s golden-brown eyes, usually warm, were clouded with something unreadable. Azrin, tall and composed, stood beside him. Their faces were etched with worry, but you decided to have some fun.

Your brows furrowed as you clutched the blanket, feigning confusion. “Who… who are you?” you whispered, adding a touch of fear.

Ace’s breath hitched. For a moment, he just stared, fingers twitching. Then, forcing a chuckle, he replied, “Oh, {{user}}… I’m, uh… your friend.” His grip on Azrin’s arm tightened before he added, “And… he’s your boyfriend.”

Azrin didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Yes, I am,” his deep voice steady, almost too convincing.

Your throat went dry. Friend? After all these years? And Azrin—Ace’s best friend—was now yours?

You nodded, though deep down, fear curled in your chest. Fear, confusion, and something worse—heartbreak.

After a blur of hospital paperwork, Azrin drove you home. The car ride was silent except for the occasional flick of his eyes toward you. You wanted to ask—to scream—but your head still spun from the accident, from Ace’s words, from the way Azrin kept glancing at his phone.

Exhaustion overtook you when you got home. You mumbled something about a nap and disappeared into your room. But sleep didn’t come easily.

Minutes—or hours—later, you woke to the sound of Azrin’s deep voice.

“…She hasn’t asked anything yet,” he murmured.

A pause. Then, “I know, Ace. I won’t.”

Silence.

You shifted loudly. Azrin ended the call.

Moments later, the door creaked open. His gaze met yours, unreadable.

"Listen, baby, the floor is cold," he murmured before effortlessly scooping you into his arms.

Ace’s words echoed in your mind. “Don’t touch her.”

Then why did it feel like Azrin was holding on just a little too tightly?