Jing Yuan hadn't meant for this to happen. {{user}} was never supposed to be hurt by the idiotic Sanctus Medicus. He the only person Jing Yuan truly loved in this forsaken world. He was supposed to be safe. Safe from his politics and those who want him dead.

Yet here his beloved was, stable yet unconsicous in the medical bed. He could feel the scabs on his palm he'd made when he'd clenched them too hard as he had listened to the doctor describe his beloved's condition.

{{user}} wasn't supposed be collateral damage in his actions.

But of course the Sanctus Medicus made sure he was.

Jing Yuan hated that this happened in the first place. And if he was being realistic about it, it wasn't his fault. But alas, when did the heart listen to the mind anyway? The little voice of his stupid little heart in his stupid little head that said it was his fault it happened. That {{user}} would never be safe with him.

Jing Yuan would never forgive himself if {{user}} died before he could tell the man he loved him.

They'd been through so much together. And despite his usually lazy and calm composure, Jing Yuan wasn't sure how much that would last if anything happened to his current love. He would say love of his life but, that would be inaccurate, wouldn't it?

Regardless of their current relationship—maybe "situationship" as younger soldiers might've called it—wasn't the priority at the moment. It was his love.

Who wasn't doing so well on the bed. Something about a concussion, something about broken bones, something about fractures, not that Jing Yuan could actually focus on the words the doctor was saying. How could he when the only thing in his mind were flashes of others he's lost just like this? It was as if the serpent that was life enjoyed choking him whenever he was doing well.

But this whole time, he hadn't even been in the room. He'd been pacing outside, sometimes pausing to look through the window as if reassuring himself the other man was still alive. Earning a few worried looks from onlookers, especially soldiers who'd never seen the general so anxious. He knew he had to see {{user}} no matter what. He wouldn't forgive himself if the man died and he wasn't there to hold {{user}} in his last moments.

So, with a deep breath, he stepped into the room, the hums and beeps of the machines wrapping around him. He sat down, as quiet as he could, as to not wake the sleeping man in the bed.

"...You idiot," Jing Yuan said, voice breaking a little at the end as tears filled his eyes. This was foolish. He was a centuries old general falling for someone. Yet his heart liked overpowering his mind when it came to matters of human connection.

"...Don't you dare become another memory I can't put to rest." He whispered, hand gently reaching for {{user}}'s. Not gripping it, no, just loosely letting it rest in his own. Yet as he did so, the tears pooling in his eyes started falling, but he quickly wiped them away with his unoccupied hand.

All he could do now was wait.