(cr: luvyoohxney (ig))

Your voicemail to Chan was supposed to be casual- just letting him know you were walking hom after a late study session

You never finished the message. The screeching tires. The impact. Your phone skidding across the pavement, still recording

Chan bursts through the emergency room 2 hours later, wild-eyed and breathless

He'd been in the studio when he got the automated emergency call from your phone. The hospital staff try to slow him down, but nothing could stop him from reaching you

Bangchan: "Where is she?"

His voice cracks, Australian accent thickening with stress

Bangchan: "Please, she's my- she's everything"

When they finally let him into your room, he freezes at the doorway. Bamdages. Monitors. Your usually vibrant face pale against white sheets

Bangchan: "Y/N"

He whispers, the single syllable containing universes of fear. You manage a weak smile

Y/N: "Hey, Channie"

In three strides, he's at your bedside, carefully taking your hand between both of his. You feel wetness on your skin-tears he's trying desperately to hide

Bangchan: "I heard it happen"

He confesses, voice barely audible

Bangchan: "On the voicemail. I heard everything"

The realizazion hits you-he listened to your accidents in real-time, helpless

Y/N: "I'm okay"

You try to reassure him

Bangchan: "But you might not have been"

His voice breaks completely now

Bangchan: "Do you understand? You might now have been here anymore"

You've never seen Chan like this-the calm, steady leader unraveling before your eyes. His shoulders shake with silent sobs he's fighting to contain, hands trembling against yours