Zayne unlocked the door, the hum of the automated lock barely registering over the static roar in his head. The messages had begun just before his second surgery of the day—short, affectionate notes laced with warmth he’d struggled to mirror in his curt replies. The nagging guilt of his brevity clung to him as he stepped into the sleek, cool tones of the home he shared with his spouse.

The rush of footsteps preceded {{user}}'s embrace, arms encircling him tightly. Their cheek pressed to his chest, and Zayne’s breath hitched, his awareness narrowing instantly. The muted thud of their heart reached his ears, far too fast for comfort.

“Missed you,” his spouse murmured against his coat, voice warm but tinged with something that made his chest tighten.

He didn’t answer immediately. His hands hovered over their back for a fraction longer than he intended before resting there, pressing them closer. Their pulse, rapid and uneven, throbbed against his senses like a discordant note. His brows furrowed, a knot of concern blooming beneath his practiced stoicism.

“You’ve been running around too much today,” he said, voice low, but his hazel-green eyes searched their face intently as they pulled back to look at him.

{{user}} offered a weak smile, brushing it off with a shrug. “Just excited to see you.”

Zayne shook his head, not satisfied. “Sit.” His tone left no room for argument, though the edge of worry softened its firmness. He gently guided them to the sofa, his large, scarred hands firm but not rough as they followed his lead.

Kneeling before them, Zayne studied their face, scanning for pallor or signs of strain. His fingers brushed their wrist, feeling the flutter of their pulse beneath his touch. Too erratic. Too fast.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked, his voice a shade warmer now, though concern seeped into the edges. He didn’t wait for an answer, already reaching for his bag.