WOUNDS AND WHISPERS 

(Kyle's POV)

It's been a week since I moved in with Christian, and I feel more at home than I ever expected. Each night, he sleeps beside me, soothing my constant nightmares with his calming pheromones. In the mornings, he rises early to help the cook prepare breakfast. Despite my discomfort at being cared for by another man, he assists me during my baths, a necessity given how helpless my bruises make me feel. Afterward, he carefully dresses me and tends to my wounds, taking charge of my recovery. Dr. Choi visits regularly to monitor my progress.

When Christian leaves the house, he ensures a female assistant is there to help me, understanding my fear of larger men, especially as an omega. His scent is the only one I can detect, a comforting constant in my fragile state. His vigilance over my safety is unwavering.

He insists I stay indoors, though I have no desire to venture out. Instead, I keep myself busy reading or watching shows on his enormous TV, using the time to learn more about him. But Christian is secretive about his past, and his locked study remains off-limits, a stern warning keeping me away. The strong medication often lulls me to sleep, but today is different. Today, Dr. Choi came for a visit.

"Wait, I have to go to the hospital?" I blurted out, panic rising in my chest as I turned to the doctor for confirmation.

"Yes, Mr. Jeong," the doctor replied calmly. "We need to perform an x-ray to ensure everything is okay. You were shot in the shoulder, and without further investigation, we can't determine the extent of the damage."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and I sat in stunned silence, contemplating the severity of the situation. "Christian," I called out, turning to face him.

"The doctor is right. We need to prioritize your health," Christian said, his voice a mix of concern and determination. "Don't worry, Dr. Choi. We'll be at the hospital first thing tomorrow morning."

"Very well," Dr. Choi nodded. "Please get some rest, Mr. Jeong. Goodbye, Mr. Miller." With that, he departed, leaving us alone with the gravity of the situation.

As the doctor's words sank in, anxiety crept over me, the uncertainty gnawing at my thoughts. Christian noticed my distress and gently asked, "Are you alright?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I... I don't know."

"If you're worried about getting attacked again, I'll come along, and a few of my men will join us."

"I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me," I replied, my voice tinged with guilt. The danger they would face to protect me was immense—a man like me was a walking time bomb.

Christian smiled warmly, tousling my hair in an attempt to comfort me. The gesture stirred a wave of nostalgia, making me feel like a carefree kid again.

"I'm not a child," I muttered, pouting slightly. Christian couldn’t hold back his laughter at my expression.

"Ah, I'm sorry for touching your hair like that," he said, still grinning. "I thought it might make you feel better, like an older brother comforting his younger brother."

I couldn't help but wonder if he knew my age. "Pfft... I'm 29 years old," I said, turning away playfully.

"What...!" Christian gasped, clearly shocked and embarrassed. "You're three years older than me!"

"Do I have to start calling you Hyung, like in those Korean movies?"

He gazed at me with childlike concern, leaning in so close it startled me. I felt myself blush, fumbling over my words. "I guess it depends on whether you want to or not," I stammered, feeling suddenly shy.

"Hmmm... Hyung... I'd like to call you that," Christian said with a smile, locking eyes with me. The room fell into a hush as we held each other's gaze, a silent understanding passing between us. Suddenly, Christian sprang to his feet, breaking the spell.

"I'm starving," he declared, striding toward the door with a new energy. "What do you feel like eating, Hyung?" he asked, flashing a dazzling smile that lit up his face.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at his playful use of the word. "I'm okay with whatever you make," I replied, my smile lingering as I watched him nod and walk out, closing the door behind him.

As the room fell silent again, the laughter faded, replaced by a sense of unease. I couldn't shake the feeling of confusion. Was I getting too attached too quickly? I couldn't help but worry that things were moving too fast, that this newfound closeness was becoming something more than I was ready for.

Caught up in my silly daydreaming, my eyes landed on the mirror hanging on the wall.

How stupid! 

I scolded myself, carefully pulling the robe around my shoulders once again, trying to steady my thoughts.

Smiling, laughing—these were the things I once did with someone familiar. And look where that got me after all those years of torture. Am I going to let myself be swayed so easily again, like I did back then? My shoulder throbbed from the fresh wound, a stark reminder of my battered body, full of scars from a forceful relationship and countless struggles.

Hah! 

I sighed heavily, turning away from the mirror. I walked to the little shelf filled with books, my sanctuary. Reading had always been my escape—healing books, fantasy novels, peaceful scenes that could whisk my mind away from this crazy reality.

Reaching for the novel I had set aside earlier for my check-up, I settled onto the couch next to the large glass window. From there, I could watch the sky shift through its colors, and birds spread their wings across the open sky. It was a beautiful sight, a peaceful environment I would never tire of waking up to each morning.