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“What would you like us to do, sir?” the voice on the other end asked, their tone devoid of emotion.
“I want you to do whatever is necessary to get what we fucking want. Leave no men standing. I’m tired of their bullshit,” I growled, frustration boiling within me. Ten years was too long. It was time to settle the score.
“Dus, over here!” JV yelled, his voice filled with adrenaline.
I sprinted towards him, knife drawn, ready to strike. Two men emerged from the shadows, their faces distorted by rage. They lunged at us, but we were too quick. With a swift motion, I disarmed one attacker and plunged my knife into his neck. JV, with equal precision, took down the other.
More enemies appeared, their weapons raised. I fired two shots, each bullet finding its mark. JV, meanwhile, was a force of nature, his movements fluid and deadly. He took down one attacker after another, his strength and agility unmatched.
Suddenly, a bullet struck JV’s shoulder. He stumbled, pain etched across his face. I rushed to his side, cradling his injured body. “Don’t die on me just yet,” I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation.
JV chuckled, his voice weak. “Are you confessing your love for me, Dusan?” he teased.
“Sir! We got him!” a voice shouted from behind.
“Good. Start the helicopter and tell Steffen to take us to the nearest hospital. Stay behind and make sure everything is in order,” I ordered.
I ripped a piece of my shirt and used it to apply pressure to JV’s wound. With a heavy sigh, I hoisted him onto my back and began the arduous climb to the rooftop. The helicopter roared to life, its powerful engines drowning out the sounds of the battle below. I placed JV inside, securing him with the seatbelt.
“Go,” I commanded, my voice firm.
As the helicopter took off, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief and dread. Relief that we had escaped, but dread for the future. The war was far from over, and the enemy would not rest until they had been defeated.
Throughout the flight, Steffen communicated with the nearest hospital, keeping them updated on their arrival. The urgency in his voice mirrored my own anxiety. Looking out the window, I saw a team of doctors already waiting on the tarmac, prepared with a scoop stretcher and medical equipment, ready for whatever came their way. But it wasn’t just the medical team that had caught my attention.
My gaze quickly returned back to JV, who was still fighting to stay conscious, his face a ghostly shade of white. The sight of my friend suffering only heightened my worry, though I tried to hide it. The landing was rough, but the helicopter touched down safely. The doors swung open immediately, and the medical team rushed in, ready to take JV into their care.
I stepped out of the helicopter, but the moment I did, a chill ran down my spine. My stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline. My palms began to sweat as an unpleasant feeling settled in my gut.
I thought I had imagine this.
I looked up, and my heart stopped.
Asao was there.
Amongst the team of doctors, there he stood. He looked different, older, yes, but there was something more. Something about the way he carried himself, the subtle shift in his expression, it wasn’t just time that had changed him.
I had memorized every inch of Asao’s face, every detail of his body, and though I couldn’t immediately place how, I knew with certainty that Asao had changed. And it hit me hard, the weight of it all crashing down on me in that one, fleeting moment.
Crap.
I had hoped, no, prayed, that I would have more time to prepare. Time to come up with a story, some excuse for my disappearance over the past ten years. But no. I had stayed in one place too long, or worse, Asao had sensed me. I could feel those piercing emerald eyes before me even registering that Asao had noticed me.
And then, our eyes locked.
For a brief moment, everything around me seemed to slow down. Asao’s gaze pierced through me, like he was seeing right into my soul. He had the ability to do that, to me at least.
My heart raced, and I didn’t know if it was from the blood loss or the undeniable pull between them. Asao’s gaze shifted, and I instinctively followed it down to my side. My white shirt was soaked in blood.
Before I could process what was happening, the ground beneath me began to shift. My vision blurred, and the world tilted. My knees buckled, and I began to collapse forward. The last thing I saw before the darkness consumed me was Asao’s face, wide eyed with shock and concern. I managed a sly, weak smile, trying to mask the pain, but Asao didn’t return it.
And as I lost consciousness, I couldn’t help but bet that the expression, haunted and unsure, will linger long after the darkness claimed me.
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Asao POV
After finishing my rounds and checking on my patients, I headed to the locker room to change. The faint sound of chatter reached my ears as a group of doctors walked in, oblivious to my presence.
“Yeah, I heard Mr. Flame is on the bed injured.”
“What? Mr. Flames, like the AK47 doctor who’s doing his fellowship?”
“No, no, thee Mr. Flame, the famous company CEO’s son. You know, FlameWorld?”
“Shit, seriously? How’d he get injured?”
“Who knows, but I heard there’s insane security around the VIP floor.”
“Whoa…”
I lingered for a moment, partially because I was curious about what they were saying, and partly because I’ve always been somewhat entertained by the nicknames the interns come up with for me. “AK47” had become a staple after I completed my residency, and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It wasn’t a bad nickname, especially since it reminded me of the great Russian basketball player, Andrei Kirilenko. AK for his initials, and 47 for his jersey number. I liked the association.
But that wasn’t the issue right now. No, the problem was much deeper.
The problem was that he was here.
Dusanek.
My ex boyfriend from ten years ago. And now, of all times, here he was. Blood drenched, barely conscious, his body a shell of the person I once knew. The emotions I thought I’d buried years ago crashed over me in waves, overwhelming me in ways I hadn’t prepared for.
I could feel my hands trembling, my heart racing. I had spent so many years shoving all those memories down, trying to forget the way I felt when he disappeared. I had moved on, or so I thought, but seeing him like this... seeing him again... it brought everything rushing back. The pain, the love, the betrayal. All of it. The shock of those emotions fighting to come to the surface after a decade of keeping them locked away enraged me.
It pissed me off. Why now? After all this time, all it took was one look our eyes meeting and it was like nothing had changed. The years between us dissolved in an instant, and everything came back like a flood, leaving me struggling to keep my footing.
Fucking bastard!
He wasn’t just going to waltz back into my life as if nothing had happened. No, I’d make him pay for the years of silence, for the hurt he caused. The anger and hatred that had built up over the past decade boiled inside me. Yet, despite all that, despite the rage, I still found myself drawn toward him. I had to check on him.
The last thing I remembered was his sly smile, the kind that always got under my skin.
I never bothered to ask Dusanek what his family did, or what his father’s business was. It didn’t matter to me then. I was just content being with him, or at least I thought I was. If it was something important, someone would have told me eventually. But I never cared to ask, ignorance was bliss, right?
But now, as my legs moved on their own, guiding me toward the elevator, I wasn’t so sure. My thumbprint was scanned as I pressed the button for the VIP floor. This elevator was a secure one, only accessible to those with proper authorization, meant for the elite floors of the hospital. No one could get up there unless the system approved it, and I could tell the security was tight.
When the elevator doors opened, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The interns had been right. The security on this floor was heavy. I couldn’t help but wonder, was this what it was like for a president?
I nodded with a smile to one of the front desk nurses, trying to appear casual, as I made my way toward his room. Room 507. It was one of the elite VIP suites, the kind that could easily be mistaken for a mini apartment rather than a hospital room.
People with money, like Dusanek, always wanted to feel at ease, even in a place as sterile as a hospital. And I’d learned by now that they’d pay a fortune for that comfort.
As I stood there in front of the door, I couldn’t help but think about how ridiculous it was. The idea of spending so much money just to feel comfortable it made no sense. Comfort should be something everyone could find, no price tag required.
But before I could knock, I hesitated. I stood there for too long, caught in my own thoughts, and I was starting to feel like I didn’t belong. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him, one of the security men approaching me.
“Doctor, is there something I can help you with?” he asked, his tone polite but firm.
I froze for a moment, a wave of anxiety creeping in. What was I doing here? What was I even planning to say if I got inside? The thought of facing him again, of seeing him in that hospital bed, filled me with a mixture of emotions that I couldn’t even begin to sort through.
He should be awake by now, right? I kept my eyes fixed on the door, unable to tear my gaze away. The guard standing next to me was fading into the background, his presence no longer mattered. I could feel something pulling me forward, an invisible force that seemed to compel my every movement.
I took a step, then another, my body moving almost against my will. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I had to get closer to that door. My heart pounded in my chest, its rhythm louder than anything else, as if it, too, were guiding me forward. The door handle was within reach now, and with every step I took, I felt the pull becoming stronger.
“Doctor,” the security guard spoke again, his voice stern, his posture rigid. “I’m asking again.”
I didn’t even glance at him. My eyes were locked on the door, determined, unwavering. I couldn’t stop now.
I didn’t know what possessed me, but I snapped, the words escaping before I could fully think them through.
“Tell him I’m the ghost of his past.”
The guard hesitated, probably unsure of what to make of my response. He glanced at me, then asked, “What’s your name?”
I tightened my lips into a thin line, the bitterness rising inside me like a tide. I raised the corner of my mouth in a half-smile that was anything but friendly. Contempt. I showed him that, and more.
“Dr. Flame,” I said, emphasizing the name with a subtle bite. I didn’t change my last name, but over the years, people had developed the annoying habit of forgetting the “s” in Flames. I hoped he’d make the connection, think we were brothers, or even... lovers.
The guard seemed to take the bait. He spoke into his earpiece, his expression stiffening as he processed the information. Moments later, he stepped aside and let me pass.
I moved quickly now, almost as if my body couldn’t wait to reach him. I stepped up to the door, my hand reaching for the handle without hesitation. I turned it slowly, the creak of the door sounding far too loud in the quiet room.
And then I saw him.
Dusanek.
He was lying in the bed, looking completely unfazed, bored even, as he stared at the TV screen. But as soon as he turned his head toward me, those grey eyes locked onto mine, and the world seemed to stop. There we were, standing in the same room, after all this time.
I stood there in silence, no words coming to my lips. The flood of emotions surged within me, anger, love, betrayal. I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t want to.
There was something about him that made me feel whole again. He was like a mirror of everything I had once been, everything I had lost. And yet, he had abandoned me for ten years. All those nights alone, crying, aching for him. All those years spent lying in an empty bed, my heart starving for something I couldn’t have. I had buried it all deep within me, numb to the pain. But now, seeing him again… feeling the heat from his gaze, I felt the cold layers of my heart begin to thaw.
I hated it. I fucking hated it.
He had this power over me, a power I couldn’t shake. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. And here he was, standing before me, effortlessly pulling me back into the mess of emotions I had fought so hard to bury.
Dusanek grimaced as he sat up, wincing in pain. He was the first to break the silence.
“Hi,” he said, his voice soft, almost tentative.
I could feel the weight of everything hanging in the air between us. But before I could say anything, a man entered the room, and I recognized him immediately. It was the same man who Dusanek had helped carry of the helicopter.
He shouldn’t be out of bed. What the hell was he doing here?
“Dus, your father is requesting for us to attend the meeting in two days. What do...” His words trail off as he suddenly notices me standing there.
“Sorry, didn’t know you had company,” he said, his tone apologetic.
Dusanek, ever the instigator, shot me a sheepish smirk. “JV, meet Asao...or Dr. Asao Flames.” I could feel my jaw tighten, my hand curling into a fist inside my white coat pockets. The smirk was driving me crazy, and the urge to wipe it off his face almost made me speak. But I kept my mouth shut and nodded curtly instead.
I glanced back at Dusanek, only to find his eyes still trained on me, as if waiting for some reaction. He didn’t need to say it, but he did anyway. “He’s a good friend. Nothing more.”
Why the hell would I care? I knew him or used to, or thought I did, anyway. It was just his way of trying to provoke a reaction out of me. So, instead of saying anything, I focused on reading his chart in my hands, pretending to be absorbed in it.
“The silent treatment, huh? I get it.” Dusanek’s voice was soft but teasing.
Then came the question I knew was coming: “How... how do you guys know each other again?”
I wasn’t expecting my curiosity to be piqued, but something about his tone made me want to hear his response. I felt Dusanek’s gaze on me, and I could almost feel the satisfaction in his eyes as he answered.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
The words hit me harder than I expected, but I didn’t show it. A split second later, JV rushed out of the room, his footsteps quick and panicked.
“Oh. I’ll come back another time,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable.
I couldn’t help but wonder did he leave because he found out Dusanek was gay? Or did he already know, but not about me? How close were they?
friends. So he said. As he once questioned me calling Jaden my brother. How loosely does he use that term?
The door closed behind JV, and the room was suddenly silent again, just Dusanek and me. He wasn’t going to let this moment pass without digging a little deeper.
“You’ve been staring at that chart for a while now,” Dusanek said, his voice sharp. “Is there something I should know? An illness I haven’t been told about?”
I shot him a glare that could have burned a hole in him, but I didn’t say a word. Instead, I put the chart back where it belonged and turned to leave.
Seeing him again, feeling the tension between us, it was like taking an antidote. A temporary one, I told myself, until I could finally rid myself of the lingering feelings for him.
Note: Sentences in italics means that they’re thinking/thoughts it’s in their head. 💭💭
