Chapter 6 

Ocean to Land

Seojun stood a little apart with the captain, his eyes drifting back toward the cabin.

“I’ll check on him,” he said, as he had all day. He never stayed away for long—only a few minutes at most.

It was already evening when he stepped back into the cabin.

Haejun hadn’t moved. Still asleep.

But something was wrong.

Seojun frowned and reached out, pressing the back of his hand against the young man’s forehead.

Hot.

Too hot.

His body burned beneath his touch, yet he shivered, as if he couldn’t stop shaking.

Seojun’s expression tightened. He pulled the blanket back just enough to check the wound. The skin around it had darkened, swollen slightly. Infected.

A flicker of worry crossed his face. He explained everything to the captain.

The older man frowned at the severity of the fever and carefully administered an injection to fight the infection.

“Stay with him tonight,” the captain said. “If his temperature drops too much after the fever breaks, he might get dangerously cold from the blood loss and this infection.”

Seojun nodded.

He returned to the cabin and sat beside the bed, watching the young man carefully. He dipped a cloth in water and gently wiped the sweat from his face and neck, then pressed the damp cloth lightly against his forehead.

Slowly, after some time, the fever began to fall. The redness faded from his skin, returning to its pale color. His breathing steadied.

But once the fever passed, another problem appeared, just as the captain had warned: the stranger’s body became cold.

The captain came to check on him and sighed.

“You should lie next to him,” he suggested.

Seojun glanced at the sleeping stranger.

“You do remember he already tried to bite me, right? If he wakes up this close, I might lose an ear.”

The captain chuckled softly. “He won’t wake up tonight. Stay with him. Body heat is more stable than the heater, and he needs steady warmth right now.”

Seojun swallowed, his chest tightening. He knew the stranger would never allow anyone this close if he were awake. And yet, right now, warmth was more important than caution.

Carefully, he peeled the damp shirt off the stranger, making sure not to twist his injured back. After a brief hesitation, he removed his own t-shirt and climbed onto the bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He pulled the blanket over both of them.

The moment their bodies touched, Seojun’s heart thumped fast. Haejun’s skin was colder than he expected. His shoulders tensed for a moment, goosebumps prickling his arms, and a shiver ran down his spine. Slowly, he relaxed and pulled him closer, sharing warmth as gently as he could.

He found himself watching him for a moment. This was the first time he had seen him this close without panic or struggle. Faint bruises lined his cheekbone, and small scratches marred his skin, no longer bleeding but still visible. His gaze lingered on the fine lines of his lips, then moved to the faint marks on his neck and shoulders. He looked fragile, nothing like the wild, panicked creature from before.

Carefully, Seojun brushed damp strands of hair from Haejun’s forehead, careful not to wake him. The faint weight against his chest made it hard to move away. He could feel each rise and fall of Haejun’s breathing—sometimes steady, sometimes a little strained.

The boat rocked gently, creaking beneath them. Salt and faint iron mingled in the air. Seojun inhaled, feeling the stranger’s fragile warmth seep into him. He wrapped his arm a little tighter, careful yet protective, letting the trembling body settle against his side.

“Don’t die on me,” Seojun murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes, already feeling the pull of sleep.

“And please don’t bite me when you wake up.”

The young man remained unconscious, unaware of the warmth holding him safe through the night.

The first light of dawn touched the cabin. Haejun woke slowly, his body heavy and aching. The first thing he noticed was weight pressing against him—warm, heavy, holding him in place.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes, searching. The hunter was there, lying still beside him. Only then did he notice the weight pressing against his side—an arm wrapped around him.

Panic flickered through him and he tried to pull away, but pain shot through his back and leg, freezing him in place.

His heart thumped faster as he waited for movement, for danger. But the hunter didn’t move. His breathing remained slow and steady, his arm heavy but not tight, not hurting him.

His gaze drifted over the smooth skin pressed against him—soft, warm… a strange, unfamiliar comfort. His own skin tingled at the contact.

Why am I still alive?

And I’m still breathing. Not dead…

Haejun couldn’t trust him. His instincts told him to stay alert, to watch and be ready to fight—but his body was too weak. Half-conscious and exhausted, he let his eyelids close again. The gentle sound of ocean waves lapping against the boat drifted into his ears, steady and familiar. He let the warmth and the quiet rhythm of breathing beside him carry him toward sleep.

By midday, the boat had reached the shore. The ambulance was already waiting. Medical equipment had been loaded onto the boat, and the team carefully lifted Haejun, still half unconscious onto a stretcher. 

Seojun stayed close, his voice low but insistent. “Please… be careful he has many wounds," he urged, glancing at Haejun and the medics.

The medics were focused, moving quickly, checking bandages, swelling, and the injuries that needed immediate attention. They barely glanced at him as Seojun kept asking, voice tight with worry, “Is he going to be okay?.”

Haejun, carried out of the cabin, felt the sudden heat of the sun. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, the strong light pressed against his skin. 

The stretcher shifted beneath him, jostling his wounds; dry air stung his throat as he was lifted and moved quickly from one place to another.

Sensations overwhelmed him, and his body strained to resist, but weakness pinned him down.

Seojun leapt from the deck of the boat and called out, “Talk later, uncle!” to the captain.

He followed the medical team into the ambulance cabin and climbed in beside Haejun. “Please watch his back and legs wounds,” he reminded them as they worked, his voice tight with worry.

The captain stayed on the dock as the ambulance pulled away, eyes following them the whole way. He murmured a quiet wish under his breath. “Good luck, young boy.”

He noticed how Seojun had rushed without hesitation, and a small frown crossed his face—he knew the young man was still raw from his breakup, yet here he was, putting himself fully into caring for another, despite his own heart still aching.

Inside the vehicle, Haejun’s eyes fluttered open. Everything moved too fast. He tried to lift his head, but the world was a blur of shadows and shapes. He could barely see or breathe.

They placed an oxygen mask over Haejun’s face, trying to ease his labored breathing, and started administering a serum. He could feel every movement, every touch, and instinctively wanted to push them away—but his body was too weak. It was the third day of fever, infection, and blood loss. He simply could not fight.

Seojun stayed close, watching intently. “Is the hospital far away?” he asked. “Are his injuries… dangerous?”

One of the medics shook his head. “It looks bad,” he said carefully. “We can’t really tell how deep or serious it is until he’s at the hospital. Once they do scans and a proper examination, you’ll know more.”

Seojun’s stomach tightened. “Hold on,” he murmured. “You’ll be safe once they can take care of you.”

“Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it—stay tuned for what happens next.”