"Hey," Ray attempted to speak, but his voice ca out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible. Frustration flared within him as he struggled to find the words, his throat feeling like sandpaper. Just as he was about to call for soone, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.
"Easy there," Ryan said, his voice steady and soothing. Without waiting for Ray to respond, he quickly maneuvered around the bed, moving with a practiced urgency that spoke of familiarity with his brother’s condition.
"Here, let help you sit up," Ryan said, his tone firm yet gentle. He wrapped an arm around Ray’s shoulders, carefully helping him into a sitting position. As soon as Ray’s back made contact with the headboard, a jolt of pain shot through him, as if his spine were breaking under the pressure.
"Damn," Ray gasped, gritting his teeth as he felt the discomfort radiate from his lower back. It was a raw, unrelenting pain that made him wince. He could barely process the throbbing sensation that seed to echo through his entire body.
"Just breathe," Ryan urged, maintaining a steady grip on his brother to keep him steady. Despite the pain etched across Ray’s face, Ryan’s expression was unfazed, revealing a determination to help him recover. He quickly moved to the bedside table, pouring a glass of warm water and returning to Ray’s side.
"Here," Ryan said, passing the glass to him with steady hands. "Take a sip. It’ll help."
Ray nodded gratefully, bringing the glass to his lips. The warmth of the water was comforting, soothing his sore throat. He took a careful sip, letting the liquid wash over his parched throat, feeling the warmth spread through him.
"Thanks," Ray murmured, his voice still weak but a bit stronger now. He handed the empty glass back to Ryan, who set it aside before reaching for a soft cloth.
"Let help with your back," Ryan said, his tone softening as he placed the cloth against Ray’s back, pressing it gently to provide so relief. The warmth radiating from the cloth contrasted sharply with the aching pain, a small comfort amidst the discomfort.
Ray leaned back slightly, allowing Ryan to adjust the cloth. "I didn’t an to worry you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Don’t sweat it," Ryan replied, his gaze unwavering. "Just focus on getting better. You’ve been through a lot." His words were infused with a sense of brotherly protectiveness, and Ray felt a flicker of warmth in his chest at the sight of his brother’s unwavering support.
But it was only when Ray’s eyes fell on the side mirror fixed in the room that reality crashed down around him. As he turned his head slightly, he caught a glimpse of his reflection, and dread pooled in his stomach. The vivid red marks across his neck were glaringly obvious, stark against his pale skin. His eyes, still red from crying, seed to echo the turmoil within him. mories of last night flooded back—monts of overwhelming pleasure, his moans escaping him as if he had lost all control.
In a panic, he pulled the blanket over his head, wishing it could swallow him whole. How could he face Ryan like this? Sha coursed through him, painting his cheeks a deep crimson. He felt utterly exposed, and his heart raced as he tried to calm his frayed nerves.
Ryan, on the other hand, remained composed. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his deanor indifferent. He surveyed Ray’s distress without a hint of concern or amusent. "You’re not going to stay under there forever, are you?" he asked, his voice flat, almost bored.
Ray’s heart raced. He dared to peek out from the blanket, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I look terrible." The words tumbled out, tinged with embarrassnt.
"Terrible?" Ryan replied, shrugging. "It’s just a few marks. They’ll fade." His calmness only made Ray feel more vulnerable. How could he be so unaffected by this?
"I can’t show my face like this," Ray muttered, hiding deeper beneath the blanket, his voice muffled but laced with frustration.
Ryan sighed, his patience seemingly wearing thin. "Well, you should put so cream on those marks. Since it’s your first ti, I imagine you’re feeling sore." His tone remained even, lacking any hint of sympathy or understanding.
Ray’s face burned at the suggestion, a mix of embarrassnt and discomfort coursing through him. "You want to just... apply cream like it’s no big deal? I can’t believe I look like this in front of you!" The panic in his voice rose, making his embarrassnt feel even more acute.
Ryan remained indifferent, his expression unchanged. "It’s part of life. You’ll get over it." He paused, giving Ray a mont to digest his words. "Just focus on taking care of yourself."
Ray felt his cheeks heat further, a mix of sha and frustration boiling inside him. "How can you be so calm about this? This is my life we’re talking about!" He tried to keep his voice steady but felt the cracks of vulnerability breaking through.
"Because it’s not a big deal," Ryan replied, his voice even and collected.
Ryan continued, his voice calm and indifferent. "Anyway, I’m here as your doctor. You see, your wife pays quite well." He flashed a professional smile at Ray, one that felt both condescending and detached, as if this were just another routine task for him.
Seeing that smug smile, Ray’s embarrassnt turned into frustration. He really wanted to beat these two fools—Ryan for his calm arrogance and Es for even involving him in this. His face flushed as he snatched the cream from Ryan’s hand, growling through gritted teeth, "Get lost from here."
Ryan, however, rely shook his head, his expression unbothered. "No, of course not. I can’t leave just yet." He stepped back, folding his arms with a smirk.
"You see, the client has already paid. I need to ensure that everything is... properly taken care of." His words dripped with professional nonchalance, but Ray could feel the teasing undercurrent that made him even more furious.
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