THE ZOESTERY

Recovery + Confession + Tender Romance

Mystery wasn't used to being weak.

He hated the IV tubes. The faint beeping. The bright fluorescent lights in the infirmary.

What he hated more?

The silence when Zoey wasn't there.

But she was.

Every single night since the injury, she'd come.

Sometimes she'd bring books or food.

Sometimes she'd just sit.

Sometimes she'd pretend she wasn't watching over him, but he'd catch her adjusting his blanket. Or wiping his forehead when she thought he was asleep.

Tonight was the fifth night.

And tonight, he decided to speak.

"Hey..." he whispered, voice low and scratchy.

Zoey turned in the chair, startled.

"Oh my gosh—you're awake."

She stood up, nearly tripping on her own foot, and rushed to his side.

"Don't try to sit up," she said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "You're still healing."

"I know," he murmured. His eyes flicked to her hand. "But... you're here."

"I told you I would be."

A pause.

"...Did I say anything? Before I passed out?"

Zoey hesitated.

"You... called me your Moonchild. And said you'd take a thousand wounds for me."

Mystery exhaled, blinking at the ceiling.

"Sounds dramatic. I meant it though."

Zoey laughed softly. "Of course you did."

Then he turned his head and looked straight into her eyes.

"I dreamed... that I was in a field of stars."

Zoey's breath caught.

"And in that dream, I wasn't hurting. I wasn't a demon hunter. I wasn't afraid of anything. I was just... someone. Normal."

He paused.

"And you were there."

Zoey blinked. "Me?"

"You were wearing white," he said softly. "And you were smiling. Not like during performances. Not like on livestreams. You looked free."

"...What was I doing?"

Mystery gave the smallest smile.

"You were reaching out your hand. You told me... 'Stay this time.' And I did."

Zoey sat down on the edge of the bed, slowly, carefully.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "That's why I came back."

She reached up and brushed his hair from his face, fingertips trembling.

"You idiot," she whispered.

"Your idiot," he corrected gently.

They smiled.

Then both burst into laughter, soft and tired and full of relief.

Zoey leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Get better soon, okay?"

He closed his eyes, breathing in the moment.

"I will. For you."

He came back from the edge.

Not for the mission.

Not for the fame.

But for the girl who waited through the silence. 💫🩹