desire, BONTEN X READER

°˖✧˚ ♡ʚ fourteen ɞ♡˚✧˖°.

The Bonten leader lay unmoving on the bed, his thin frame making him look vulnerable. He looked underweight, and the dark bags under his eyes suggested that he may not have slept or eaten for days. You felt a sense of concern as you looked at him, wondering what had happened to him and what you could do to help him.

You gently held his arm and cleaned the area thoroughly with alcohol to prevent infection. You then connected the arm to the serum, hoping that it would provide him with the nourishment and energy he needed without eating.

As you worked, you couldn't help but notice his cold skin and the eerie scent that filled the room. It was a smell that you couldn't quite place, yet it filled you with a sense of foreboding. The leader's unnatural state made you nervous, but you tried to push past it and focus on the task at hand.

Trying to adjust the IV drip stand to ensure that the medication drips steadily, you turned your back to him, focused on the task at hand.

You were caught off-guard when you felt a tight grip on your wrist, and you cried out in pain. It was a sensation that was difficult to describe, almost like the touch of a hot summer that still managed to freeze your soul.

His frame was thin but his grip was strong, and your stress level reached a new high. He sat up, changing his position to sit closer to you, with his other hand still handcuffed to the bed.

You tensed up, feeling overwhelmed. You didn't know what to do, not daring to turn around and face him. His sudden movements sent shivers down your spine, and your heart was pounding.

"Where am I?" he finally spoke, his tone so detached that it left you feeling uneasy.

His voice lacked any trace of emotion, and his grip on your wrist tightened further, causing you to wince in pain and bite your lip to hold back a cry.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady and neutral as you answered,
"You've fainted, and they brought you to the nursery room."

You did your best to keep your breathing even, but your heart was pounding with fear, and you could feel his gaze on you, even though your back was facing him.

You slowly turned to face him, gathering all your courage. "And I have to take care of you until you feel better," you said, maintaining a neutral tone, despite how terrified you felt.

He paused for a moment, looking at you intently, as if he was trying to gauge your intentions, examining your face with intense scrutiny. You could see a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but then his gaze softened,, his gaze dropped, and he released your wrist, the tension draining from your body.

Relief flooded you. You couldn't help but notice, though, that there was something about him, a melancholy that resonated from him, seeping into the air. You tried to ignore it, but it was hard to miss.

You picked up the item from your desk, turning back to face him, only to see that he was still sitting on the bed, staring down at the ground and not moving. His peaceful demeanor made him seem unassuming, and it was difficult to believe that he was the leader of the most dangerous criminal organization. Something about him seemed off, and you couldn't quite put your finger on it, leaving you feeling confused.

You knew that you needed to ask him about his well-being, it was a part of the protocol. But each time you gathered the courage to speak up, the words stuck in your throat, and you swallowed them back down. The act of holding back your questions was starting to physically hurt you. It was as if there was a wall between the two of you, preventing you from crossing over and asking the questions you needed to ask.

Gathering all of your courage, you approached him and took a deep breath before speaking. "How many meals did you skip?" you asked, your voice soft and low.

He lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes for a passing moment before casting them back down. "I don't remember," he said, his voice tinged with apathy.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at his words. It was clear that he had skipped more meals than any person should, and yet he didn't even seem to care. Placing your hands on your thighs, you looked around for a moment before shifting your attention back to him, biting your lip in concern

"I know that the food isn't great, but not eating for days can be seriously detrimental to your health. You fainted today, but the next time you might experience something even more severe, like organ failure. So please, for your own safety, I implore you to start eating," you said, your voice conveying both firmness and compassion.

He nodded, a small nod, but it was enough to show that he understood what you were saying.

You sighed in frustration, feeling helpless in the face of his stubbornness. You didn't know how to make him understand the seriousness of his condition, and it was clear that he didn't want to talk about it.

Your eyes widened as realization dawned on you, and a small smile played on your lips. You hopped off the chair, swiftly crossing the room to your desk, and rummaged through your bag. After a few moments of digging, your hand clasped on the object you'd been searching for. You lifted your prize, a small box with a brownish hue and a simple logo on it.

Excitedly, you strode back towards him, holding out the precious box for him to grasp. "Take this," you urged, the box inches away from his face. He hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before gingerly taking the box you'd offered. Carefully he opened it, taking a few long seconds to process what lay within. But when it finally clicked, you could've sworn you saw stars shine in his eyes.

He looks back at you, probably wondering why you'd given him all of these.

"Eat those, you need energy." you say, with a little smile on your face.

With your mission completed, you sat back and watched as he eagerly dug into the pastries. As he consumed each bite, you felt a sense of accomplishment, proud of your efforts to coax him into nourishing himself. His mood visibly improved, and the tension in the room began to dissipate.

He didn't say anything, too focused on the task of devouring the delicious snacks. But you could see the gratitude in his eyes every time he looked at you. It was a small victory, but it felt like a big one nevertheless.

The box that had been full of pastries just a few moments ago now lay empty, with only a few crumbs left to remind you of the meal that had taken place. He said nothing for a moment, seemingly lost in his thoughts, before he finally spoke.

"...Thank you," he said, his voice quiet and measured. As he looked away, you noticed that he seemed flustered, and it clicked that him saying thank you was a rare event, one that held more weight than you had initially realized.

You stood up, making your way towards the medical stand where you kept the various medications and medical equipment. As you did so, you began to explain, "Don't skip your meals ever again, okay?" You didn't expect much from him, but you still made it your mission to ensure that he got the nutrients he needed to stay healthy.

As you approached him, you held out the small, yellow container containing the vitamin sachet for him to swallow. "Take this," you urged him, your tone firm but not unkind. "It's important for you to get all the vitamins and minerals you need."

He took the vitamins from your hand without a word, popping them into his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"And if you do as I say, I promise you, I'll find an excuse to meet you and I'll give you the tastiest of the pastries," you finished as you gathered up the empty box, taking it over to the trash bin and depositing it inside.

His gaze softened as you spoke, and his voice gained a firmness that you hadn't heard before, as he finally responded,

"I'll do as you say, ma'am."