The Greatest Showman #1467 - Only if you see it for the first time

Renly opened his eyes, gradually returning from fantasy to reality, from darkness to light. His body was drenched in sweat, as if he had just been pulled out of water. The exhaustion in his muscles mirrored the profound weariness in his soul, yet he felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

It was the first time since his rebirth that he felt this way.

A laugh escaped him, bright and sincere despite the tears and embarrassment that clung to him. He laughed freely—like a child, pure, simple, and unguarded.

Then, the pain began to set in. Muscle soreness, the throbbing ache of his wounds, washed over him, magnified under the strain of extreme sensitivity. It felt like his head was splitting open, as if two invisible forces were pulling at his brain.

But it was all real.

After days of intense, relentless work, his body had reached its limit, yet he kept pushing, each step dragging him further into exhaustion. For the past two days, Renly had been running a low fever, but he hadn't told anyone. He knew that if Andy and Roy found out, the crew would demand a break. He couldn't afford that. Now, every movement felt like it took every ounce of his energy.

Despite the overwhelming discomfort, it felt... delicious, a sour, refreshing sensation that was hard to describe.

Renly needed to rest, just for a moment.

He had been leaning against the wall, lost in thought, but now, he had to stand. Slowly, he turned, searching for a place to lie down. His knees buckled, and his feet stumbled. He tripped on a chair and nearly fell.

In that moment, a figure appeared behind him. Someone stepped forward, their shoulder pressing against his own, preventing him from falling.

Through blurred vision, Renly saw a slender figure. Despite the woman's best efforts, she was unable to support his weight, stumbling backward and falling onto the couch with him.

Renly slumped into the sofa, exhaustion overwhelming him. Soon, nausea surged again, and he shut his eyes tightly, fighting the urge to vomit. The deep, noble upbringing that had shaped him this life fought against the confusion between fantasy and reality, but the turmoil in his stomach only made everything clearer.

"Renly? Renly! Are you alright?"

The voice was filled with concern, panic flickering in the tone.

Though Renly kept his eyes shut, he immediately recognized the voice. A warm feeling surged in his chest. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found Rooney standing before him, her usual cold expression replaced by visible worry. Her brows furrowed in a slight, rare sign of softness.

Renly chuckled faintly, though his voice came out low and muffled, his smile still unable to fully form. His eyes, however, held a hint of relief. "This doesn't look like you."

Since their first meeting, Rooney had always been reserved and composed. Even during the filming of Gravity, she had never shown any sign of vulnerability. The Rooney in front of him now seemed almost foreign.

She paused, as if caught off guard, and then quickly recovered. "You're right," she said with a wry smile. "You look nothing like yourself either. So in an emergency, maybe don't get caught up in the details."

Renly's appearance was far from the graceful image of an aristocrat. He looked like a disheveled mess, too weary to maintain even the most basic etiquette, let alone the dignity of a gentleman.

"Wait, are you still in Andrew's state?" Rooney asked, though she knew it wasn't true. Andrew was never someone to joke in this manner; he was a man easily broken by love, career, and family.

Renly gave a weak laugh. His attempt to smile failed miserably, his exhaustion taking its toll.

Rooney noticed how unfamiliar and raw Renly seemed now, as if every defense and mask had fallen away. The emotions, the weariness, the pain—everything was exposed without reservation.

"I'll be right back," she said, turning and leaving the room quickly.

Renly let his eyelids droop again. He needed rest, but sleep wasn't an option right now. He had to force himself to stay awake, to keep his mind sharp.

Rooney returned soon after, holding a glass of water with a straw in it. She knelt beside him and gently offered it to his lips. "You've lost a lot of water and salt. Take small sips and rest a bit. You might feel better after a while."

She carefully positioned the straw against his lips so he could drink, but Renly's headache flared again, and he could feel his muscles twitching with the tension in his body. Despite the effort, he managed to drink a third of the water, but his weariness didn't fade. He closed his eyes once more, fighting the urge to give in to the nausea rising in his stomach.

Rooney wiped the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth, her touch gentle and comforting. The pressure on his forehead brought a brief moment of relief, and Renly couldn't help but sigh in comfort.

Opening his eyes, he saw Rooney's concerned gaze focused on him, her expression tender and filled with care.

The warmth between them lingered in the quiet space. Without a word, Rooney continued tending to him, her movements gentle and deliberate. The tension in the air seemed to melt as they shared this silent moment together.

After a long silence, Renly whispered softly, "Can you stay with me for a while? I just need to close my eyes."

Without hesitation, Rooney sat down next to him. She didn't speak, only offering her presence, her quiet support as Renly drifted into a light, restless slumber.

Her heart ached, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. She wiped away a tear that had slipped from her eye, unsure if Renly had noticed. For what felt like an eternity, she remained by his side, time itself seeming to pause in that moment of stillness.