I've Come To The Realization That My Last Story Depicted Self-harm, Which May Be Triggering To Some Of

i've come to the realization that my last story depicted self-harm, which may be triggering to some of you, so i'd like to apologize. i'd like to continue by saying a few words, because it's one of those nights and, who knows, maybe someone out there needs to hear it. life is so cruel and yet so fleeting, and we never really know how or what to cherish until it's taken away from us. if you feel that times are rough, that life is putting you through hell, that you're being suffocated and have no other way out, i promise you do. i promise whatever it is that's killing you, ruining your appetite, making you cry, tearing you apart, it will pass. i promise whatever it is that makes you feel like harming yourself will ease the pain, will pass. you were given this life to experience all the good and all the bad, please don't give up just because you've reached the bad. i promise that your ending, too, will be a happy one. i love each and every single one of you. if you feel that your absence won't matter to anybody, you're wrong. it will matter to people you don't even know, including me. so, please, if you're struggling and can't bring yourself to seek professional help, talk to me. i will talk to each and every single one of you, because you all shine brighter than any of the stars in the sky. i love every single one of you.

heartbeat (심장박동) — jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

the dawn broke with a gentle caress across the landscape, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills and lush valleys. the sun, a celestial artist, painted the sky in strokes of pink and orange, reflecting its light upon the dew-kissed leaves of ancient trees. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming cherry blossoms that danced in the soft breeze, their delicate petals fluttering like whispers of spring’s embrace. birds sang a symphony of melodies, their harmonious notes merging with the rustling of leaves, creating an orchestra of natural beauty that celebrated the beginning of a new day.

yet, this serene tableau of nature stood in stark contrast to the scene of devastation that unfolded in its wake. the earth had groaned and heaved, unleashing its wrath upon the serene landscape. an earthquake, a violent tremor of nature’s own making, had shattered the tranquility. the ground had buckled and cracked, splitting roads into jagged scars and toppling buildings that once stood as symbols of human achievement. streets were strewn with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, and splintered wood—forming a chaotic mosaic of destruction. the once-proud skyline was now marred by the skeletal remains of what had been homes and businesses. in the aftermath, smoke and dust hung in the air like a mournful shroud, obscuring the sun’s light and turning the beautiful morning into a somber canvas of ruin.

you had graduated from medical school that day. it was meant to be a day of celebration, a milestone achieved after years of relentless study and sacrifice. the ceremony had been a blur of proud smiles, academic robes, and congratulatory embraces. but the elation of that moment was short-lived, overshadowed by the impending catastrophe. you had planned to share the joy with your sister, who had been your pillar of strength through the trials and tribulations of medical school. she was your everything—the constant in your life, the one who had stood by you with unwavering support.

as you made your way home, your heart swelled with excitement at the thought of celebrating your achievement together. but when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. your home, once a haven of comfort and warmth, was now reduced to a heap of rubble. the realization struck you like a physical blow. there was no home. there was no sister. the world, which had seemed so vibrant and full of promise, was now an unrecognizable wasteland.

desperation drove you to search through the debris, your hands tearing through the wreckage with frantic determination. hours felt like an eternity as you sifted through the shattered remnants of your life. and then, amidst the ruins, you found her. she lay among the debris, her face pale and her breaths shallow. she was barely alive, her fragile form a haunting reminder of the day’s cruel turn of events. you rushed her to the nearest hospital, a frantic and disheveled figure, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon you. the hospital, too, bore the scars of the earthquake. the once orderly hallways were now chaotic, filled with the injured and the desperate. nurses and doctors moved with frantic efficiency, their faces marked by exhaustion and determination. you clung to the hope that she would recover, that the skilled hands of the medical professionals could restore her to health.

days passed in a haze of worry and sleepless nights. you watched and waited, your heartache mingling with hope. and then, the blow came. you were informed that your sister had passed away. the news struck you like a dagger, but the explanation that followed shattered you further. she had not died from her wounds or the effects of the earthquake but from a medical error. The very system you had dedicated your life to had failed her.

the gravity of the situation was almost too much to bear. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing in as the weight of your grief and anger grew heavier. you felt a profound sense of betrayal, the very institution meant to save lives had failed you and your sister. it was a cruel irony, the culmination of your dream to be the best doctor, only to be faced with the harsh reality of its imperfections. in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow, a fire ignited within you—a resolve born of pain and loss. you vowed to honor your sister’s memory by dedicating yourself to medicine with an unyielding commitment to prevent such errors. it was a promise made in the darkest of times, a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage of your dreams.

the operating room was a sanctuary of focused intensity. the sterile, clinical environment buzzed with a sense of urgency as doctor jung hoseok, one of the best surgeons in the hospital, prepared for yet another high-stakes surgery. the cacophony of beeping monitors, the rhythmic whoosh of ventilators, and the murmur of medical staff created a symphony of controlled chaos.

you stood by hoseok’s side, your heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and determination. your hands were steady but your mind was a whirlwind, knowing the weight of responsibility that rested on everyone’s shoulders. the patient on the table, a young man in his early twenties, had sustained severe internal injuries from a collapsing building. Hoseok’s calm, authoritative presence was a beacon of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

“scalpel,” his voice cut through the tension, his tone clipped and precise. you handed him the instrument with practiced ease, watching as his skilled fingers moved with a deftness born of years of experience.

the surgery was a dance of precision and skill. he navigated through the intricate web of damaged organs with an expertise that left you in awe. his movements were a blend of grace and efficiency, every incision, every stitch, a testament to his dedication and mastery.

“clamps,” he called out, his gaze never leaving the patient. you quickly provided the tools, your own focus unwavering despite the mounting exhaustion. the room was hot, the smell of antiseptic mingling with the acrid tang of blood. as the surgery reached its climax, his expression remained a mask of concentration. the minutes stretched into hours as he worked tirelessly to stabilize the patient. you wiped sweat from your brow, your heart pounding as you held your breath, praying for a successful outcome.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, hoseok lifted his gaze, a weary but triumphant smile playing at the corners of his lips. “we did it,” he said, his voice carrying a note of relief. the patient’s vital signs stabilized, a small but significant victory amidst the overwhelming despair of the day.

but the triumph was short-lived. as you and hoseok stepped out of the operating room, you were greeted by the grim reality of the hospital’s waiting area. the scene was chaotic, filled with an overwhelming number of patients, their faces etched with pain and fear. the earthquake’s aftermath had left a trail of devastation, and the hospital was a crucible of suffering. you let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. hoseok placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “we need to work as efficiently as we can,” he said, his tone steady and encouraging. “every moment counts.”

nodding, you moved swiftly through the maze of makeshift beds and emergency stations. the injured and the ill were everywhere—some lying on stretchers, others sitting in the narrow aisles, waiting for care. the sight was heart-wrenching, and you fought to keep your composure.

then, you spotted her—a young girl, no more than eight or nine, her face streaked with tears. she was clinging desperately to her coat, her small frame shaking with sobs. her wide, frightened eyes and the way she clutched at her coat stirred a profound sense of deja vu within you. she reminded you so much of your sister, and the resemblance was almost unbearable. you approached her gently, crouching down to her level. “hey, sweetheart,” you said softly, trying to mask the lump in your throat. “what’s your name?”

“jiwoo,” she sniffled, her voice trembling. “i want my mommy.” your heart ached as you lifted her into your arms, her tiny body trembling against you. “it’s gonna be okay,” you murmured, holding her close. “we’re gonna find your mommy, alright?” her cries were muffled against your coat as you walked with her through the bustling corridors. the sights and sounds of the injured—wounded soldiers, distressed families, and patients in various states of trauma—flashed by in a blur. each face you passed seemed to tell a story of suffering and hope, and the intensity of the scene made your stomach churn.

you guided jiwoo to the examination room, where a nurse greeted you with a warm but tired smile. “thank you,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude. “please, take good care of her.” the nurse nodded, taking her into her care, and you watched as the little girl’s gaze followed you with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. as you turned to leave, you felt a deep pang of sorrow and a renewed sense of purpose. each patient you saw, each story of survival and pain, was a reminder of why you had chosen this path.

the chaos of the hospital continued unabated as the hours dragged on, each moment marked by the relentless tide of patients streaming in from the aftermath of the earthquake. the corridors were a cacophony of urgent voices, desperate cries, and the clatter of medical equipment. hoseok moved among the chaos with a calm determination, his eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of resolve and weariness.

he paused briefly, his gaze taking in the grim reality of the situation. “we need to help everyone,” he said, his voice tinged with a fierce, unwavering conviction. “i want to, no, i need to help everyone.” his words were not just a declaration but a deep-seated promise that seemed to radiate from his very core. you understood the gravity of his statement all too well. the hospital, with its limited space and resources, was barely able to keep up with the flood of casualties. but his commitment was palpable, a beacon of hope amidst the stark limitations of the facilities. his eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were now shadowed with a mixture of exhaustion and unyielding resolve.

“i promise you,” you said, matching his fervor with your own. “we will find a way to help as many people as we can.” your words were a pledge, born of the same fierce determination that drove him. his tired eyes softened with gratitude as he offered you a fleeting smile. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the fatigue that marked his features.

the moment of camaraderie was abruptly shattered by the anguished screams of a man. your head snapped towards the sound, your heart racing. a middle-aged man was crawling on the floor, his leg grotesquely open and bleeding profusely. his face was contorted with pain, and his cries cut through the din of the hospital like a knife. without a second thought, you and hoseok sprang into action. he barked orders with a commanding authority that drew the attention of nearby staff, and you quickly moved to assist. together, you helped load the man onto a stretcher, your hands working with a practiced urgency.

as the stretcher was wheeled away, you couldn't help but be struck by the sight. the man’s injury, so raw and brutal, mirrored the vision of your sister in the hospital’s aftermath. it was a harsh reminder of the fragility of life and the brutal reality of trauma. the sight made your knees buckle, a wave of nausea and grief crashing over you. before you could fully react, hoseok’s firm grip was on your arms. his touch was grounding, a lifeline amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “pull yourself together,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “everything will be fine. we’re here to help.”

his words were a balm to your frayed nerves, and you blinked away the tears that had begun to well up in your eyes. you took a deep breath, drawing strength from his presence and the urgency of the situation. “i’m okay,” you said, nodding with determination. “i’ll be okay.”

his gaze remained fixed on you for a moment longer, his expression a blend of concern and encouragement. then, with a decisive nod, he turned back to the chaos of the hospital, his focus unshaken. you followed him, your resolve steeled. the sight of the injured and the suffering no longer overwhelmed you but fueled your determination. each patient, each cry for help, was a call to action—a reminder of why you had chosen this path and why you would continue to fight against the odds.

the hospital’s corridors were a maze of urgent activity, and you moved through them with a focused intensity, guided by the steady presence of hoseok. the once immaculate walls were now splattered with the harsh realities of an earthquake’s aftermath, the floors slick with spilled fluids and the air thick with the acrid scent of antiseptic and exhaustion.

the first patient you approached was an elderly woman with a fractured arm and a deep gash on her forehead. her eyes, though tired and pained, reflected a resilience that touched you deeply. you carefully cleaned her wounds, speaking in soothing tones as you worked. “you’re going to be okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle. “we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of.”

hoseok stood nearby, his eyes attentive as he watched you work. he occasionally offered guidance, his voice calm and authoritative. “apply a sterile dressing over the wound,” he instructed, his tone carrying the weight of his expertise. “we need to monitor her for signs of infection.”

as you followed his directions, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze softened with approval. “you’re very gentle,” he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “you have a way of calming people with your touch.” you offered him a small smile, the compliment a balm to your tired spirit. “thank you,” you replied. “among the staff, it seems like no one else is as driven to help everyone as we are. it’s not just about doing our job—it’s about making a difference.”

he nodded thoughtfully, his expression thoughtful. “you’re right,” he said. “in times like these, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients. but it’s our dedication and compassion that make the difference.” you moved on to your next patient, a young boy with a deep cut on his leg. his face was streaked with tears, and he clung to his father, who looked equally distraught.

you knelt beside him, your hands gentle as you cleaned the wound. “i know it hurts,” you said softly, trying to comfort him. “but we’re gonna fix you up, and you’ll be running around again in no time.”

hoseok joined you, examining the boy’s injury with a practiced eye. “we’ll need to stitch this up,” he said, his voice reassuring. “but first, let’s make sure he’s numb so he doesn’t feel any pain.”

as you administered the local anesthetic, he watched with a critical but approving gaze. “you’re doing well,” he said. “Yyur patience with the children is remarkable. it’s important to keep their fears at bay.” you nodded, grateful for his guidance. “it’s easy to be patient when you’re reminded of what’s at stake,” you replied. “when you see their families, you understand just how crucial every moment is.”

next, you tended to a woman in her thirties who had sustained multiple fractures. Her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and fear, and her breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps. you worked swiftly but carefully, applying splints and checking her vital signs. hoseok stood beside you, offering occasional words of advice and encouragement. “she’s in a lot of pain,” you said, your voice tight with concern. “we need to manage her pain effectively to prevent shock.”

hoseok nodded, his eyes sharp as he assessed the situation. “administer a dose of morphine,” he instructed. “we need to ensure she’s stable before we can move her to the operating room.” you administered the medication, watching as the woman’s breathing slowly eased. hoseok placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. “you’re handling this exceptionally well,” he said. “your attention to detail and compassion are exactly what we need.”

as the hours wore on, you continued to work tirelessly under hoseok’s watchful eye. each patient presented a new challenge, and you tackled each with a blend of skill and empathy. from applying dressings to performing initial assessments, every action was a step toward healing and hope. despite the exhaustion that gnawed at you, his praise and the knowledge that you were making a difference kept you going. the hospital’s once chaotic atmosphere began to feel more manageable, and your sense of purpose grew stronger with each patient you helped.

at one point, as you paused to take a brief break, hoseok joined you, his expression a mix of admiration and weariness. “you’ve been incredible today,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “your dedication is inspiring. it’s not often that you find someone with such a genuine drive to help.”

you smiled, the compliment a bright spot in the midst of the chaos. “i just want to make sure we’re doing everything we can,” you said. “in times like these, it’s about more than just medical care. it’s about being there for people when they need it the most.” hoseok’s eyes softened with a mixture of respect and gratitude. “and you’ve done just that,” he said. “it’s an honor to work alongside someone who shares the same commitment to helping others.”

the atmosphere in the hospital was charged with a tense energy as the chief of administrators confronted hoseok in the bustling hallway. the chief, a stout man with a stern expression, gestured sharply with a stack of papers. his voice, though not loud, was laden with authority and frustration. “hoseok,” the chief said, his tone clipped. “you’re being rash. you can’t seriously expect us to take care of every patient with the resources we have. this hospital is far too small to handle this influx. we’re stretched beyond our limits.”

hoseok’s face darkened with a mix of anger and resolve. “it is possible,” he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. “it’s possible if we put in the work and don’t just accept the limitations as insurmountable obstacles. we have to try.”

the chief’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “i understand your dedication, but you’re pushing the boundaries of reason. if you were anyone else, you’d be reprimanded severely, perhaps even fired. you’re only being tolerated because of your skills.” the words were a cold slap, but hoseok’s reaction was fierce. “if my commitment to my patients is a problem,” he said, his voice sharp and defiant, “then maybe it’s this system that needs to change. i won’t be dissuaded by bureaucracy.”

with that, he turned on his heel, his stride purposeful and quick as he stormed off down the corridor. the chief’s frustrated mutterings followed him, but hoseok was already lost in his own storm of emotions. you watched him go, torn between the need to respect his space and the desire to offer support. without a second thought, you followed him, your footsteps echoing in the emptying corridor. you found him standing by a large window in an empty lounge area, his back to you as he gazed out at the darkening sky. the setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the scene, but it did little to ease the storm brewing within him.

you hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. the silence between you was thick with unspoken words, and the gravity of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders. finally, you approached him, your voice soft but resolute.

“hoseok,” you began, gently. “i know the situation is overwhelming. I know what the chief said—he’s right about the limitations we’re facing. but i want you to know something.” he turned to face you, his expression a blend of exhaustion and a flicker of vulnerability. “what is it?” he asked, his voice strained but curious.

“i understand your determination,” you continued, your gaze steady. “i understand it more than you might think. i’ve faced loss and pain, and it drives me to do everything i can to help others. i’d do anything in my power to make sure your idea succeeds. because while i can’t bring my sister back, this is the least I can do. i’ll have your back, no matter what.”

his eyes softened with gratitude, the harsh lines of frustration easing as he listened to you. “thank you,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with sincere appreciation. “your support means more than i can express. it’s hard to keep going when it feels like the world is against us.”

you smiled, the gesture a small comfort in the midst of the storm. “we’ll make it happen,” you assured him. “we’ll find a way. we have to.” he nodded, the resolute spark returning to his eyes. “yes,” he agreed. “we will. together, we can make a difference. thank you for standing by me.” you shared a moment of silent understanding, the bond between you strengthened by shared determination and mutual respect. as you both prepared to return to the fray, the sense of unity and purpose was a powerful reminder of why you were here—to fight for every patient, to push through the limits, and to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds.

you stepped outside into the cool night air, desperately seeking a reprieve from the ceaseless pressure of the hospital. the city, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, bore the marks of the earthquake’s fury. the streets were littered with debris, and the remnants of collapsed buildings loomed like broken skeletons against the skyline. the sky, a deep indigo, seemed too vast and indifferent to the suffering below.

the air was sharp and carried with it the distant sounds of sirens and the hushed murmurs of survivors. you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. yet, the sight of the devastation—once familiar landmarks now in ruins—overwhelmed you. every corner, every shattered window, was a reminder of the chaos that had turned lives upside down. it felt as though the world had been upended, just as your own had been.

returning to the hospital was no easier. the interior was a frenetic blur of activity, the waiting room packed with patients, each one bearing their own story of agony and loss. the sight struck you like a physical blow. It was as if each face held a mirror to your own pain, reflecting the loss of your sister and the desperation you felt to make things right. you forced yourself to focus, to push past the wave of memories that threatened to engulf you. your next patient, an elderly man with a deep laceration on his abdomen, needed immediate attention. you moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning and stitching his wound with hands that trembled despite your best efforts to keep them steady.

the elderly man winced occasionally, his eyes cloudy with pain but also trust. You spoke to him softly, trying to offer some comfort. “you’re doing great,” you reassured him. “we’re almost done, and soon you’ll be on the road to recovery.” his breathing was labored, but he nodded in acknowledgment, his fingers grasping the edge of the examination table. you worked meticulously, careful to ensure each stitch was placed correctly. the procedure was intense, but you found solace in the rhythm of your actions, the repetition allowing you to block out the chaotic thoughts that threatened to invade.

finally, the wound was closed, and the elderly man’s breathing began to even out as the pain eased. you cleaned up, your movements automatic, your exhaustion palpable. as you finished, you collapsed into a chair beside the bed, your head falling into your hands. the weight of the day seemed to press down on you, and you could no longer remember the last time you had slept or even rested properly.

the door creaked open, and you barely registered hoseok’s entrance. he walked in with the calm assurance that had become a hallmark of his presence. his eyes scanned the room, taking in the patient’s steady, restful state. he then turned his gaze to you, noting your worn-out appearance. with a gentle step, he approached and took a seat in the chair next to yours. his presence was a comforting anchor amidst the storm of exhaustion and emotions. you could feel the warmth of his body close by, and despite the chaos, it offered a rare moment of tranquility.

you could feel your eyes growing heavy, the fatigue finally overtaking you. as you drifted into sleep, his gaze remained fixed on you. he watched as the strain on your face eased, replaced by a serene expression. it was a stark contrast to the tumultuous day, a brief moment of peace in the midst of a whirlwind.

his smile was soft, a mix of admiration and affection. he leaned back in the chair, letting his gaze linger on you. the sight of you, so vulnerable and yet so resolute, stirred something deep within him. he whispered to the quiet room, “what are you, indeed? peaceful at all times. what are you?” his question hung in the air, a contemplative murmur to the stillness of the night. as you slept, your breaths steady and even, hoseok remained by your side, his thoughts a tangled web of admiration and concern. the hospital’s relentless pace continued outside, but within this small, quiet corner, there was a rare moment of stillness—a respite from the storm, where two souls found solace in each other’s presence amidst the chaos.

as you slept fitfully, a small, folded photograph slipped from your pocket and fluttered to the floor. hoseok’s keen eyes caught the movement, and he picked up the photo with a gentle curiosity. he unfolded it carefully, revealing a picture of a little girl—her bright eyes and infectious smile captured in a moment of pure joy.

hia heart sank as he studied the photograph, the resemblance to the patient you had treated earlier unmistakable. the realization struck him hard. this was the sister you had spoken of, the one whose loss had driven your unyielding determination. the weight of the truth settled heavily in his chest, and he felt a pang of sorrow for your loss. with a tender, sad smile, hoseok tucked the photograph back into your pocket, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric. he watched you, the burden of your pain and the drive that had fueled your tireless work now deeply understood.

as the night wore on, you stirred in your sleep, caught in the midst of a vivid dream. In your dream, you were in a beautiful meadow, bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene melody. amidst this tranquil setting, you saw her—your sister. she was there, as clear and radiant as the sun itself, her smile warming the entire scene. you reached out, your heart leaping at the sight of her, but she remained just out of your grasp. every step you took towards her seemed to distance her further away, and your pleas for her to come closer went unanswered. you could feel the overwhelming love and longing that had been bottled up inside you, a potent mix of joy and heartache.

but as you stretched out your arms, the dream began to dissolve. the colors bled together, the image of your sister fading into the indistinct blur of waking reality. you jolted awake, tears streaming down your face as you realized it had been nothing but a fleeting dream. the emptiness and loss that had filled your heart so vividly in the dream now echoed painfully in the real world. you sobbed quietly, the grief of the dream and the reality of your sister’s absence crashing together in a wave of sorrow. hoseok, sensing your distress, immediately moved to your side. he wrapped his arms around you with a comforting embrace, his presence a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm.

“it was her,” you choked out between sobs. “she was right there, how could it be just a dream?” his voice was soothing, filled with a deep, empathetic understanding. “i know it hurts,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back. “it’s hard when dreams feel so real. but she’s with you in your heart. i promise you, we’ll get through this.”

he held you close, his warmth a balm to your aching soul. “everything will be okay,” he continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here, and we’ll face it together.” as you leaned into his embrace, the comfort of his words and the strength of his support began to soothe the raw edges of your grief. the reality of the hospital and the endless stream of patients loomed in the background, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between you and hoseok. his presence was a testament to the solidarity and hope that could still be found amidst the overwhelming challenges.

the following morning, the hospital buzzed with its usual rhythm of controlled chaos. you had barely begun your rounds when the loudspeaker crackled to life, calling out an emergency in the er. hoseok’s eyes met yours, concern etched into his features as the announcement detailed the situation.

without a word, you both sprinted towards the room, hearts pounding. as you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat. there, on a gurney, was jiwon, the little girl you had previously encountered. her condition had deteriorated drastically. the deep wounds on her small body had festered, turning into something far more ominous. her big, frightened eyes locked onto yours, and in that instant, the world seemed to slow. her face blurred and morphed, and for a horrifying moment, it wasn’t jiwon you saw but your sister—her eyes pleading, her body frail and helpless. the room seemed to close in on you, the sounds around you muffling as memories of your sister surged to the forefront of your mind.

you couldn’t move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the enormity of your grief and shock rendering you immobile. your heart pounded in your ears, your vision tunneled. all you could see was the image of your sister, her final moments replaying in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. you had failed her, and now, there was jiwon, looking at you with the same desperate hope. hoseok, seeing your distress, moved quickly to your side. “hey, pull it together,” he said, his voice firm but laced with worry. you barely registered his words, your mind trapped in the past.

he shook you gently but urgently. “it’s what your sister would have wanted. she would want you to save this girl.” his words cut through the fog of your panic, grounding you. your sister. she had always admired your strength, your dedication. she wouldn’t want you to falter now. with a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself to focus. you nodded, though the motion felt heavy and slow. together, you and hoseok ushered jiwon into the room, the weight of the moment pressing down on you but not breaking you.

inside the operating room, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with urgency. hoseok scrubbed in, his movements precise and practiced. you followed suit, your hands steadying as you slipped into the familiar routine. “scalpel,” he requested, his voice steady. you handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his in a brief moment of silent solidarity. the incision was made, and the surgery began.

blood oozed from the wound, and you worked swiftly to suction it away, giving hoseok a clear view. the injury was worse than you had feared. necrotic tissue had to be removed, the infection threatening to spread further if not contained. “hemostat,” he ordered, and you placed the instrument in his hand, your eyes never leaving the surgical site. the room was filled with the sounds of monitors beeping, the soft swish of the ventilator, and the occasional murmur of instructions.

his focus was unyielding as he navigated through the intricate web of tissue and blood vessels. “clamp here,” he directed, and you followed, the metal tool snapping shut with a decisive click. time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as you worked in unison, battling to save jiwon’s life. the infection was stubborn, but hoseok’s skill was unparalleled. together, you cut away the dead tissue, flushing the wound with antibiotics, suturing each layer with meticulous care. every stitch, every cut, was a step towards hope, a fight against despair. finally, the last suture was placed, and the wound was closed. you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the surgery had been a success, but the emotional toll was heavy.

you pulled off your gloves and mask, your gaze drifting to jiwon’s still form on the operating table. the anesthesia kept her unconscious, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. you moved to her side, pulling up a stool and sitting next to her. her tiny hand lay limp on the bed, and you gently took it in yours, your heart aching. tears welled up in your eyes as you watched her, the image of your sister still haunting you. you squeezed her hand softly, a tear slipping down your cheek. “everything will be okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i promise you.”

more tears followed, a silent stream of grief and hope mingling. hoseok approached from behind, his presence a comforting warmth. he wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. “she’ll pull through,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “you did great.” you leaned back into him, drawing strength from his embrace. the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future seemed a little more bearable with him by your side.

as you and hoseok stood vigil over her, a muffled commotion echoed through the walls, drawing your attention. exchanging a worried glance with him, you both hurried to the waiting room, the sound growing louder with each step. the scene that greeted you was chaotic. a man stood at the center of the room, his face contorted in rage. he was shouting, his voice a furious torrent of accusations and frustration. the other patients and staff looked on, too stunned or afraid to intervene.

you stepped forward, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “sir, i understand you’re upset, but we’re doing everything we can. we’re short on equipment, but we haven’t stopped working to help everyone.”

his eyes, wild with anger, locked onto yours. “everything you can?” he spat. “my wife is bleeding out and you’re telling me you’re doing everything you can?” he took a menacing step towards you, and before you could react, his hands shot out, wrapping around your throat. the world tilted as his grip tightened, cutting off your air. your hands flew to his, desperately trying to pry them off. your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges. you could hear the frantic shouts of the staff and the gasps of the patients, but they seemed distant, muffled.

hoseok’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “let go of her,” he was by your side in an instant, his hands tearing the man’s grip from your throat with a force you didn’t know he possessed. he pushed you behind him, shielding you with his body. he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him close. his voice was low, dangerous. listen to me,” he growled. “we’re doing everything we can with what we have. everyone here is waiting for treatment, and so will you. if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll be waiting for a casket, not treatment. do you understand?”

the man’s eyes widened, fear replacing the anger as he nodded, hoseok’s grip still firm on his collar. he released the man, who stumbled back, cowed and silent.

you stood there, shaken, your hand pressed to your throat where the man’s fingers had dug in. hoseok turned to you, his expression softening with concern. he pulled you close, his fingers tracing the bruises forming on your neck. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, your voice hoarse. “i’m fine, really. but hoseok, you can’t risk your position like that. what if something happened to you?”

he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes intense. “nothing is more important than you. do you understand? not my position, not this hospital. nothing.” tears welled up in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. you leaned into his touch, the world around you fading away as you found solace in his presence. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

as the tension in the waiting room began to settle, the hospital’s chief appeared, his stern expression cutting through the residual chaos. he made his way directly to hoseok, his eyes narrowing. “dr. jung,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. “my office. now.” hoseok nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before following the chief down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor. you watched him go, anxiety twisting in your stomach.

in the chief’s office, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken reprimands. hoseok took a seat, his back straight, his eyes fixed on the older man who stood behind the large wooden desk.

“what the hell was that out there?” the chief began, his voice hard and unyielding. “do you realize the scene you made? this is a hospital, not a boxing ring.” hoseok’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “that man was choking her. no one else did anything. i had to step in.”

the chief sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i know the toll the earthquake has taken on everyone, including you. we’re all under immense pressure, and tempers are frayed. but you need to understand that your position here is already on thin ice.” hoseok’s heart dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over him. the room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in as the chief continued.

“you’re a good doctor, hoseok,” the chief said, his voice softer now. “but i can’t ignore the incident. that medical error—the one that led to the failed surgery and the death of that little girl—it’s not something we can afford to forget. you need to be more careful. one more mistake, and your career could be over.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. he felt a chill run through his veins, the memory of that night flashing before his eyes. the sterile operating room, the smell of antiseptic, the panicked beeping of the monitors. and then the silence. the deafening silence after the little girl’s heart had stopped. he forced himself to nod, his voice tight. “i understand. i’ll be careful.”

the chief’s eyes softened slightly, but the severity of his words remained. “i’m not saying this to punish you, hoseok. i’m saying it because you’re a talented doctor. don’t let your emotions jeopardize everything you’ve worked for.” he stood, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his shoulders. “thank you, sir. i’ll keep that in mind.”

as he left the office, the gravity of the chief’s warning pressed down on him. the memory of your little girl’s lifeless body haunted him, a constant reminder of his fallibility. the stakes had never felt higher.

returning to the waiting room, he found you standing there, worry etched into your features. you rushed to him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of what had transpired.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he gave you a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “just a reminder to keep my cool,” he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the chief’s warning. “we need to be careful. both of us.” you nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. the hospital was a place of healing but also a place where mistakes could cost lives and careers. together, you would navigate these treacherous waters, leaning on each other for strength.

the minutes turned into hours as the hospital faced an onslaught of patients, each with their own urgent needs. the air was thick with the sounds of pain and desperation, interspersed with the beeping of monitors and the hurried footsteps of medical staff. a young man was wheeled in, clutching his abdomen, his face contorted in agony. “it’s appendicitis,” hoseok diagnosed quickly. “we need to operate immediately.” you assisted in prepping him for surgery, your hands steady as you administered anesthesia, feeling the weight of the man's trust in your hands.

next came an elderly woman, her breathing labored and her skin pallid. hoseok listened to her chest, his brow furrowing in concentration. “pulmonary edema,” he said, his voice decisive. “we need to get her stabilized.” you moved swiftly, setting up an iv and administering medication, feeling the tension ease slightly as her breathing became more regular.

throughout the chaos, hoseok’s praise for your work was a steady undercurrent. “you’re doing great,” he’d say, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “i couldn’t do this without you.” each word of encouragement sent a flutter through your heart, grounding you amid the storm of activity.

a little boy was brought in next, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “fracture,” hoseok noted, his expression softening as he knelt beside the boy. “we’ll fix you up, champ.” you held the boy’s hand, distracting him with stories as hoseok expertly set the bone and applied a cast. the boy’s tears turned to a tentative smile, and you felt a surge of warmth at the sight.

an older man with a deep gash on his thigh was next. “this is going to need stitches,” hoseok said, his tone gentle as he cleaned the wound. you handed him the sutures, your fingers brushing briefly, a jolt of electricity passing between you. as he stitched the wound with precision, he glanced up at you. “we make a good team, don’t we?” you smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “we do,” you agreed, your voice soft.

as the day wore on, the stream of patients seemed endless. you and hoseok moved in sync, your actions a well-rehearsed dance of medical efficiency and compassionate care. every now and then, his hand would find yours, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. by the time the sun began to set, the exhaustion was palpable. your muscles ached, and your mind buzzed with the day’s events. hoseok finished treating the last patient, a woman with a sprained ankle, and turned to you with a weary but proud smile. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite your fatigue. “you too.” as you walked out of the hospital, the cool evening air was a welcome relief. the makeshift shower stations set up outside beckoned, promising a brief respite from the day’s grime and stress. uou grabbed a towel and stepped under the water, letting the cool droplets wash away the dirt and blood, a small sigh escaping your lips.

the evening had settled into a quiet lull, the chaos of the day finally giving way to a rare moment of peace. you stood beneath the shower, the water cascading over your tired body, washing away the grime and stress that had accumulated throughout the day. each droplet felt like a small blessing, providing a fleeting sense of relief. as you stood there, eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water, you heard the soft swish of the shower curtain. you didn’t tense up; you knew who it was even before his arms wrapped around your bare waist, pulling you back against his solid chest. hoseok's touch was gentle yet firm, his breath warm against your neck as he held you close.

“you did a good job today,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. “thank you,” you replied, your voice soft, filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

his lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. you turned around to face him, your eyes meeting his. despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he looked as gorgeous as ever. the soft spray of water from the shower highlighted the contours of his face, making him seem almost ethereal in the dim light. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the water that clung to your skin. his touch was tender, filled with an unspoken promise of comfort and affection. slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. it was a kiss filled with unspoken words, a desperate need for connection and relief from the day’s turmoil.

you kissed back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if he were your lifeline. the kiss grew more heated, a sense of urgency taking over as the weight of the day’s events melted away in the intensity of the moment. his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. the water continued to cascade around you, mingling with the heat of your embrace. each kiss, each touch, seemed to erase a little more of the day’s exhaustion, replacing it with a fervent need for each other. hoseok’s lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.

you arched into him, your breath hitching as his hands explored, finding the places that made you shiver with need. “hoseok,” you breathed, your voice a mix of longing and relief. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. “i need you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “right now, more than ever.”

without another word, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the coldness of the hospital towel forgotten as you clung to him. his mouth returned to yours, the kisses deepening, growing more desperate with each passing second. the water pounded against your skin, the rhythm matching the beat of your racing heart. his hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers digging in as he held you tightly. you could feel his arousal pressing against you, and the realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

his mouth left your lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful.” his words were a potent aphrodisiac, sending a warm flush through your body. you moaned in response, your hands tangling in his hair. his kisses grew more insistent, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before dipping down to your collarbone. you gasped as he sucked on the sensitive skin, his teeth lightly grazing the surface. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that had you squirming against him.

his hands found your tits, kneading them gently as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. you moaned again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the tiles of the shower. your hips rocked against him, seeking more contact, more friction. the need to be closer was overwhelming, the ache between your legs demanding attention. hoseok’s movements grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding. you could feel the tension coiling in his body, a mirror to the desire coursing through your own. you knew that this wasn’t just about sex; it was about connecting, about reaffirming the bond that had grown stronger with each passing day in the chaotic world.

his hands slid down, reaching between your legs, and you shuddered as his fingers found you, already wet and ready. “so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. you bit your lip, trying to hold back the whimpers that threatened to spill forth as he touched you, stoked the fire within you. your body begged for more, and hoseok, ever attentive, was more than happy to oblige.

his thumb circled your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body, while his other hand supported you, holding you firmly against the wall of the shower. the cool tiles provided a stark contrast to the heat that was building within you. hoseok’s eyes never left yours, his gaze locked on you as if he could see straight into your soul. the intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle, your love for him growing with each touch, each caress.

his fingers slipped inside you, and you threw your head back, the water now a backdrop to the symphony of sensations that were playing out between you. your hips bucked against his hand, seeking the release that was just out of reach. his strokes grew quicker, more insistent, as he whispered filthy, loving words into your ear. the shower was now a cocoon of passion, the sounds of the water mixing with your moans and gasps.

his other hand moved to the base of your spine, pressing you even closer to him, and you could feel the tip of his erection nudging against you. you were both trembling with need, the world outside the shower fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in a haze of desire. hoseok’s eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you gave it willingly, nodding your head. without hesitation, he entered you, filling you up with one smooth, powerful thrust.

you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation almost too intense. he stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to move, his hips rolling into yours with a slow, steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but in this moment, there was only the two of you, the heat of your bodies melding together, the sound of your breaths mingling with the patter of the rain.

his movements grew more urgent, his strokes deepening as he claimed you, his gentle doctor’s hands now possessive and firm. you matched his pace, your legs tightening around him, your nails digging into his back. the water rained down on you both, turning the steamy air into a sensual embrace that only heightened the passion of the moment. hoseok’s lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep as if trying to devour you whole. your kisses grew sloppy and desperate, your breaths mingling in a symphony of need.

his hand left your thigh, sliding up to grip your neck, holding you in place as he ravished your mouth. you felt the tip of his tongue trace the seam of your lips before pushing inside, and you responded eagerly, your own tongue dancing with his. the taste of mint toothpaste and the faint metallic hint of hospital air was intoxicating, a stark reminder of the reality that surrounded your clandestine escape into the steamy oasis.

you reached down to wrap your hand around his length, stroking him in time with his thrusts, feeling him pulse and throb in your grip. his eyes closed briefly, a look of pure ecstasy crossing his face, before snapping open to meet yours again. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but you held it, never breaking contact, as you pushed him closer to the edge. hoseok’s breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached climax.

his hand moved to cover yours, guiding your strokes, showing you just how he liked it. your other hand slid down to cup his back, pulling him into you with each thrust. the friction was exquisite, each movement bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. the sound of the shower was now a cacophony of splashing water, wet skin slapping against wet skin, and the grunts and moans of two lovers lost in the throes of passion.

hoseok’s eyes went wide, and he let out a guttural groan, his body stiffening as he came inside you. the warmth of his release sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. your legs tightened around him, your body shuddering with the force of it. he held you through it all, his arms strong and steady, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you both rode the waves of pleasure.

as your climax subsided, he slowly pulled out, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the love and adoration shining in them, a stark contrast to the raw lust that had been there moments before. hoseok kissed you gently, his touch tender as he set you down on unsteady legs. the water continued to fall around you, washing away the last remnants of the day’s tension as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts racing and bodies spent. the steam cleared, and reality began to seep back in, but for now, you didn’t care about the world outside. all that mattered was the warmth of hoseok’s embrace, the feel of his skin against yours, and the quiet reassurance that, amidst the chaos, you had found something beautiful and true. you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. hoseok followed, pulling you close once more, and you knew that, no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

the morning sun filtered through the cracks in the hospital blinds, casting a soft glow over the bustling emergency room. you stood at a patient’s bedside, your hands steady as you carefully adjusted an iv drip. the patient, an elderly woman with kind eyes, smiled weakly at you.

“thank you, dear,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. you returned her smile, your heart warmed by her gratitude. “just doing my job,” you replied gently, checking her vitals one last time before moving on to the next patient. the night had been long, and you felt the weight of exhaustion in your bones, but the memory of hoseok’s arms around you, his whispered reassurances, kept you going.

as you made your way down the corridor, you caught snippets of conversation from two nurses passing by. their voices were hushed, but not enough to prevent you from hearing their words.

“did you hear about (y/n) and doctor jung? i heard she seduced him for a better position and pay,” one of them whispered, a note of disdain in her voice. “typical,” the other replied, her tone equally scornful. “some people will do anything to get ahead.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your heart churned, and for a moment, you felt a wave of nausea. you clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure as the nurses’ voices faded away. at the same time, you heard a familiar voice by the door. “ignore them.”

you turned to see hoseok standing there, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. his presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. he crossed the room, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you took a deep breath, nodding. “thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “we’ve got more important things to focus on.”

with renewed determination, you continued your rounds, treating patients with the same care and dedication that had always driven you. you sutured wounds, administered medication, and offered comforting words to those in pain. each task was a reminder of why you had chosen this path, and why you wouldn’t let the cruel words of others deter you. one patient, a young boy with a broken arm, clung to his mother as you gently examined the injury. “it’s gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice soothing. “we’ll get you all fixed up.” the boy looked at you with wide, trusting eyes. “promise?”

“i promise,” you said, your heart aching at his vulnerability. you worked quickly and efficiently, setting the bone and applying a cast while his mother watched with tears in her eyes. “thank you, doctor,” she said, her voice trembling with relief. “it’s my pleasure,” you replied, giving her a reassuring smile. as you finished up, you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned to see hoseok standing beside you, his eyes filled with admiration.

“can we talk?” he asked softly. you nodded, following him to a quiet corner of the room. he turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you regret what happened last night?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no, i don’t. not for a second.”

his face softened with relief, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i’m glad,” he murmured. “because i don’t regret it either.” in that moment, surrounded by the relentless noise of the hospital, the weight of your responsibilities, and the harsh whispers of gossip, you felt a sense of clarity. you and hoseok were in it together, facing the challenges side by side. and no matter what the day would bring, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could endure anything.

the hours flew by in a whirlwind of activity. the emergency room was flooded with patients, and you and hoseok barely had a moment to breathe. each case demanded your full attention, and you threw yourself into your work, determined to make a difference. one of your patients was a middle-aged man with severe lacerations from a car accident. his face was pale, and he winced with every movement. “stay still for me,” you instructed gently as you cleaned the wound. his wife hovered nearby, wringing her hands in worry.

“will he be okay?” she asked, her voice trembling. “we’re doing everything we can,” you reassured her, glancing at hoseok, who was prepping the sutures. “he’s in good hands.” the man’s grip tightened on his wife’s hand as you worked together with hoseok to close the deep gashes. every stitch you made felt like a small victory, a reminder of the importance of your work.

“thank you, doctor,” the man said weakly as you finished, his voice filled with gratitude. “rest now,” hoseok added, his tone calm and authoritative. “you’re going to be fine.”

you moved on to the next patient, a young woman with a high fever and respiratory distress. you monitored her vitals, administered medication, and did everything you could to stabilize her. the relentless pace continued, and with each patient you treated, you felt the weight of responsibility grow heavier. finally, as the sun began to set, the flow of new patients slowed down. the exhaustion hit you like a wave, and you found yourself leaning against a wall, closing your eyes for a moment’s respite. hoseok appeared at your side, his expression mirroring your fatigue.

“let’s take a break,” he suggested softly. “we’ve done enough for now.” you nodded, too tired to argue. together, you walked outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the emergency room. a small bonfire crackled nearby, providing warmth and light in the growing darkness. you both sat down, the flames casting flickering shadows on your faces.

he handed you a can of cheap soda, and you accepted it gratefully. you popped the tab and took a sip, the sweetness refreshing after the long day. he watched the fire for a moment before turning his gaze to you, the firelight illuminating his features. “what made you so determined?” you asked, breaking the silence. “i know why i’m here, but i’ve never asked about you.” hoseok sighed, his eyes distant as he stared into the flames. “at first, it was about the money. i wanted a stable career, something that paid well. but everything changed when the earthquake hit.”

you listened intently as he continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “there was a little girl who was rushed in during the chaos. she was so small, so fragile. i did everything i could to save her, but i made a mistake. a medical error. and she didn’t make it.” your heart ached at his words, a deep empathy stirring within you. “i understand,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “i know that feeling all too well.”

hoseok looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “i know you understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “because that little girl was your sister.” the world seemed to tilt on its axis. you stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. “what? are you joking?”

“i wish i were,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “when i saw the photo of her slip out of your pocket, i knew. i recognized her immediately.”

a torrent of emotions surged through you—shock, betrayal, anger. you pulled away from him, standing up abruptly. “you knew all this time and didn’t tell me?” hoseok stood up as well, his expression desperate. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know how to tell you. I thought—”

“you thought what?” you snapped, your voice rising. “that i wouldn’t find out? that it wouldn’t matter?”

he took a step towards you, his hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. “i did everything i could to save her. i swear. i’ve lived with that guilt every day.” you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “i can’t believe this. i trusted you, hoseok.”

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t want to hurt you.” but you couldn’t hear his apologies over the roar of your own anguish. you turned and walked back into the hospital, each step heavy with the weight of betrayal. the familiar corridors felt alien now, and the faces of your colleagues blurred in your vision.

inside, you found a quiet corner and sank to the floor, your heart shattering with each passing second. the realization that hoseok, the man you had come to trust and care for, was connected to the most painful moment of your life was too much to bear. you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. the hospital, once a place of solace and purpose, now felt like a labyrinth of pain and deceit. and as you sat there, alone and overwhelmed, you wondered if you would ever find a way to heal.

the night had already been filled with too much pain, but the worst was yet to come. the dull hum of the hospital was suddenly pierced by the shrill cry of an alarm. the emergency broadcast system crackled to life, filling the room with a foreboding announcement: “attention. a new earthquake is imminent. please proceed to the designated safety areas immediately.”

the sound of the alert was quickly followed by the frantic ringing of alarms. panic spread through the corridors like wildfire. the television screens mounted on the walls flickered with images of shaking buildings and terrified faces. staff members sprinted through the halls, urging patients and visitors to head for the basement. you were still reeling from the revelation of hoseok’s connection to your sister’s death, but the urgency of the situation snapped you into action. the chaos around you was overwhelming, but you focused on the immediate task at hand. the job you had taken on had always been about helping people, and in that moment, you had to live up to the commitment.

you grabbed a nearby nurse, her face ashen with fear. “we need to get everyone to the basement!” you shouted over the cacophony. “we’ll start with the patients in critical condition. follow me!” the nurse nodded, her expression resolute despite her trembling hands. together, you moved swiftly from room to room, helping patients to their feet and guiding them towards the emergency exits. the corridors were a maze of frantic movement and terrified faces.

“please, stay calm!” you yelled as you assisted an elderly woman in a wheelchair. “we’re getting you to safety.” as the ground began to rumble beneath you, a low, ominous growl filled the air. the hospital’s structure groaned as if protesting the force of the impending quake. your heart pounded in your chest as you ushered more patients into the basement, each tremor sending vibrations through the floor and walls.

with each passing moment, the intensity of the shaking increased. the walls swayed, and the ceiling tiles rattled loose, falling to the floor with a deafening crash. the alarms blared incessantly, adding to the din of panicked voices. in the basement, the scene was no less chaotic. people huddled together, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. you made sure everyone was settled as best as they could be, then pushed your way through the throng of people, desperately searching for hoseok. his absence was an increasing source of dread.

“has anybody seen doctor jung?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain calm. no one answered, and your anxiety only grew.

the tremors beneath your feet grew stronger, and the ground shook violently. the basement walls trembled, and the ceiling seemed to ripple as if in a nightmarish dance. the sobs and cries of frightened families echoed through the confined space. “no, no!” you heard someone scream. “not again!”

the tremors were relentless, a relentless assault on your senses. you clung to a nearby support beam, your knuckles white with the strain. the shaking went on for what felt like hours, an endless barrage of terror and uncertainty. when the shaking finally ceased, a heavy silence settled over the basement. the air was thick with the scent of dust and fear. you looked around, your heart racing, searching for hoseok amid the sea of frightened faces.

“hoseok!” you shouted, but the name was swallowed by the silence. your eyes scanned the room frantically, but there was no sign of him. you approached one of the staff members, her face pale with exhaustion. “have you seen doctor jung? he was supposed to be here, helping—”

“i haven’t seen him since the earthquake started,” she said, her voice trembling. “he must still be upstairs.” a cold dread washed over you as the realization set in. if he was still up there, he was in grave danger. you moved towards the stairwell, but before you could take more than a few steps, a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back.

“it’s too dangerous!” a voice shouted. it was one of the security personnel. “we need to stay down here until we’re sure the building is stable!” you struggled against their hold, desperation making your voice raw. “i have to find him, he could be hurt.”

“we’ll send a search team once it’s safe,” the security guard said firmly. “you need to stay put.” you watched helplessly as the staff continued to reassure and comfort the frightened patients. your heart ached with each passing minute, knowing that hoseok was up there, alone and in danger. you couldn’t shake the image of him, his face filled with anguish and regret.

as the hours dragged on, the basement’s tension slowly dissipated. the quake had left the hospital in a state of disarray, but the immediate danger had passed. emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh, eerie glow over the faces of those huddled together. you sat down on a bench, your body trembling from exhaustion and stress. the fear and sorrow were overwhelming, and the knowledge that he was still missing gnawed at you with relentless intensity. the events of the past days seemed to blur into one long, unending nightmare.

with each passing moment, you clung to the hope that hoseok would return, that somehow he would come back to you, alive and safe. but as the minutes ticked by and the search continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him for good. the basement was a sea of tears and whispered fears, and you were adrift in the middle of it all, waiting for news that felt like it might never come.

the basement, once a haven of safety, now felt like an eerie waiting room, filled with the weight of anxiety and the suffocating hush of fear. the tension was palpable as everyone waited for news, the soft sobs of frightened families creating a haunting backdrop to the dimly lit space. you sat on the edge of a bench, your hands trembling, eyes darting towards the stairwell as if willing hoseok to appear.

the sound of hurried footsteps and the clamor of metal brought a sudden rush of urgency. a safety team burst into the basement, carrying a stretcher between them. the sight of their grim expressions only heightened your anxiety. as they made their way through the crowd, a small figure trailed behind them, her face streaked with tears. you recognized her immediately—jiwon, the little girl you had been so concerned about. your heart leaped at the sight of her. “jiwon!” you cried out, rushing towards her.

she ran into your arms, her sobs shaking her small frame. “i’m so glad to see you,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “i was so worried.” her tear-streaked face looked up at you, her eyes filled with both gratitude and sorrow. “i wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t rescued me,” she said between hiccupping breaths.

you frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “who are you talking about?”

she pointed to the stretcher being wheeled in. your heart dropped as you took in the sight of the man lying on it. it was hoseok. his once-immaculate white coat was now a tattered mess, stained with blood and grime. his face was marred by scratches, and his skin was torn and bruised from splinters. a gash in his leg bled profusely, and his breathing was shallow and labored.

panic surged through you as you pushed past the safety team and knelt beside him. “hoseok!” you cried, gently placing your fingers against his neck. the pulse beneath your fingertips was weak but present. relief mingled with the gnawing regret that had taken root in your heart. “hoseok!” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you examined his wounds. “please, stay with me.”

jiwon, her face still wet with tears, watched you with a look of deep concern. “he saved me,” she repeated, her voice quivering. “he kept me safe.”

you took a deep breath, fighting the wave of despair threatening to overwhelm you. “i need medical supplies!” you shouted to the team, your voice urgent. “now!” as the team scrambled to fetch the equipment, you turned your attention back to him. memories of his teachings flashed through your mind—everything he had shared about treating injuries, his instructions on how to handle severe trauma. with trembling hands, you began to clean the gash on his leg, your movements both desperate and precise.

the blood flowed freely, and you struggled to staunch the flow. you focused on each step, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at you. “i’m sorry,” you whispered as you worked. “i’m so sorry.” the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. your hands worked methodically, applying pressure, cleaning the wound, and bandaging it with the skill you had learned from him. every time you looked at his face, every time you saw the pain and the sacrifice etched into his features, the regret and sorrow became nearly unbearable.

finally, after what felt like hours, you finished with his leg. you moved to his other injuries, performing basic first aid to stabilize him as best you could. each movement was a battle against the rising tide of emotion and the weight of your fears. with hoseok now stabilized, you stepped back, your heart aching as you looked at his battered form. you took his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his still face. “please,” you begged, your voice cracking with emotion. “please wake up. you have to stay alive. i need you. i forgive you—whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. i can’t lose you too.”

the silence of the basement was deafening as you continued to hold his hand, the enormity of what had happened crashing down on you. the walls seemed to close in, and the oppressive weight of the situation bore heavily on your shoulders. as you sat beside him, your pleas became more desperate. “hoseok, you have to come back to me. i know i’ve been angry, and i know there’s so much we haven’t said. but you’re the only one who understands, the only one who has been there for me. please, don’t leave me.”

jiwon, watching from a few steps away, seemed to sense your pain and stepped closer. “he saved me,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet conviction. “he’s a hero. he’ll be okay.” your heart swelled with gratitude for the little girl’s words, but it did little to ease the crushing weight of guilt and grief. he had put his life on the line just to save the girl that reminded you so much of your sister. the faint sound of the alarms in the background was a stark reminder of the chaos outside, but there, in the small, dimly lit corner of the basement, it was just you and him.

the basement was still, save for the occasional shuffling of feet and the distant murmurs of anxious voices. the weight of the entire ordeal hung heavy in the air as you sat by hoseok’s side, your hands stained with blood and your body numb from exhaustion. the darkness of the night seemed endless, a constant reminder of the fragile line between hope and despair.

you hadn't closed your eyes for what felt like an eternity, your gaze fixed on his still form. every labored breath he took was a reminder of the dire situation, and you clung to the hope that he would pull through. the flickering light from the emergency lamps cast long, wavering shadows across his face, highlighting the bruises and cuts that marred his once-charming features.

finally, after what seemed like an infinite stretch of time, you saw a slight movement. his eyes fluttered open, and your heart leaped into your throat. “hoseok!” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

his eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, met yours. his breathing was still labored, each inhale coming in shallow, ragged gasps. but there was a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of the warm, familiar presence you had feared you might never see again. tears streamed down your face as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his cheek with a gentleness born of desperation and love.

he gave a weak smile, his lips curving up despite the pain etched into every line of his face. “well,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i always thought you’d be the one in this position, not me.” a shaky laugh escaped you as you held him closer, your tears mingling with the blood on his clothes. “i’m so glad you’re awake,” you whispered through your sobs. “i was so scared I’d lost you. i'm so sorry.”

his fingers, though trembling, reached up to brush your hair away from your face. the touch was tender, and it made your heart ache with the depth of your relief. “i’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but earnest. “i never wanted to put you through this.”

you shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “no,” you said firmly, your voice breaking with emotion. “you did your best. you saved jiwon. you saved her, and you saved me.”

as you held him, his lips brushed gently against your hair, a tender gesture that conveyed more than words ever could. you could feel his heartbeat, faint but steady, and it was a rhythm that filled you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. his gaze wandered to where jiwon stood a few feet away. her face was slick with tears, but she was smiling, her small frame trembling with the weight of the relief and gratitude she felt. the sight of her, so reminiscent of your own lost sister, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

her presence was a poignant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you had fought so hard to protect. she was a symbol of innocence and hope, a small, fragile life that had been preserved through the sacrifices made by hoseok and yourself. the resemblance to your sister was uncanny, and it was as though the universe had given you a bittersweet gift—a reflection of the child you had mourned, now standing before you as a living testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit.

you looked at her, then back at hoseok, who was watching her with a faint smile on his lips. his eyes were filled with a mix of pain and satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed through their shared ordeal. “she reminds me so much of her,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on jiwon. “i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she’s a brave little girl.”

the basement, once filled with dread and uncertainty, now seemed to resonate with a quiet, profound sense of relief. despite the chaos and the trauma that had unfolded, the small victories and the lives saved were a testament to the strength and courage that had carried you through.

you continued to hold hoseok close, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. the night had been long and harrowing, but as you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of his presence and the sight of jiwon’s tearful smile, you felt a flicker of hope and redemption.

✧.*

a/n: this was so fun to write omg

watching the heirs be so fun when u dont have a bitch in ur ear telling u how corny it is

troublemaker (트러블) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

you were trouble, everyone knew it. from the moment you entered a room, you carried an aura that demanded attention, the kind of allure that held people captive in the snare of your presence. in a world where appearances could be weapons, you were the embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype as lethal as it was beguiling. your beauty wasn’t merely skin-deep; it was a complex tapestry woven from threads of danger, allure, and an almost tangible sense of enigma.

your eyes, framed by a cascade of midnight-black lashes, were twin pools of mystery that could ensnare anyone who dared to meet your gaze. they shimmered with an intensity that hinted at secrets too dark to unveil, secrets that whispered of peril and allure in the same breath. when you walked, each step was a masterstroke of elegance and seduction, the hem of your dress swaying like the tendrils of a siren's call. the colors you wore were never just colors; they were statements, woven into the fabric of your being like the brushstrokes of a master painter’s most provocative work.

your voice, when it cut through the ambient hum of a room, was velvet and smoke—rich and inviting, yet laden with the promise of consequences that could spiral into chaos. it could lure and disarm, coaxing even the most guarded heart into the realm of vulnerability. conversations with you were like navigating a labyrinth; each word, each pause, was meticulously crafted to captivate, ensnare, and ultimately control.

in your presence, the air seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, an ethereal glow that made reality seem like a mere shadow of the world you conjured. you moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, a dance that was both hypnotic and dangerous. the way you tilted your head, the slight curve of your smile—it all contributed to a spellbinding performance that kept everyone on edge. if looks could kill, you would have been executed long ago. your mere gaze was a weapon honed to perfection, capable of dismantling the strongest of defenses with a single glance. the enchantment you wielded was not merely a play of physical beauty but a deadly precision of emotional manipulation and psychological prowess. to encounter you was to walk a tightrope over an abyss, where every step was fraught with the potential for either profound enchantment or complete destruction.

you were a canvas of contradictions, a symphony of beauty and menace. each interaction with you was an intricate dance on the edge of a razor, where the thrill of the unknown mingled with the inevitable sting of consequences. In the grand theater of life, you were the lead role in a drama so intense and captivating that it demanded the audience's complete surrender. the enigma you embodied was a work of art in itself, crafted with the precision of a masterful painter and the allure of an ancient legend. you were the perfect embodiment of femme fatale—an archetype so potent that even the hint of your presence could render the most formidable of souls powerless.

you were a vision of lethal elegance, the very embodiment of danger wrapped in glamour. in the dimly lit bar, your presence was nothing short of an intoxicating spell, casting a spell that had everyone under its sway. the room pulsed with life, the throbbing beat of music mingling with the electric current of your allure. all eyes were drawn to you, some with a flicker of lust, others with a trace of envy. you anticipated this reaction with an almost preternatural certainty, knowing exactly how to wield your beauty as a weapon of desire and control.

perched on a plush velvet bar stool, you sipped your martini with an air of nonchalance, the delicate glass catching the ambient light and casting glimmers that mirrored the sparkle in your eyes. the glistening liquid within the glass seemed to reflect the dangerous playfulness that danced beneath your composed facade. every sip was a deliberate act, each moment stretched out to heighten the tension that thrummed through the bar like an electric charge.

as you savored your drink, a man, drawn in by the magnetic pull of your presence, approached you with a confident stride. his gaze was fixated on you with a mixture of desire and admiration. he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur as he offered to buy you another drink. you responded with a smile that could melt steel and a purr that was as soft as it was deadly. “i’m not thirsty anymore,” you whispered, your breath warm against his ear. “in fact, i’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

your words were accompanied by a slow, deliberate exploration of his body—your knee pressed suggestively against the bulge in his pants, your fingertips tracing lazy, teasing patterns along his arm. he was ensnared, mesmerized by the intoxicating blend of your touch and your voice. with each subtle caress, you could feel his resolve dissolving, his body responding with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. you guided him with practiced ease toward the staircase leading up to the hotel above the club. each step you took was measured, each glance you cast over your shoulder a calculated part of the seduction. when you reached the room you had rented hours before, the anticipation hung in the air like a charged current.

inside the room, the atmosphere shifted from the vibrant chaos of the bar to an intimate and charged tension. you pushed him onto the bed with a combination of grace and dominance, your lips finding his in a heated kiss that spoke of all the promises and perils to come. as the passion intensified, you suddenly pulled away, a playful smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “wait here,” you instructed, your voice a velvet command as you slipped away to the bathroom. the soft click of the door closing behind you was the only sound before you emerged, your form now adorned only in a lacy bra and panties. in your hands, you held a bundle of rope, its coiled lengths a stark contrast to your alluring appearance. you presented it to him with a languid, almost theatrical flourish, the rope glistening in the soft light as you displayed it with a provocative grace.

his eyes were locked on the rope, his eagerness palpable as he reached out, his breath quickening with anticipation. but before he could fully grasp his desires, you were swift and unerring. the rope was suddenly around his throat, its fibers cold and unyielding against his skin. his eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to breathe. the thrill of the moment was palpable in the room, the transformation from seduction to danger swift and complete.

your expression remained impassive, almost detached, as you tightened the rope with measured precision. you watched with an indifferent gaze as the life began to ebb from his eyes, the struggle growing weaker with each tightening of the rope. the room was silent save for the faint, strangled sounds of his attempts to breathe, and your own calm, steady breaths as you held him in your grip.

once the light of life had dimmed from his eyes, you released the rope with a smooth, practiced motion, the finality of your actions as clean and efficient as the execution of a well-rehearsed performance. without a moment's hesitation, you retrieved your phone from the nightstand, dialing the number you knew by heart. your voice was cool and composed as you delivered the message, “the job’s finished.” the transaction was complete, your demeanor as flawless and unperturbed as ever. the power of your presence, combined with the lethal precision of your actions, left no room for doubt. your looks could, indeed, kill.

in the dimly lit ambiance of a high-end club, where shadows danced along the walls and whispers wove through the air like silk, kim namjoon emerged as a figure of compelling elegance and magnetic allure. his presence was a striking contrast to the dim setting, an embodiment of polished sophistication and commanding charm. from the moment he entered the room, it was as if the very air around him shifted, aligning with his undeniable magnetism.

his appearance was nothing short of captivating. his sharp, chiseled features were sculpted with an artist’s precision—his high cheekbones, a strong, defined jawline, and the perfectly straight bridge of his nose created a visage that could have been plucked from the pages of a fashion magazine. his eyes, dark and intense, held a glimmer of mischief beneath their calm facade. they were the kind of eyes that seemed to see through every pretense, a deep, penetrating gaze that drew people in and held them captive, like a spell they were powerless to break.

his hair was styled with an effortless grace, each strand falling into place as if it had been carefully tousled by an unseen hand. it framed his face with an artful disarray that only enhanced his allure, giving him a look that was both casually disheveled and meticulously groomed. every movement he made was fluid, a smooth, deliberate motion that spoke of both confidence and control. his attire—a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame—was a testament to his keen sense of style. the fabric draped over him with an elegance that was both understated and luxurious, the dark hue of his suit contrasting sharply with the warm glow of the club’s lighting.

as he navigated through the room, every step seemed to radiate a quiet power, his aura compelling and commanding. there was an inherent grace to his movements, a calculated ease that made him seem as though he were gliding rather than walking. women turned their heads as he passed, their gazes lingering with a mixture of admiration and desire, their reactions a testament to the impact of his presence.

he knew precisely how to wield his beauty and charm, turning it into a weapon of seduction and influence. his smile was a carefully honed tool, flashing with just the right amount of warmth and allure to disarm even the most guarded soul. it was a smile that suggested both confidence and an intimate understanding of human nature, a combination that made him irresistibly intriguing. in conversation, his voice was a smooth, velvety timbre that could both soothe and stir, a voice that could command attention or whisper promises of indulgence. each word he spoke was measured and deliberate, imbued with a charisma that made every interaction feel like a dance. he could make the simplest of exchanges seem like a tantalizing game, where every glance and every phrase was part of a larger, more complex play.

kim namjoon was more than just a man of striking appearance; he was an embodiment of an almost otherworldly charm that made him a force to be reckoned with. his beauty was not merely skin-deep but a carefully curated blend of aesthetics and allure, sharpened by a sly intelligence and a commanding presence. his very being radiated a magnetic energy that drew others to him, an aura of irresistible power and charm that made him both a captivating enigma and an undeniable force.

as he moved through the crowded club, his presence was like a magnetic force drawing the eyes of every observer, yet his attention was singularly focused on one woman. she was a vision of allure, her eyes locked onto him with an unspoken recognition of his power and charm. he approached her with a fluid grace, his every movement deliberate and poised.

he came from behind her, his touch an intimate caress that seemed to awaken a shiver down her spine. she arched into his touch, as if her body had anticipated his arrival, responding to his presence with a blend of eagerness and trust. his fingers traced a path along her delicate skin, sending waves of warmth and anticipation through her. leaning in, he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “do you wanna get out of here?” the words were laced with a promise of excitement and danger, an invitation wrapped in seductive undertones. she nodded almost imperceptibly, her lips curving into a smile of eager compliance as she allowed him to guide her through the throng of revelers.

as they navigated their way out of the club, namjoon’s hands continued their languid exploration along her back and sides, each touch a reminder of the allure he wielded with such ease. they moved together in a rhythm of anticipation, their path illuminated by the flashing lights of the city as they ventured into the shadowed recesses of an alleyway. in the quiet, obscured alley, the vibrant chaos of the club seemed like a distant memory. his whispers became more insistent, his words slipping into a darker, more provocative territory. the woman's excitement was palpable, her breath hitching as his voice wove a tantalizing promise of what was to come.

as they reached a more secluded spot, his hand brushed against his pocket, his keys falling from his grasp and clattering onto the ground. he paused to retrieve them, his movements precise and deliberate. it was in this moment of vulnerability that the woman's anticipation turned to confusion, her eyes widening as the reality of her situation began to dawn on her.

in a swift, practiced motion, his demeanor shifted from seductive to menacing. as he straightened, his hands were no longer gentle but cruelly firm. his fingers closed around her throat with an unyielding grip, his strength a chilling contrast to the tenderness he had earlier exhibited. her eyes, once filled with lust, were now wide with a horror that seemed to freeze time itself. he applied pressure with a cold efficiency, the life gradually ebbing from her eyes as she struggled against the relentless force of his grip. he watched impassively as the light in her eyes dimmed, her struggles growing weaker until her body went limp. the transition from desire to demise was abrupt, the room falling into a stifling silence as she dropped dead at his feet.

with her lifeless body at his feet, namjoon remained calm, his expression a mask of unperturbed satisfaction. he removed his phone from his pocket with the same grace he had shown throughout the evening, his fingers moving with practiced precision. dialing a number, he spoke into the phone with a voice that was as cool and collected as ever. “the job’s finished,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the passionate persona he had so masterfully projected moments before. the efficiency of his actions, the seamless transition from charm to ruthlessness, underscored the true extent of his dangerous allure. kim namjoon was a master of manipulation, his beauty and charm just facets of a more profound and deadly artistry.

the morning sun cast a golden haze across the room, its rays filtering through the gauzy curtains and illuminating the opulent space in a soft, ethereal glow. you sat gracefully at the edge of a lavish, velvet-clad armchair, a picture of effortless sophistication. in your hand, you held a glass of deep, ruby-red wine, the liquid swirling gently as you lifted it to your lips. the wine’s rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of your perfume—a heady blend of jasmine and sandalwood.

there was a certain serenity in the ritual of your morning indulgence, despite the gnawing presence of alcohol's creeping dependence. the wine had become both a sanctuary and a torment, a paradoxical solace that masked the terror of its increasing hold over you. each sip was a delicate escape from the relentless pressure of your world, a brief respite before the day's demands unfolded.

as you savored the wine, your phone buzzed on the polished marble table beside you. the sharp, insistent sound shattered the tranquil cocoon you had wrapped yourself in. with a graceful motion, you reached for the device, your fingers curling around it with a practiced ease. the screen lit up with the name of your boss, and a flicker of tension passed through you.

you answered the call, your voice steady and composed despite the slight edge of apprehension that had begun to surface. “yes?” you intoned, your tone smooth but alert. the voice on the other end was cold, the authority it wielded palpable even through the phone. “listen closely,” she commanded, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken threats. “we have a high-priority target for you today. this isn’t just any assignment. you’re to eliminate kim namjoon.”

the name hit you with an unexpected force, a jolt that made you sit up straighter. you had heard whispers about him, tales spun in dark corners and hushed conversations, but it all seemed like distant lore—stories of a man who was, in your mind, nothing more than an intriguing footnote. now, the reality of the task set before you was both startling and intensely personal. “kim namjoon?” you repeated, your voice a blend of disbelief and challenge. the name rolled off your tongue, testing the weight of its significance. “i’ve heard of him. he’s part of a rival team, correct?”

“correct,” she affirmed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “he's a significant player, a dangerous one. this job requires precision. you must understand the risks. he’s not to be underestimated. we need this done cleanly and without trace. his elimination will shift the balance in our favor.” the intensity of her words sharpened the focus of the task ahead. the air around you seemed to thicken with the gravity of the assignment, the warmth of the wine now mingling with a cool edge of determination. the threat posed by namjoon wasn’t just about personal rivalry; it was a crucial move in a broader, more intricate game.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle upon your shoulders. your resolve hardened, the initial disbelief melting into a fierce, unwavering determination. “i understand,” you said, your voice resolute. “i assure you, the job will be finished in no time.” with that, the call ended, leaving you with the echo of her command and the impending challenge that loomed large in your mind. you set the wine glass down, its contents reflecting the slivers of sunlight that now seemed to pierce through your calm exterior. the stakes had been set, the target identified, and the path forward was clear.

kim namjoon would be your next conquest, a puzzle to be solved with the precision and finesse that defined your craft. the thrill of the hunt coursed through you, blending with the calm confidence you had cultivated over countless assignments. the morning’s tranquility had dissipated, replaced by a focused intensity that sharpened your every sense. the game was on, and you were ready to meet it head-on.

the morning sun peeked through the narrow gap in the curtains, casting a hazy light that filtered through the cluttered room. namjoon sat at the small kitchen table, cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. the rich aroma of the brew was a stark contrast to the disarray that surrounded him. his gaze was fixed on the scene before him—his disheveled roommate sprawled across the couch, the telltale signs of a wild night evident in the scattered cans of alcohol and the faint scent of stale beer that clung to the air.

namjoon’s distaste for alcohol was well-known, a preference rooted in the queasiness it induced rather than any moral stance. to him, the presence of the empty cans was a nauseating reminder of indulgences he avoided. he turned his attention back to the comforting warmth of his coffee, seeking solace in its steady, untroubled existence. the silence of the morning was abruptly broken by the shrill ring of his phone, an intrusion that jolted him from his thoughts. he glanced at his roommate, ensuring that the phone’s call wouldn’t disturb his friend’s slumber. with a deft motion, he picked up the phone, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he answered.

the voice on the other end was as sharp and commanding as ever. “namjoon, good morning,” his boss greeted, the tone both professional and serious. “i trust you’re ready for the next assignment?” he nodded, even though his boss couldn’t see him. “of course,” he replied, his voice steady and attentive. “what’s the task?”

there was a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, before his boss continued. “today’s assignment is likely the hardest one you’ve faced. we’ve come across a particularly elusive target. her name is (y/n) (l/n), and she’s not just any case. she’s known for her lethal precision and cunning. the stories you’ve heard about her are not mere rumors; they’re a testament to her skills.”

the gravity of the warning was palpable, and namjoon’s interest was piqued. he had heard fragmented stories about a woman of your reputation, a figure shrouded in intrigue and danger. he had never expected his path would cross with someone like you, nor had he anticipated the challenge this would present. “understood,” he said, his tone taking on a determined edge. “i’m aware of her reputation. if she’s as formidable as you say, i’ll handle it with the utmost care. rest assured, i’ll eliminate her with the precision and efficiency expected.”

the conversation concluded with a sense of mutual understanding and resolve. namjoon ended the call, his mind already strategizing the best approach to the task at hand. he looked once more at his roommate, who remained oblivious to the gravity of the conversation that had just transpired. with his coffee in hand and a newfound determination, he prepared himself for the day. the sight of the alcohol-strewn room and the hungover state of his friend were now just background noise, eclipsed by the seriousness of the mission ahead. the challenge posed by you—an enigmatic and dangerous opponent—was about to become the focal point of his day, a test of his skills and resolve that would push him to his limits.

you entered the coffee shop, the soft hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you in a warm embrace. the morning light streamed through the large windows, casting a serene glow over the rustic wooden tables and mismatched chairs. as you walked to the counter, your mind buzzed with tactical considerations, strategizing the most effective approach to handling the formidable kim namjoon. the complexities of the task at hand melded with your thoughts, each possibility and scenario swirling in your head like the delicate patterns in your latte.

you placed your order with a casual ease, the barista’s polite nods and friendly banter barely registering as you were lost in contemplation. when you finally settled into a corner booth, the quiet rustle of newspapers and the clinking of cups provided a backdrop to your musings. men around the café couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, their eyes lingering with a mix of admiration and intrigue. you were accustomed to such attention, a mere side effect of the aura you carried, but it never failed to draw your awareness.

as you were absorbed in your thoughts, a voice interrupted the solitude of your reflection. “must be tiring, isn’t it? getting looks like that all the time?” the voice was warm and smooth, laced with a hint of curiosity. you turned your head to find a man standing by your table, a friendly smile playing on his lips. he had an air of casual confidence, his demeanor effortless and disarming. you couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed to effortlessly attract the gaze of those around him, much like you did. offering him a measured smile, you replied, “it seems like you’re no stranger to stares yourself,” gesturing toward the group of women who were openly admiring him from across the room.

he laughed softly, a sound that was both genuine and charming. “true enough,” he said with a shrug. “but it’s something i’ve chosen to ignore.” you tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “would you like to join me? it looks like most of the other seats are taken.” without hesitation, he accepted your offer and slid into the seat across from you. As he settled in, he extended his hand with a graceful flourish.

“i’m kim namjoon,” he introduced himself, his voice steady and inviting. a chill ran down your spine as the name registered, a shockwave of realization coursing through you. was it fate? you fought to maintain your composure, your face draining of color as you processed the situation. with a controlled breath, you extended your own hand and offered a smile. “i’m (y/n) (l/n). it’s nice to meet you, namjoon.”

his eyes widened imperceptibly, a moment of surprise flickering across his face before he masked it with a practiced ease. you were even more striking than he had imagined from the stories he had heard—an ethereal beauty that exceeded every expectation. his heart sank slightly, a sinking feeling that hinted at the gravity of the situation.

the two of you engaged in conversation, each of you carefully concealing your underlying tension. namjoon asked about your work, his curiosity piqued. you swallowed your nerves and fabricated a story, telling him that you worked in finance. his gaze remained steady, though the mention of your profession triggered an internal churn in his stomach. he responded with a lie of his own, claiming to work in business management—an elaborate deception. as the conversation flowed, punctuated by casual laughter and probing questions, you felt the delicate balance of this encounter shift. the façade of casual coffee talk masked the underlying intensity of your real interactions. with every exchange, you assessed his reactions, every nuance of his demeanor scrutinized as you navigated this unexpected encounter.

when the time felt right, you reached into your bag and pulled out a slip of paper, extending it toward him with a nonchalant air. “here’s my number. it would be nice to continue our conversation sometime.” he accepted the slip with a genuine smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of intrigue and admiration. “i’d like that,” he said warmly, his tone sincere. “i’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

with that, you gathered your things, the weight of the morning’s revelations settling heavily on your shoulders. as you stood and made your way to the door, his gaze followed you, a lingering reminder of the complex web you had just woven. the encounter had been more than mere chance; it was a delicate dance of deception and allure, setting the stage for the intricate game that lay ahead. the bell above the café door chimed softly as you exited, leaving behind the warm, inviting space and the enigmatic man who would soon become central to your plans. the city outside bustled with its usual rhythm, but within you, a storm of anticipation and calculation brewed, your path now irrevocably entwined with his.

you paced your room with a measured intensity, the rhythmic scuff of your heels against the floor mirroring the churn of your thoughts. the walls seemed to close in, laden with the weight of strategy and anticipation. every corner of the room held a potential plan, a calculated move in the intricate game you and namjoon were unwittingly playing. the persistent buzz of your phone interrupted your brooding. you glanced at the screen, recognizing namjoon’s name. with a composed breath, you answered. “hello?”

“hey, (y/n),” his voice came through with a casual warmth. “i was wondering if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch sometime today. or am i already being too clingy?” you couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that was as light as it was genuine. “i’d love to have lunch with you, namjoon. where do you want to go?”

he suggested a charming bistro not far from where you were staying, a place known for its elegant ambiance and exquisite cuisine. you agreed, and after hanging up, you turned your attention to your wardrobe. selecting a dress that clung to your curves with just the right balance of elegance and allure, you prepared to meet your unexpected lunch companion.

arriving at the bistro, you found him already seated at a table near the window, his gaze scanning the room with an anticipation that matched your own. when he saw you, his eyes widened slightly, a clear reaction to your striking appearance. the corner of his mouth lifted in a genuine smile that softened the usual sharpness of his features.

“wow,” he said as you approached, his voice tinged with admiration. “you look amazing.” you smiled, feeling a warm flush of pleasure. “thanks. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

you both settled into the cozy booth, the soft light of the bistro casting a flattering glow on both of you. the menu was soon presented, and you made a decision almost automatically. “should we start with a bottle of wine?” you suggested, the words flowing with casual ease. his demeanor shifted subtly, a fleeting shadow crossing his face as he flinched slightly at your choice. “actually,” he began, hesitating for a moment, “i’m not really fond of alcohol.”

your curiosity was piqued. “oh? why’s that?” he leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “my father was an alcoholic. it left a pretty negative impression on me. i avoid it whenever i can.”

you noted the pained edge in his voice, your own heart twisting in sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that. let me get us a coffee instead. we can still enjoy a great meal without the wine.” namjoon’s smile brightened with genuine appreciation. “that sounds perfect. thank you.” you signaled the waiter and changed the order, opting for coffee instead. namjoon’s gratitude was evident in his appreciative nod, his eyes softening as he watched you.

the conversation flowed naturally, a gentle exchange about his father and the memories that lingered. “he was involved in some dangerous dealings,” he recounted. “the debts caught up with him, and eventually, it cost him his life. it’s a part of my past that’s hard to shake off.” you reached out, placing a comforting hand over his. “i’m truly sorry for your loss, namjoon. it must have been incredibly difficult.”

his gaze met yours, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability shining through. “thank you. it’s been a challenge, but i’ve managed to move forward. meeting someone like you today has been a nice distraction.” as the food arrived, he leaned forward to serve himself. in a moment of unanticipated clumsiness, his glass of water tipped precariously on the edge of the table. instinctively, you reached out with practiced precision, catching the glass before it could hit the floor. it fell into your grip with barely a sound.

his eyes widened as he watched the maneuver, a dawning realization of your skill and preparedness clear in his gaze. “you’re pretty adept at handling situations,” he commented, a note of surprise in his voice. you shrugged lightly, attempting to downplay the incident. “just a little bit of practice. nothing to worry about.”

with a playful smile, you encouraged him to continue enjoying the meal. as the conversation resumed, the initial tension between you seemed to ease, replaced by a genuine connection forged over shared stories and experiences. the food was delightful, and the time spent together was as pleasant as it was unexpected. both of you indulged in the meal, savoring each bite and drink as if it were a reprieve from the unspoken truths hovering just beneath the surface. the lunch was more than a simple meeting—it was an intricate dance of charm and deception, a prelude to the complexities that lay ahead.

as you and namjoon strolled back toward your place, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the natural rhythm of it making the day feel almost ordinary. the world seemed to hum in harmony, your laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the city, creating a brief respite from the tension that lurked beneath the surface.

however, as you approached a lamppost with a memorial photo attached, you felt a sudden jolt. the image on the pole was unmistakable—the face of the man you had eliminated the previous night. his eyes seemed to stare out from the photograph with a haunting, silent plea, and you shuddered involuntarily. namjoon, noticing your abrupt halt and the sudden pallor of your face, turned with concern. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

you swallowed hard, struggling to compose yourself. “i knew him,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “he was a friend.” his expression softened with empathy. “i'm sorry. that must be really tough.”

you offered him a shaky smile, appreciating his kindness. “thank you.” the two of you continued walking in contemplative silence until you reached your house. you turned to face namjoon, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm, genuine hug. it was a simple gesture, free from any ulterior motives, and as you held him close, you felt a fleeting connection that seemed both comforting and poignant.

his smile broadened as he returned the hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. “good night, (y/n),” he said softly. “i’ll see you soon.”

“good night, namjoon,” you replied, pulling away and watching him walk down the street with a bittersweet feeling.

as he made his way home, the streets began to fade into the distance, and he took out his phone. the sense of unease that had been bubbling beneath the surface now surfaced with a jolt. with a few swift taps, he brought up the details of the deceased man’s profile. his eyes widened in shock as he read the police report—the victim had been strangled to death with rope, and the case was eerily devoid of leads or footage.

his mind raced, the chilling realization of the situation dawning upon him. the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with unnerving clarity. he had just spent the afternoon with the very person who had carried out such a methodical and lethal act. the connection between you and the man on the pole was a stark revelation, and the weight of the truth settled heavily upon him. he shuddered, his thoughts spinning as he grappled with the realization of who you truly were—and what he now had to confront. the night seemed to grow darker and more foreboding as he walked, each step echoing the grim understanding that had just settled into his gut.

the next evening, you found yourself once again in the opulent embrace of the hotel. the grand ballroom, resplendent with its glimmering chandeliers and elaborate decor, was a far cry from the grim memories it held for you. the place where you had claimed your previous victim now seemed almost serene, its beauty contrasting starkly with the dark deeds that had unfolded within its walls. with practiced ease, you adjusted the earpiece nestled in your ear and connected with your boss. the cool, metallic voice of your superior resonated through the small device, crisp and unwavering.

“(y/n), are you in position?” the voice inquired. “yes,” you replied, your tone steady. “i'm monitoring the cctv feeds now. the hallways are clear, and namjoon should be arriving soon.”

“good. remember, we need to ensure the task is completed efficiently. keep your wits about you and stay focused.”

“understood,” you said, disconnecting the call and turning your attention back to the array of monitors before you. the security cameras provided a meticulous view of the hotel's layout, allowing you to track every movement with precision. your gaze was fixed on the entrance, waiting for namjoon’s arrival. when he finally appeared, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his striking features, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anticipation. he moved with a confident grace that only added to his allure, and you watched as he navigated through the crowd.

as soon as he entered the room, you swiftly disconnected from the monitoring feed, leaving the cameras to their own devices. you made your way through the throng of elegantly dressed guests, your heart beating with an unusual mixture of excitement and trepidation. “namjoon!” you called out, your smile warm as you approached him. he turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “hey, you look absolutely stunning.”

“thank you,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “should we head to the bar? i thought we might enjoy a drink.” the two of you made your way to the bar, the conversation flowing as naturally as it had the day before. you refrained from drinking, choosing instead to sip on sparkling water, a choice that did not go unnoticed by him. he observed you with a blend of admiration and curiosity.

“why no drinks tonight?” he asked, leaning closer to you, his voice a soft murmur. you met his gaze with a calm smile. “just a personal preference. i don't wanna drink in front of you.”

his heart swelled at your sincerity. “that’s admirable. i wish i had your self-control.”

after some time spent in pleasant conversation and gentle flirtation, you glanced at him with a knowing look. “if the noise gets too overwhelming, i’ve rented out a room here. we can escape the crowd if you’d like.” he seemed intrigued and a bit relieved. “that sounds like a great idea. lead the way.”

you guided him through the bustling crowd, the stares of other guests momentarily ignored as you made your way to the reserved room. the door closed behind you with a soft click, and an almost palpable shift occurred in the atmosphere. the room, dimly lit and serene, was a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the gala. as you stood there, his gaze was filled with a mix of awe and longing. without a word, he closed the distance between you, his eyes locked onto yours with a intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in slowly, and you felt his lips brush against yours in a tentative, electrifying kiss.

you responded with equal fervor, your lips meeting his with a growing urgency. the kiss deepened, turning heated and passionate as the world outside seemed to fade away. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as his lips moved with a fervent intensity. your fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him as the kiss became a fervent dance of desire and need.

his hands traveled to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you to the bed. you landed softly on the plush surface, your body arching slightly as namjoon followed, his lips never leaving yours. the bed beneath you was a luxurious expanse, and the sensation of his body pressing against yours was intoxicating.

his kisses trailed from your lips to your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he explored your skin. you moaned softly, the sound mingling with the rustling of fabric as he undressed you with a careful urgency. his touches were both tender and possessive, his desire evident in every caress. “you feel incredible,” he whispered between kisses, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “show me,” you breathed, your hands pulling him closer as the night unfolded in a passionate dance of exploration and desire. the world outside became a distant memory as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the intensity of your connection making every touch, every kiss, a thrilling and unforgettable experience.

his fingers traced the contours of your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a reverence that made you feel worshipped. his eyes, dark with lust, took in the sight of you laid bare before him. “so pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. you felt a rush of heat pool in your belly at his words, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. your hands found the hem of his shirt, and with a quick tug, you pulled it over his head, revealing the firm planes of his chest.

his skin was warm and smooth under your fingertips, and you took a moment to appreciate the sculpted muscles and the faint scent of his cologne that lingered. your eyes traveled down to the waistband of his pants, and a devilish smile played on your lips. you bit your bottom lip, and with a seductive glance, began to unbuckle his belt. namjoon watched you, his pupils dilated with anticipation.

once his pants were discarded, you took in the full view of him, your eyes widening with desire. he was already hard, his arousal clear and prominent. you reached out, your hand lightly brushing against his length, and he hissed through gritted teeth. you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. “fuck, you’re so big,” you said, a hint of wonder in your voice.

his hips rolled into your touch, and he groaned, his head falling back. “yeah, baby, just like that,” he encouraged, his voice low and strained. you stroked him slowly, savoring the feel of his skin, hot and velvety under your palm. “you’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. your heart raced as you felt the power of his desire in your grasp. “i want you so badly,” you admitted, your voice a breathy whisper.

his hand reached down to cup your cheek, pulling you back up for a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your veins. you could feel his urgency, the need to claim you, to make you his in every way possible. your hand didn’t stop moving, but instead picked up the pace, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. “i need to be inside you,” he growled, his control slipping.

his words sent a bolt of excitement through you, and you nodded eagerly. he reached for a condom from the bedside drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with a practiced ease. the anticipation was palpable as he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. you took a deep breath, ready for the delicious stretch as he pushed inside you.

his first thrust was slow and deliberate, filling you completely. you gasped at the sensation, your nails digging into his shoulders. “fuck, yes,” you moaned, your back arching to meet him. he began to move, his rhythm steady and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. with each stroke, the pleasure built, your body responding to him in a symphony of sensation.

you matched his pace, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans of pleasure. his grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more forceful. “you’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice gruff with need.

you couldn’t help but let out a filthy response, the words rolling off your tongue with surprising ease. “i’ve been waiting for this all night. need you to fuck me hard, namjoon.” your words seemed to push him over the edge, and he obeyed, his hips driving into you with a newfound ferocity. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

his thrusts grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached climax. you felt your own orgasm building, your muscles clenching around him. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned, his voice tight. you nodded, your eyes locked on his, and together, you fell over the edge, your bodies writhing in a delicious crescendo of pleasure. his release came, moans rolling off his tongue, and you felt yourself shatter around him, the intensity of your climax stealing your breath. for a moment, you were lost in the feeling, your bodies joined as one. as the waves of pleasure receded, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

when dawn’s first light filtered through the thin curtains, you awoke to the disorienting haze of reality. the hotel room, now bathed in soft morning light, seemed almost serene compared to the passionate chaos of the night before. you lay on the bed beside namjoon, his body sprawled in a relaxed, innocent slumber, entirely unaware of the dangerous path that had led to this moment.

the memories of last night crashed over you like a tumultuous wave. the intimate connection you had shared with him, the unexpected depth of your feelings, and the chaotic rush of desire—all of it felt like a vivid, intoxicating dream. but reality was a stark contrast. you had a mission, a job to complete, and the time for pleasure had long since passed. as you slowly and carefully disentangled yourself from his warm embrace, you glanced at him. he was completely vulnerable, his handsome face serene and peaceful, the picture of tranquility. it was then that you remembered the task that had been set before you: to eliminate him. you had let your guard down, and it could cost you dearly.

your hand instinctively reached under the pillow where you had left it the night before. your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. the sensation sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. your breath caught in your throat as you realized what you were holding—a gun. It was not your own; it was an unfamiliar weight that felt both foreign and foreboding. you pulled the gun from beneath the pillow, its cold metal a harsh reminder of the deadly precision required of your role. for a moment, your hand trembled around the grip. the thought of ending his life right then and there, of completing the mission with ruthless efficiency, was overpowering. his calm breathing, so close to you, only added to the intensity of the moment.

you aimed the gun at him, pressing it into his haie, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him. every instinct told you to pull the trigger, to end it all quickly and cleanly. but as you tightened your grip, the weight of the decision pressed down on you with crushing force. anger and frustration surged within you. it was supposed to be a straightforward task, a mere job to be done. yet here you were, paralyzed by your own conflicted emotions.

the gun felt heavy in your hand, the responsibility of the act you were about to commit weighing down on you. you cursed under your breath, a raw, guttural sound that seemed to echo your inner turmoil. your eyes burned with unshed tears as you fought with the impulse to follow through with the assassination. the gun trembled in your grasp, your resolve wavering as the reality of what you were about to do loomed large.

in a fit of anger and desperation, you hastily shoved the gun back under the pillow, as though trying to hide the physical manifestation of your internal struggle. you shoved on your dress with frantic movements, your fingers fumbling with the fabric as if it were a shield against the overwhelming emotions crashing over you. without another glance at him, you fled the room. the hallway outside seemed unnervingly quiet, each step echoing with the weight of your decision. your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as you made your way through the hotel, each step driven by the desperate need to escape the oppressive weight of your failure. the mission had become a tangle of conflicting desires and stark reality, and you were left with the knowledge that you had to confront both, no matter how painful it might be.

the morning had settled into a quiet, contemplative silence as you sank into your armchair, the soothing warmth of the wine mingling with the turmoil in your mind. the shower had washed away the remnants of the night, but it did little to cleanse the confusion and guilt swirling within you. your hair was pinned up, an effort to restore some semblance of order to the chaos you felt inside. the half-empty wine bottle on the table served as a silent testament to your attempts at solace.

as you took another sip, the doorbell’s chime shattered the solitude. your heart skipped a beat. the sound seemed to carry an unspoken promise of complication. you set your glass aside and padded to the door, bracing yourself for whatever awaited you on the other side.

opening the door revealed namjoon, his presence as strikingly composed as ever. his soft smile greeted you, its warmth contrasting sharply with the chill of your internal disarray. “i hope i’m not intruding,” he said, his voice smooth and gentle. you blinked, momentarily lost for words. “not at all,” you managed, stepping aside to let him in. as he crossed the threshold, his gaze fell upon the nearly empty wine bottle, its presence seeming to draw an involuntary frown from his lips.

“do you drink this often?” he inquired, a note of concern edging his tone. you offered a wan smile, trying to mask the discomfort brewing beneath the surface. “i drink as often as i can,” you admitted, trying to sound casual despite the tumult within you.

his eyes softened as he looked at you. “how about we lighten the mood a bit? any plans for today?” relief washed over you at his attempt to steer the conversation away from the wine. “actually, no plans at all,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope. “would you like some breakfast? i could use the company.”

his smile broadened, and he agreed readily. “i’d love that.” you led him to the kitchen, your heart racing with an unsettling mix of anxiety and anticipation. as you prepared breakfast, the knife felt heavier than usual in your hand. each slice through the vegetables seemed to echo with the weight of your thoughts. you clenched the knife tightly, struggling to maintain composure, but namjoon’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“are you uncomfortable with what happened last night?” his question was gentle, but it carried an undertone of concern that only deepened your internal conflict. you tensed momentarily, the knife’s grip tightening in your hand. “no, not at all,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “what about you?”

his smile was reassuring, but it did little to ease the knot in your stomach. “i enjoyed it quite a bit,” he admitted, his eyes holding a glint of sincerity. his compliment, however genuine, did little to dissolve the worry gnawing at you. you could feel his gaze on you as you worked, his presence a constant reminder of the dangerous duality of your situation. yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you couldn’t help but appreciate his genuine demeanor.

as you plated the food, you made a conscious effort to push the wine bottle out of sight, its dark contents now a symbol of a past you wanted to distance yourself from. the wine in your glass met the sink’s drain, a small but significant act of cleansing. namjoon’s eyes widened slightly at the gesture, and he offered a look of quiet gratitude.

the breakfast was pleasant, if a bit tense. as you neared the end of the meal, an idea took shape. “would you be interested in going to the local fair with me?” you asked, trying to offer a distraction from the lingering unease. namjoon’s face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “that sounds like a great idea. i’d love to.”

as you finished clearing the table, the simple, shared activity brought a momentary respite from the tangled web of your thoughts. the fair, with its bright lights and cheerful bustle, seemed like a perfect escape—a chance to savor normalcy amidst the chaos. little did you know, the fair would bring its own set of revelations and challenges, testing the fragile truce you had established with yourself and with namjoon.

the fair was alive with vibrant hues and lively sounds, a kaleidoscope of lights and music weaving through the crisp evening air. the scent of popcorn and cotton candy mingled with the excitement of the crowd, creating a sensory tapestry that seemed to momentarily lift the weight from your shoulders. namjoon’s presence beside you was both comforting and disconcerting, a constant reminder of the complexity of your situation.

as you strolled past the myriad of stalls and attractions, his enthusiasm was infectious. his laughter rang out, mingling with the ambient noise of the fair, as he pointed out various games and food stands. “you have to try that one,” he said, gesturing toward a colorful stall where a shooting game was set up. curiosity piqued, you followed him to the stand. The game was simple: shoot a gun at moving targets to win a prize. the booth was adorned with bright lights and plush toys, each one more garish than the last. the carnival worker handed namjoon a toy gun with a grin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he took it with casual confidence.

his demeanor was relaxed, his face lit up with a childlike excitement as he aimed at the targets. the way his fingers wrapped around the gun was almost graceful, and you could see the focus in his eyes as he lined up each shot. goosebumps pricked your skin, an involuntary reaction to the intensity of the moment. the steady click of the gun punctuated the otherwise joyous cacophony of the fair. each shot he took was precise, hitting the center of the targets with unerring accuracy. his movements were fluid and practiced, a testament to his skill and composure. as he finished, he set the gun down with a satisfied nod, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“you’re really good at that,” you commented, trying to mask the unease that had settled in your chest. his smile widened, and he reached over to collect his prize—a large, plush stuffed toy, its bright colors and oversized eyes almost comical. he turned to you, his expression a mix of pride and affection. “here,” he said, extending the toy toward you with a charming grin. “i think this is for you.”

your fingers brushed against his as you took the stuffed toy, and you could feel the warmth of his touch linger on your skin. the toy was soft and absurdly large, its beady eyes staring up at you with an innocent expression. despite the cheerful facade, you couldn’t shake the cold, creeping sensation that the toy represented something far more ominous.

you accepted it with a smile, but your mind was racing. the stuffed toy felt like a symbol, a reminder of the precarious balance between your roles as predator and prey. you stared at the toy, its bright, plush exterior now a stark contrast to the dark reality that lurked beneath the surface. his gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. “i thought it might make you smile,” he said, his voice tender. “do you like it?”

you forced a smile, nodding as you clutched the toy a little too tightly. “it’s very thoughtful,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. the toy seemed to loom larger in your hands, a reminder of the mission that still awaited you. you had promised yourself that you would finish what you had started, but in that moment, amidst the lights and laughter of the fair, you found it increasingly difficult to reconcile your feelings.

his expression remained hopeful, his gaze never wavering. “let’s walk around a bit more,” he suggested, seemingly oblivious to the internal battle raging within you. you nodded, trying to push your worries aside and focus on the present. as you continued to wander through the fair, the toy felt like a weight around your neck, a reminder of the danger and deception that hovered just beneath the surface of your seemingly normal day. the fair was a fleeting escape, a chance to revel in the illusion of normalcy, but the shadows of your true mission loomed ever closer, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you had managed to cultivate.

the two of you eventually found a bench situated beneath a canopy of fairy lights, their gentle glow casting a warm aura over the space. the bench offered a moment of respite from the sensory overload of the fair, and you both settled down, the lively sounds of the carnival muted by the small oasis of tranquility.

as you sat side by side, you watched the children running around with boundless energy, their laughter mingling with the distant music of the fair. the sight brought a soft smile to your lips, a fleeting sense of nostalgia for something you had longed for but never quite had. “i’ve always wanted to be a mother,” you admitted, your voice almost wistful as you watched the joyous chaos before you. “seeing these kids, it just makes me realize how much i’ve dreamed about it.”

namjoon turned his gaze from the playful scene to you, his eyes reflecting a genuine warmth. “i can’t imagine you not being a wonderful mother,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “you have such a kind heart. i’m sure you’d be amazing at it.”

the compliment warmed you more than you expected, and you glanced at him with a tender smile. “thank you. that means a lot coming from you. what about you? have you ever thought about being a father?” namjoon’s eyes darkened slightly, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his features. he took a deep breath before responding. “yeah, i’ve thought about it. i always wanted to be a dad someday. i just don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

you could sense the weight of his words, the way they tugged at his heart. “you’re nothing like him,” you assured him, your voice firm yet gentle. “i’ve seen how you are with people, how you handle things. you’re kind, thoughtful. you’re not defined by your father’s mistakes.”

a pang of vulnerability flashed across his face, and for a moment, he looked lost in thought. he managed a small, grateful smile, though it was tinged with sadness. “it’s hard not to feel like i’m stuck in his shadow sometimes,” he admitted. “but hearing you say that—it helps.” the sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache, and you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “you’re creating your own path, namjoon. you have your own values and your own way of being. don’t let his past define your future.”

his smile widened slightly, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “thank you. i guess i needed to hear that.” you both sat there for a moment, the carnival’s vibrant activity humming softly in the background. the connection between you felt genuine and poignant, the weight of your respective burdens momentarily lifted by shared understanding.

as the evening drew on and the lights of the fair glimmered around you, the conversation deepened, weaving a tapestry of hope and reflection amidst the backdrop of the carnival. the simple joys of the fair seemed to highlight the more profound truths you both were navigating, bringing a sense of clarity and closeness that neither of you had anticipated.

the evening had passed in a tranquil haze, and as you finally arrived home, the comforting stillness of your home seemed to envelop you. the echoes of laughter and joy from the fair faded behind you, leaving only the soft hum of your own thoughts.

you were in the midst of unwinding, removing your shoes and loosening your coat, when the sharp ring of your phone broke the serene quiet. the caller id displayed your boss's name, and a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. you answered, the line crackling with the unmistakable edge of frustration. “where have you been?” her voice cut through the air like a blade, its harshness bringing you back to the present with a jolt. “you were supposed to be focused. the mission isn't over. it’s crucial that you finish it.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the surge of guilt and urgency her words stirred. “i understand. i was preoccupied, but i’ll get back on track immediately.” the silence on the other end was brief but heavy, her displeasure palpable. “you have a job to do. this is not a game. you’re dealing with someone who’s as dangerous as they come. i need results, not distractions.”

with a firm sigh, you replied, “i’ll get it done. i promise.” the call ended abruptly, leaving you with a lingering sense of urgency. your gaze drifted to the drawer where you had carefully stored your weapon. with a mixture of resolve and trepidation, you walked over and pulled it open. your fingers closed around the cold, metal grip of the pistol, its weight a stark reminder of the gravity of your task.

you took a moment to steady your breathing, the echoes of the evening’s warmth fading into the background. the contrast between the peaceful day and the chilling reality of your mission was stark. As you clicked the safety off and checked the chamber, a steely determination took hold. tonight, you promised yourself, the job would be done. the warmth of your recent encounters would be set aside, replaced by the icy focus necessary to carry out your orders. the boundaries between personal and professional were blurred, but you had to navigate the dangerous dance with precision.

the night air was crisp and sharp as you approached his house, the weight of the pistol heavy in your hand. each step felt deliberate, every breath a careful measure against the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the street was quiet, shadows playing tricks in the moonlight as you neared the front door, which stood ajar. your heart raced as a chill of apprehension ran down your spine.

you hesitated, the open door a harbinger of foreboding. had he anticipated your arrival, or was something else afoot? the usual calm of his home felt eerie in its silence. you stepped inside, the creak of the floorboards loud in the stillness. you moved with practiced stealth, checking each room with growing trepidation. the soft murmurs you heard drew you upstairs, the sounds of struggle and muffled voices leading you to his bedroom.

the door was slightly open, and you pushed it gently, your pulse quickening. the sight that greeted you was one you hadn’t anticipated. the room was a disarray of empty beer cans, a stark contrast to the polished image you had seen earlier. namjoon was pinned against the wall, his roommate's hands wrapped around his throat in a desperate, violent struggle. the scene was raw, the tension palpable.

for a moment, you were frozen, shock and horror warring within you. but the urgency of the situation jolted you into action. with a swift, practiced movement, you pulled the pistol from your holster. the shot rang out, a sharp crack that cut through the chaos. the roommate crumpled to the floor, his body going limp as a bullet found its mark in his head. namjoon fell to his knees, gasping for breath, tears streaking down his face.

you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him. “namjoon, are you okay? What happened?” your voice trembled with a mixture of fear and concern as you pulled him into your arms. hee clung to you, his sobs muffled against your shoulder. “he was an assassin,” he gasped between ragged breaths. “a part of a rival group. he came after me—and i couldn’t stop him.” his voice broke, the weight of his words pressing down heavily.

you looked around the room, the sea of empty beer cans now a grim symbol of his internal struggle. “what’s with all the beer cans?” you asked, trying to piece together the fragments of the night’s horror. namjoon swallowed hard, his voice strained. “he drank—a lot. the alcohol, it brought up old memories. bad ones,” he hesitated, a pained expression crossing his face. “i killed my own father, you know. it was me who took his life. the alcohol made him violent, it twisted his mind. i couldn’t stop it.”

the revelation hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you reeling. the man you had come to care for was entangled in a web of violence and guilt. you tried to offer comfort, your own shock mingling with the empathy you felt for him.

“did you know about me? about who i am?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. you nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. “i did.”

he seemed to digest this, a troubled look crossing his face. “and i knew about you too. i left the gun under the pillow, to see if you would use it. when you didn’t, i knew you wouldn’t kill me.” the admission struck you hard. his confession left you feeling as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. the intricate dance of deceit and truth that had bound you both seemed to unravel in an instant. your heart pounded painfully in your chest as you grappled with the realization.

despite the turmoil inside you, holding him in your arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, felt strangely precious. the notion of completing your mission seemed to fade in the face of his vulnerability. you tried to fight it, but the connection you felt was undeniable. his presence, despite everything, seemed more valuable than the task at hand.

as you held him close, the night’s darkness seemed to swirl around you, a reminder of the tangled, violent path that had brought you together. in the midst of the chaos, one thing was clear: the boundaries between duty and desire had blurred, leaving you both grappling with the consequences of a night that had irrevocably changed everything.

you held him close, the weight of the night crashing down on you as you tried to steady your racing heart. his tears mingled with yours as the gravity of your shared truths settled around you. his face was flushed, eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and sorrow as he clung to you.

in a moment of aching tenderness, you cupped his face gently, your fingers trembling. you leaned in, pressing a soft, bittersweet kiss to his lips. the kiss was delicate, a fleeting touch that conveyed a world of regret and unspoken emotions. the taste of his lips lingered, a painful reminder of everything that had led to this moment.

tears streamed down your cheeks, the sorrow overwhelming. you pulled back, the anguish in your eyes mirrored in his own. “i’m so sorry, namjoon,” you whispered through your sobs. “i’m so sorry.”

his confusion deepened, the words you spoke only adding to the turmoil. as you stood up, a fresh resolve hardened in your chest. with shaking hands, you pulled the gun from your side, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your tears. you raised it slowly, pressing the barrel to his forehead. his eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as he stared up at you.

but you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. you turned away, the enormity of your actions crashing over you like a relentless wave. your fingers tightened around the trigger, the weight of your decision feeling unbearable. the muffled sound of the gunshot echoed in the small room, reverberating through your very soul. the finality of it struck you hard, and you stumbled backward, feeling as though your heart was being wrenched from your chest.

standing amidst the wreckage of your emotions, you fumbled for your phone. with a final, heavy sigh, you dialed your boss's number, each ring a jarring reminder of the mission that had led to this. the call connected, and your voice was shaky but resolute.

“it’s done,” you said quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “the job’s finished.”

✧.*

a/n: this hurt to write omg if yall want a happy ending lmk bc...

smile for me (웃어줘) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.*

fate was a silent sculptor, a force that worked with the grace of a master artisan, molding the raw clay of existence into shapes unforeseen. it was an entity shrouded in mystery, an invisible thread weaver, pulling taut the strands of your life with an artistry both cruel and kind. every choice, every chance encounter, every seemingly trivial moment—fate held them in its delicate hands, spinning them into the tapestry of your existence.

but fate was not a mere craftsman; it was an omnipotent architect, capable of constructing entire worlds with a single breath. it could raise mountains of joy or carve deep valleys of despair with equal precision. it had the power to guide your steps down paths you never intended to tread, to bring you to your knees with the weight of its decisions, or to lift you to heights unimaginable, where the air was thin and every breath felt like a gift.

in its infinite wisdom, fate was both a gentle whisper and a thunderous roar. it spoke to you in the quiet moments of dawn, when the sky blushed with the promise of a new day, and it shouted at you in the chaos of a storm, when the winds howled with untamed ferocity. it was the unseen hand that nudged you towards love when your heart was unguarded and the ruthless tyrant that tore it away when you least expected it.

you knew that fate was not to be questioned. it was an ancient force, older than time itself, a presence that moved through the ages with a purpose unfathomable to mortal minds. it carried within it the echoes of a million lifetimes, the hopes and dreams of those who had come before you, and the silent prayers of those yet to be born. it was neither kind nor cruel, neither friend nor foe; it simply was.

the weight of nostalgia wrapped around you like a heavy blanket as your thoughts drifted back to those tender years when love was a golden thread that tied you and taeyong together. you were both so young, too young to understand the depth of the feelings that had blossomed between you, yet old enough to believe that what you shared was something eternal. it was the kind of love that flourished in secret, nurtured by stolen glances and whispered words under the cover of twilight. you could still remember the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, a brilliant, unwavering gaze that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. he had always been like that—intense, focused, as though nothing else mattered when you were together.

there was one evening, a memory still vivid in your mind, when the two of you had escaped to the old playground behind the school. the swings creaked with age, and the air was thick with the scent of rain that had just passed. you sat side by side, your hands barely touching, as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold.

“do you think we’ll always be like this?” you had asked him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. it was a question that carried the weight of your unspoken fears—the fear that this moment, like all things, would eventually fade.

taeyong had turned to you, his expression serious, but his eyes held that familiar warmth. “i don’t know what the future holds,” he had replied, his voice steady, “but as long as you’re here, i’ll be happy.” he reached for your hand then, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt both comforting and electrifying. you had smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin, anchoring you to that moment, to him. it was one of those rare times when the world seemed to stop, and all that existed was the two of you, together.

but the world didn’t stop, and neither did time. there were other memories, too—nights spent talking about dreams and fears, of futures you dared not imagine without each other. he had always been the more daring of the two, the one who would pull you into the unknown with a laugh and a promise that it would all be okay. and it always was, as long as he was by your side.

yet, nothing lasted forever. the inevitability of change came crashing into your life on a day that should have been ordinary. you could still hear the sound of your mother’s voice breaking as she delivered the news—the kind of news that shatters the world you thought you knew.

your sister was gone. the accident had been swift, merciless, taking her from you without warning, without time to prepare or to say goodbye. the grief that followed was a dark, suffocating cloud that settled over your home, over your heart. and with it came the decision that would alter the course of your life.

“we’re moving to gangnam,” your father had said, his voice heavy with a resolve that left no room for argument. it was meant to be a fresh start, a way to escape the memories that haunted every corner of your old life. but for you, it was the end of everything you knew, including your relationship with taeyong. you could still remember the day you told him. it was the last day of summer, the air thick with the scent of autumn just around the corner. you met him at the park, the same place where so many of your memories had been made. but this time, there was no laughter, no lightheartedness. only the heavy weight of what you had to say.

“i’m leaving,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “my family, we’re moving to gangnam. i don’t have a choice.”

taeyong’s eyes widened, disbelief and pain flashing across his face. “no, you can’t,” he murmured, stepping closer to you as if he could somehow change the reality with his presence alone. “we’ll find a way, we always do.”

but there was no way this time, and you both knew it. the distance, the grief, the weight of everything that had happened—it was too much. you shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “we can’t, tae. this time, it really is goodbye.” he was silent for a long time, the kind of silence that felt like it stretched on forever, as if the world itself was holding its breath. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, filled with a sadness that broke your heart all over again. “i don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

you finally looked up at him, your vision blurred with unshed tears. “neither do i,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “but we don’t have a choice.”

he took your hand then, just as he had so many times before, but this time it felt different—final. he held it tightly, as if trying to memorize the feel of your skin against his, as if this one touch could somehow bridge the distance that was about to come between you.

“promise me something,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “promise me you’ll be happy, no matter what happens.” you nodded, unable to find the words. your throat was tight, your heart breaking with every second that passed. but you knew you had to let him go, just as he had to let you go.

he smiled at you then, a sad, beautiful smile that you knew you would carry with you for the rest of your life. “smile for me,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. “just once more, before you go.”

you forced yourself to smile, though it felt like your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“i’ll never forget you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “no matter where you go, or how much time passes. i’ll never forget.” you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of that moment, knowing it was the last you would share. when you opened them again, he was already stepping back, his hand slipping from yours as if he was afraid to hold on too tightly, afraid to break you both. you watched him go, your heart aching with every step he took away from you. and when he was finally gone, you stood there for what felt like hours, the weight of the goodbye settling over you like a heavy, unbearable burden.

and though you eventually turned and walked away, leaving behind the park, the memories, and the boy you had once loved, you knew that a part of you would always remain there, with him, in the echoes of your past.

time had a way of healing wounds, softening the sharp edges of pain until they became manageable, like scars that faded but never entirely disappeared. after the storm of your past, you had found solace in creation, in the art of storytelling, where you could lose yourself in worlds of your own making. it was there, behind the lens of a camera, that you found your true calling.

filmmaking became your salvation. each frame you captured, each story you brought to life, was a step forward—a way to channel your grief, your loss, and the remnants of love that still lingered in the corners of your heart. you poured yourself into your work, every script a piece of your soul, every scene a reflection of your journey.

there was one film in particular, one that marked the turning point in your career and life. it was a story about love and loss, about the inevitability of change and the beauty that could still be found within it. it was a story that, in many ways, mirrored your own, though you kept that truth hidden beneath layers of fiction.

on the day of the premiere, you stood at the back of the theater, watching as the audience was drawn into the world you had created. the lights dimmed, the opening scene played, and you felt a sense of pride swell within you—a pride that you had not felt in a long time. you had done it. you had taken the broken pieces of your heart and crafted them into something beautiful, something that resonated with others.

when the lights came up and the applause filled the room, you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes, to let the sound wash over you. it was more than just success; it was a validation of everything you had been through, a sign that you had not only survived but thrived.

later, as you mingled with guests at the after-party, you found yourself surrounded by admirers—people who had been touched by your work, who saw in you the talent and drive that had carried you this far. but amid the congratulations and praise, there was one moment that stood out above the rest.

a young aspiring filmmaker approached you, her eyes wide with admiration. “your film, it was incredible,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “i’ve always wanted to make films, but i never thought i could do it. watching your work, it’s made me believe that maybe i can.”

you smiled at her, seeing a reflection of your younger self in her eyes. “you can,” you assured her, your voice steady and warm. “if you have a story to tell, then nothing should stop you from telling it. the world needs to hear it, and you’re the only one who can share it in your way.” she beamed at your words, and you felt a deep sense of fulfillment knowing that you had inspired someone else to follow their dreams. it was in that moment that you realized how far you had come, not just in your career, but in your journey of healing.

the years had been kind to you, and as you continued to create, to tell stories that moved and inspired, you found that the pain of the past had become a source of strength, rather than a burden. you had taken the darkest chapters of your life and turned them into art, into something that could touch the hearts of others and remind them that there was always hope, even in the face of loss.

but you were not the only one who had found success in the years that followed your breakup with taeyong. he, too, had risen to the heights of his potential, carving out a name for himself in the world of acting. he had always possessed a natural talent, a charisma that drew people to him, both on and off the screen. his presence was magnetic, his performances imbued with a raw intensity that captivated audiences. he had a way of slipping into his roles, of becoming the characters he portrayed, with a depth that left those who watched him breathless.

you heard about his success in the way one might hear about the weather—a constant, ever-present topic of conversation among those in your circle. his name was on the lips of critics and fans alike, his face gracing the covers of magazines, his performances earning him accolades and awards.

there was one film, in particular, that catapulted him into the spotlight, a gritty drama that required him to delve into the darkest recesses of the human experience. it was a role that demanded everything from him, both physically and emotionally, and he delivered with a performance that was nothing short of transformative.

as you watched the film, you couldn’t help but be struck by how far he had come, how much he had grown since those days when the two of you had been just a couple of kids with big dreams. he had taken the raw potential that you had always seen in him and honed it into something extraordinary.

his eyes, those same eyes that had once looked at you with so much love, now held a depth of emotion that spoke of experience, of a life lived and lessons learned. he was no longer the boy you had loved; he was a man who had faced his demons and come out stronger for it. in interviews, he spoke with the same quiet confidence that you remembered, but there was a wisdom in his words now, a maturity that came from the years that had passed. “acting is more than just pretending,” he once said during a particularly poignant interview. “it’s about understanding, about feeling deeply and sharing that with the world. it’s about connection.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him speak, recognizing the passion in his voice, the same passion that had driven you both to pursue your dreams. he had found his place in the world, just as you had found yours, and though your paths had diverged, there was a sense of pride in knowing that you had both made it.

the years had changed you both, in ways that were both subtle and profound. but as you reflected on all that had happened, on the successes and the sorrows, you realized that there was no regret in your heart. the love you had shared with him had been beautiful in its time, and though it had ended, it had left you both with something invaluable—a strength that carried you through the darkest times, and a determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles. and so, you continued to create, to inspire, to tell stories that mattered. and somewhere out there, taeyong did the same, each of you living the life that you had once dreamed of, finding your place in the world, and knowing that, in some way, you would always be connected by the memories of a love that had shaped you both.

the world had always been a stage for taeyong, a place where he could perform, transform, and transcend the boundaries of the ordinary. the lights, the cameras, the applause—these were the constants in his life, the elements that shaped him and gave him purpose. yet behind the scenes, away from the adoring fans and the glittering awards, there were moments that never made it to the silver screen. moments where the performance slipped, and reality seeped in, raw and unforgiving.

it was a day like any other, the sun bright against the city skyline, casting long shadows that danced along the pavement. taeyong found himself at the doctor's office, a place that had become all too familiar over the past few months. he had always been diligent about his health, keeping up with his annual check-ups, even when his schedule was packed. but this visit carried a weight that he had been trying to ignore, a heaviness that settled in his chest as he sat in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine without really seeing the pages.

when the nurse called his name, he stood, his movements fluid, graceful—an actor slipping into a role. he followed her down the hallway, past the sterile walls and closed doors, until they reached the examination room. the nurse smiled at him, a practiced, polite smile, before leaving him to wait.

and so he waited, the seconds stretching into minutes, each one a reminder of why he was here. he looked around the room, at the medical posters on the walls, the jars of tongue depressors and cotton balls, the examination table covered in crisp white paper. it all felt surreal, like a scene in one of his films, only this time there was no script, no director to call cut.

finally, the door opened, and doctor kim entered, his expression calm and measured, though taeyong could see the strain behind his eyes. they had known each other for years, the doctor having been a constant in his life, someone who had seen him through the ups and downs of his career, who had celebrated his successes and supported him through the tough times.

“taeyong,” the doctor greeted him with a nod, taking a seat at his desk. he pulled out a file, flipping it open and scanning the contents before looking up. “how have you been feeling?”

he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his smile easy, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “good, i suppose. busy, as always. the new project’s been keeping me on my toes.”

the doctor nodded, though his focus remained on the file in front of him. he let out a quiet sigh, closing the folder with a soft snap. “taeyong, we need to talk about your test results.” there it was, the moment he had been dreading, the words he had hoped he would never have to hear again. he kept his expression neutral, though his heart pounded in his chest. “has it gotten worse?” he asked, his voice steady, but there was a tension there, a crack beneath the surface.

the doctor's gaze softened, and taeyong could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of what he had to say. “i’m afraid so,” he replied quietly. “the cancer has spread.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on taeyong’s shoulders like a physical force. he swallowed hard, his throat tight, but he didn’t let his composure falter. “well,” he said, forcing a smile, “i guess that’ll make for an interesting documentary, don’t you think? the story of an actor battling against the odds. it’s got drama, emotion, everything a good film needs.”

but the attempt at levity fell flat, the joke hollow in the face of reality. doctor kim didn’t smile. instead, he leaned forward, his voice gentle, full of compassion. “taeyong, i’m so sorry. i know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.” for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. he stared at the floor, his vision blurring at the edges as the reality of the situation crashed down on him. the dreams he had, the plans for the future—all of it suddenly felt fragile, like glass that could shatter with the slightest touch.

he had always been in control, always the one who called the shots, who decided how his story would be told. but now, now he was faced with something that he couldn’t direct, something that wouldn’t follow the script he had written for himself.

“i thought i had more time,” he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought, i could beat this.”

despite it all, he managed a weak smile, though his mind was already racing, trying to process what this meant for him, for his career, for the life he had built. he had always been a fighter, someone who never gave up, no matter how tough the battle. but now, it felt like a war he wasn’t sure he could win.

the studio was your sanctuary, a place where creativity flowed freely and the boundaries of reality blurred into the world of film. the walls were lined with storyboards, sketches, and notes, each one a fragment of a story waiting to be told. the room was filled with the soft hum of computers, the quiet rustling of papers, and the muted conversations of your team as they worked diligently on the myriad of projects you had taken on.

you stood in the center of it all, surrounded by the familiar chaos, yet your mind was already elsewhere, lost in the labyrinth of ideas that always seemed to pull you in a hundred different directions. the morning light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the space, but you barely noticed, too engrossed in the task at hand—a script that demanded your attention, characters that needed your voice to bring them to life.

“hey, boss,” a voice broke through your concentration, and you looked up to see one of your team members standing at the door, a hesitant smile on her face. “got a minute?” you sighed, setting the script down on the cluttered table and running a hand through your hair. “barely,” you replied with a weary smile. “i’m buried under a mountain of work, but go on. what’s up?”

the team member exchanged glances with the others in the room, a silent communication passing between them before she stepped further into the studio. “we’ve got a new project for you,” she said, her tone careful, as if she was choosing her words with great precision. you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite your earlier protest. “a new project?” you repeated, leaning back against the table and crossing your arms. “you know how swamped i am. i’ve got deadlines looming, scripts to revise, not to mention the festival coming up. i’m not sure i can take on anything else right now.”

“i know, i know,” she said quickly, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “but this, this is something you can’t pass up. trust me.” your interest was definitely piqued now. she knew you well enough to understand that you didn’t take on just any project, especially when your plate was already full. if she was pushing this, it had to be something special. “alright,” you said slowly, eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue. “what’s the project?”

she hesitated for just a moment, and you could see the flicker of something—concern, maybe—in her eyes before she spoke again. “it’s a documentary,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “about a famous actor, and his battle with cancer.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. you blinked, trying to process what she had just said. it wasn’t the first time you’d been approached with a project like this—after all, your reputation as a filmmaker was built on your ability to tell stories that resonated deeply with people, stories that touched on the raw, human experiences of life. but something about this particular proposal struck a chord within you, a sense of déjà vu that you couldn’t quite shake.

“a documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer?” you repeated, your voice softer now, tinged with the gravity of the subject. “that’s certainly an interesting proposal.” there was a brief silence as your team watched you closely, gauging your reaction, waiting to see if you would take the bait. and how could you not? this was the kind of story that could change lives, that could bring hope to others in the same situation. it was the kind of story that needed to be told, and you knew you had the skills and the sensitivity to tell it in the way it deserved.

“so,” your team member continued, her voice a little more confident now, “what do you think? are you up for it?” you let out a slow breath, your mind already racing with the possibilities, the ideas that were starting to take shape. the weight of the project was immense, but it was also an opportunity—one that you knew you couldn’t walk away from. this was why you had become a filmmaker in the first place: to tell stories that mattered, stories that could make a difference.

you met her gaze, a resolve settling over you as you nodded. “yeah,” you said, your voice firm with decision. “i’m up for it. let’s do it.”

there was a collective sigh of relief from your team, and the tension in the room eased as smiles spread across their faces. “great,” she said, her smile wide and genuine. “i’ll set up the meeting as soon as possible. you won’t regret this.”

you nodded again, though your thoughts were already elsewhere, your mind drifting to the story you were about to embark on, the life you were about to explore and capture on film. there was something about this project that felt different, something that tugged at the edges of your consciousness, a sense that this was more than just another film—it was a story that was somehow personal, though you couldn’t quite place why.

the house was quiet, an eerie stillness filling the space as taeyong stood in the center of his living room. the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, their movements gentle and unassuming. the room was warm, lit by the soft glow of the fireplace, its flames crackling quietly, adding a touch of life to the otherwise somber atmosphere.

his gaze was distant, his thoughts miles away, lost in the labyrinth of memories and the weight of the present. he had always been a man who carried his burdens silently, his struggles hidden behind a charming smile and a confident demeanor. but tonight, there was a heaviness to him, a sense of finality that clung to the air, making the room feel smaller, suffocating.

mark stood by his side, his eyes filled with concern as he watched his boss, his friend, grapple with the silent battle he had been waging for months now. taeyong’s health had been declining slowly, the cancer spreading with a relentless determination, yet he had never once allowed it to break him. he had continued to work, to smile, to laugh as if everything was fine. but mark knew better. he could see the toll it was taking on him, the exhaustion that was starting to seep into his bones, the way his eyes seemed dimmer, less vibrant.

“are you alright?” mark’s voice was soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace that hung in the air. taeyong didn’t turn to look at him, his eyes still fixed on the flames that danced before him. “never been better,” he replied, his tone light, almost nonchalant. but there was an edge to his voice, a hint of something darker that he couldn’t quite mask.

mark’s brow furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips as he tried to make sense of his words. he had always admired taeyong’s ability to stay positive, to find the silver lining in even the darkest of situations, but this—this felt different. there was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as if he had accepted his fate, as if he was ready to let go.

“the cancer,” taeyong continued, his voice calm, almost detached, “despite its slow murder, is a good chance for my career to reach its peak.”

mark’s heart clenched at the words, a cold chill running down his spine. how could he say such a thing? how could he talk about his own death with such casual indifference? mark shook his head, trying to push the thought away, trying to ignore the fear that was beginning to coil in his chest.

“boss,” mark began, his voice trembling slightly, but he quickly caught himself, forcing a steadiness he didn’t feel. “don’t say that. you’re going to make it. you’ll beat this.” taeyong didn’t respond, his silence heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged fears. he stepped away from the fireplace, his feet moving almost instinctively towards the mantle where several framed photographs were arranged neatly, each one a snapshot of a moment in time, a piece of his past carefully preserved behind glass.

he paused in front of the mantle, his eyes scanning the photos, memories flooding his mind as he took in the images—his parents, his friends, moments of triumph and joy. but there was one photograph that drew his attention, one that seemed to pull him in with a force he couldn’t resist. it was a picture of you and him, taken years ago when the world seemed so much simpler, so full of promise.

you were both smiling in the photo, your eyes bright with laughter, your arm looped through his as if you were afraid to let go. it was a candid shot, one taken during a summer festival, the two of you surrounded by the vibrant colors of the fair, the warmth of the day captured in the curve of your lips and the softness of your gaze. taeyong’s fingers reached out, brushing lightly against the glass, tracing the outline of your face, the curve of your smile, as if by touching the image, he could somehow bring you back, relive that moment just once more. there was a sadness in his eyes now, a longing that he couldn’t quite put into words.

mark watched him in silence, his heart aching for his best friend, for the man who had once been so full of life and energy, who had always faced the world with an unbreakable spirit. he could see the pain that he was trying so hard to hide, the sorrow that he kept locked away, refusing to let it show, refusing to let it consume him. “you’re going to make it,” mark repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words quietly would make them true, would somehow protect taeyong from the cruel hand that fate had dealt him.

his hand stilled on the photograph, his gaze lingering on your face, on the memory of what you had once been to each other. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell you, but the words were caught in his throat, trapped by the knowledge that it was too late, that those moments were gone, that the life he had envisioned for himself, for the two of you, had slipped through his fingers like sand.

“smile for me,” he whispered to the photo, the words so quiet that they barely reached mark’s ears. it was a request, a plea for something that he could no longer have, for the joy that had been taken from him, for the love that he had lost.

the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of your apartment, casting a soft, golden light across the room. you sat at the edge of your bed, your fingers idly twisting the delicate silver chain that hung around your neck. the pendant, a simple charm that had once meant the world to you, was cool against your skin, a reminder of a time long past.

today was a day you had been preparing for, though you hadn’t known it. a part of you had been waiting for this moment, whether consciously or not. you had been told this was a career-defining opportunity, a project that could cement your place in the industry. but as you sat there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel the tight knot of anxiety in your stomach, the unease that had been building ever since you first heard the name of the actor you were about to meet.

“focus,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely more than a breath. you had come so far, had worked so hard to get here. this was your moment. you were a successful filmmaker, your documentaries praised for their depth, their emotional resonance. you had built a career on capturing the raw, unfiltered truth of human experience. and yet, the truth of what you were feeling now was something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

you stood and walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out a simple, yet elegant, outfit. something professional, but not too formal—a reminder that while this was work, it was also personal, far more personal than anything you had ever done before. as you dressed, you went over the plan in your mind, rehearsing the questions you wanted to ask, the tone you wanted to set. you had to be calm, composed, professional. but above all, you had to be respectful. this was someone’s life, someone’s struggle that you were about to document. you needed to handle it with the care and sensitivity it deserved.

you inhaled deeply, trying to steady the trembling in your hands. “it’s just another project,” you told yourself, though the words felt hollow, like a mantra you didn’t quite believe. you shook your head, pushing the thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand. this was about the work, about telling a story that needed to be told.

when you arrived at the studio, your manager greeted you with a warm smile. “he’ll be here soon,” she assured you, her tone light, as if this were just another day at the office. you nodded, your expression calm, though inside, you were anything but. you tried to imagine how the conversation would go, the questions you would ask, the answers he might give. you wanted to make sure that you approached him with the respect he deserved, whoever he was. this wasn’t about you, or the past. this was about him, about his story.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the door open, didn’t notice the figure that walked into the room until it was too late. the air seemed to shift, the room growing heavier as if time itself had slowed. when you finally looked up, your breath caught in your throat. there he was, standing just a few feet away, his presence as commanding as ever. your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse racing as you took him in, the years that had passed between you falling away in an instant.

he hadn’t changed. not really. he was older, yes, his features more defined, more mature, but the essence of him was still the same. the same sharp eyes, the same confident posture, the same warmth in his smile that had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but now, that smile was tinged with something else, something sadder, something that spoke of battles fought and lost, of a life that had been lived, but not without cost. and then he saw you.

his gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. the air between you was electric, charged with the weight of all that had been left unsaid, all the memories that had been buried but never forgotten. you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the way his breath hitched, the way his expression softened, just for a moment, before he schooled his features back into that same calm, controlled mask he always wore.

but it was too late. you had seen it. the way his eyes had widened, the way his shoulders had tensed, the way his lips had parted, just slightly, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. he hadn’t changed a bit, you thought, your heart aching with the realization. he was still the same boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago, still the same person who had once held your heart in his hands. but there was something else there now, something deeper, something that spoke of pain and loss and the kind of strength that could only come from enduring both.

for a moment, you didn’t know what to do, what to say. the room felt too small, the air too thick, and all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and longing and fear. taeyong, for his part, didn’t say anything either. he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that after all these years, after everything that had happened, you were standing in front of him again.

and as you stood there, frozen in place, you couldn’t help but think how much prettier you had gotten. the years had been kind to you, had softened the edges of your beauty, had added a depth to your eyes, a grace to your movements that hadn’t been there before. he could see the strength in you, the resilience that had carried you through the years, through the pain and the loss and the heartache. but he also saw the vulnerability, the way your hands trembled just slightly, the way your breath hitched when you saw him. and it broke his heart, because he knew that he had put that there, that he was the reason you had learned to guard your heart so carefully, to protect yourself from the kind of pain that had once torn you apart.

the silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until it was finally broken by the soft clearing of a throat. your manager, sensing the tension, quickly made an excuse, something about giving you both some privacy, and with a few hurried words, she ushered the rest of the staff out of the room, leaving you and taeyong alone.

you sat across from him, the space between you feeling like an ocean of memories and emotions that neither of you could fully navigate. the small table in the center of the room was the only thing that separated you, yet it felt like a chasm. both of you were still stunned, your hearts beating in sync with the silence that enveloped the room.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumbled out before you could catch them. “of all people,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, “i didn’t expect to see you.”

taeyong’s smile was small, almost wistful, as he looked at you. his eyes, though still bright with that familiar spark, held a depth of sorrow that hadn’t been there before. “it’s been a long time,” he replied, his voice softer than you remembered, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. the pieces began to click in your mind, the realization slowly dawning on you as you recalled the brief your team had given you—the documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer. the words had seemed almost abstract then, just another story to tell, but now, with taeyong sitting in front of you, they took on a weight that made your heart swell with a mixture of pain and empathy. he was the actor. he was the one fighting for his life.

his smile grew a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’ve gotten prettier,” he said, his voice carrying a note of admiration, but also of something unspoken, a sadness that lingered in the air between you. you couldn’t help the sad smile that tugged at your lips as you responded, “you look as good as ever.” but even as you said it, you noticed the subtle changes in him, the way his clothes seemed to hang just a little too loosely on his frame, the pallor of his skin, the slight tremor in his hands that he tried to hide.

he tilted his head slightly, studying you with those same piercing eyes that had once seen right through you, had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered. “how’ve you been?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he was afraid of the answer. you hesitated, your heart constricting in your chest as memories of the past few years flashed through your mind. “it’s been rough,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. the loss of your sister, the breakup that had shattered your heart, the long, lonely nights spent trying to piece yourself back together—it all came rushing back in a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you.

“and you?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your concern, though you already knew the answer. “how have you been?”

taeyong’s smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw the truth written on his face—the exhaustion, the pain, the fight he was barely holding onto. “i’ve seen better days,” he confessed, his voice tinged with a resignation that made your heart ache. it was only then that you truly saw him, really saw him—the fragility in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped slightly as if carrying the weight of the world, the way his skin seemed almost translucent in the harsh lighting of the room. he looked like a shadow of the person you once knew, a ghost of the man who had once stood so tall, so strong. the sight of him, so frail, so vulnerable, sent a pang of sorrow through you that you couldn’t suppress.

your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay. “i leave, and you get sick on me,” you murmured, your voice cracking with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “how’s that fair?”

taeyong’s smile was sad, a reflection of the pain he saw in your eyes. he reached out, his hand hovering over the table as if he wanted to comfort you, but then he hesitated, pulling back slightly. “don’t worry about me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle reassurance that only made the tears in your eyes spill over. you wiped at your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but the overwhelming reality of the situation was too much to bear. the person who had once been your everything was now facing a battle you couldn’t even begin to fathom, and you felt utterly helpless.

he paused, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was memorizing every detail of your face, every expression, every flicker of emotion. “you have a documentary to work on,” he reminded you gently, his voice steady, though you could hear the strain beneath it. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to push down the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i guess i do.”

but even as you said the words, you knew that this was more than just a project, more than just another film to add to your portfolio. this was taeyong’s story, his life, and the thought of capturing something so personal, so painful, filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake.

he smiled again, that same sad, knowing smile, as if he could read every thought that crossed your mind. “it’s okay,” he said, his voice soothing. “we’ll get through this. together.” the word “together” hung in the air between you, a reminder of all that had been lost, but also of all that still remained. despite everything, despite the years that had passed and the pain that had followed, there was still something between you, something that time and distance hadn’t been able to erase.

taeyong glanced at the clock on the wall, the faint ticking echoing in the quiet room. the moment stretched out, heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions. you could feel the time slipping away, each second pulling him further from you. he began to rise slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if he was mindful of every breath he took.

his eyes flickered to yours, and you caught the briefest glimpse of hesitation, a flicker of something deeper that he quickly masked with a soft smile. you knew he was about to leave, and the thought sent a ripple of panic through you—a fear that this might be the last time you'd have him this close, the last time you could reach out and touch the memories that still bound you together.

before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, desperate and unguarded. “would you like to discuss the details over coffee?” he paused, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your request. for a moment, you thought he might refuse, that the careful distance he was trying to maintain would hold, keeping the fragile walls between you intact. but then, his smile softened, melting into something genuine, something warm that reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“i’d love to,” he murmured, his voice tender, as if the mere act of agreeing to your offer was a kindness you couldn’t fully comprehend. his eyes, now shining with a mix of nostalgia and affection, locked onto yours, and in that moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink just a little.

together, you left the room, the tension easing with each step as the familiarity of your presence beside him settled into something more comfortable, more natural. the hallway outside was dimly lit, the muted colors adding a softness to the surroundings that matched the quiet emotions hanging between you. you walked in silence, neither of you needing to fill the space with idle chatter. it wasn’t long before you found a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away on a quiet street corner, its warm glow inviting you both in from the cool evening air. the bell above the door jingled softly as you entered, the sound somehow grounding you in the moment.

taeyong held the door open for you, his eyes never leaving yours as you stepped inside. the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you, mingling with the faint scent of pastries and the low hum of quiet conversation from the few patrons scattered throughout the shop. the space was intimate, with dark wood tables and soft lighting that cast a gentle, golden hue over everything. it was the kind of place that felt like a secret, a hidden gem where time seemed to slow down.

he gestured toward a corner table by the window, where the light from a single candle flickered, casting delicate shadows on the polished wood. you nodded, making your way over to the table, the soft cushion of the chair sinking slightly under your weight as you sat down. he followed suit, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment. as he took the seat across from you, the candlelight caught the edges of his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt as though the years between you had melted away, leaving only the two of you, here and now.

when the waitress came to take your order, you hesitated, unsure if he would remember. but before you could speak, taeyong smiled up at her, his expression calm and certain. “two caramel macchiatos,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “one with extra foam, the other with just a hint of cinnamon on top.”

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the familiarity of the order sending a rush of warmth through you. he still remembered. after all these years, after all the distance that had grown between you, he remembered your favorite coffee, right down to the smallest detail. the waitress nodded, scribbling down the order before disappearing behind the counter. for a moment, you just looked at him, your heart swelling with a bittersweet kind of joy. the fact that he remembered something so trivial, something you had always considered your little indulgence, felt like a small miracle in the vastness of everything that had changed.

he met your gaze, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight, and he smiled—a real, unguarded smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and softened the lines of his face. “some things you just don’t forget,” he murmured, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that wrapped around your heart like a comforting embrace. the words hung in the air between you, a gentle reminder of the connection you once shared. the silence that followed wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, but rather, it was filled with a kind of understanding, an acknowledgment of all the things that had been left unsaid over the years.

when the drinks arrived, his smile widened as he slid yours across the table, the extra foam creating a delicate swirl in the amber liquid. you wrapped your hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into your skin, grounding you in the present moment.

the first sip was familiar, comforting, and you couldn’t help the small sigh of contentment that escaped your lips. he watched you with an expression of quiet satisfaction, as if your enjoyment of something so simple brought him a sense of peace. for a while, the two of you simply sipped your coffee, the world outside the window blurring into the background as the evening darkened. you talked about small things—work, mutual acquaintances, the latest films—but the conversation flowed easily, naturally, as though no time had passed since you last sat together like this.

but underneath the casual conversation, there was a current of deeper emotion, an unspoken acknowledgment of the elephant in the room. you could feel it in the way his gaze occasionally lingered on you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, every subtle shift in your expression. eventually, the conversation quieted, and the silence that followed was different—more charged, more significant. his eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“i missed this,” he admitted softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if the words were too fragile to be spoken aloud. his thumb traced a gentle line across the back of your hand, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. you looked down at your intertwined fingers, the sight so familiar, so right, that it made your chest ache with a longing you hadn’t realized you were still holding onto. “i did too,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth behind the words.

the warmth of his hand was a balm against the coldness that had settled in your heart over the years, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the chasm between you could be bridged. that somehow, despite everything, you could find your way back to the place where you had once been so close. as you sat there, the candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls, you realized that this moment—this simple, quiet moment—was more precious than anything you could have imagined. it was a reminder that no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had changed, there was still something between you. something worth holding onto.

the coffee shop door swung shut behind you, the faint chime of the bell ringing in your ears as you and taeyong stepped out into the cool night air. the evening had settled in fully now, the sky a deep canvas of indigo, speckled with stars that flickered faintly against the darkness. you shivered slightly, though whether from the chill or from the weight of everything unspoken between you, you couldn’t tell.

he walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. the silence between you was thick with the lingering warmth of your time together, but also with the unshakable reality that this moment was coming to an end. the streets were quiet, the usual bustle of the city muted as if the world itself had paused to allow you these last few moments together.

when you reached the corner where you would part ways, taeyong stopped and turned to face you. the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp cast a halo of light around him, illuminating the sharp planes of his face, the softness in his eyes that he hadn’t quite hidden from you tonight. he seemed to hesitate, his gaze searching yours for something—perhaps the words he didn’t know how to say, or the strength to hold back what he truly felt.

“thank you,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere. his eyes never left yours, and you could see the depth of his gratitude, the silent plea that you understood how much tonight had meant to him. “for everything. for the coffee, for listening, for just being here.”

you nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. you wanted to say so much—to tell him how much you had missed this, how much you wished things could be different, how much you still cared—but the words felt too heavy, too vulnerable to voice. instead, you just stood there, your heart aching with the knowledge that you were once again saying goodbye to the boy who had once meant everything to you.

he smiled, a sad, bittersweet curve of his lips that made your chest tighten painfully. “i'll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his eyes holding yours for a long moment, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. “take care,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat, which seemed to echo loudly in the quiet night.

he took a step back, hesitated, then stepped forward again and wrapped his arms around you in a tight, warm embrace. you closed your eyes, sinking into the familiar comfort of his arms, letting yourself hold on for just a little bit longer. the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body against yours—it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar, and yet so distant, as if this moment was something you were meant to remember, not live.

when he finally pulled away, you felt the loss acutely, as if a part of you had been torn away with him. he offered you one last smile, one last lingering look, before turning and walking away, his figure slowly disappearing into the darkness of the night. you watched him go, your heart heavy with the realization that you didn’t know when—or if—you would ever see him again.

once he was out of sight, you finally turned and started the walk home. the streets were empty, save for the occasional car passing by, the world around you quiet and still. your footsteps echoed softly against the pavement, the only sound accompanying the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

by the time you reached your front door, your hands were trembling. you fumbled with the keys, the cold metal slipping between your fingers as you tried to fit the key into the lock. it took longer than it should have, but finally, the door clicked open, and you stepped inside. the warmth of your home greeted you, but it did nothing to chase away the cold that had settled deep within you. the silence here was different—heavier, more oppressive. it pressed down on you as you closed the door behind you, the finality of it ringing in your ears.

you took a few steps into the living room, your eyes scanning the familiar space without really seeing it. everything felt surreal, as if you were moving through a dream, one where you were painfully aware of how it would end. and then, as if the weight of it all had finally become too much, your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor. the tears came suddenly, without warning, spilling down your cheeks in hot, uncontrollable waves. you pressed your hands to your face, trying to stifle the sobs that tore from your throat, but it was no use. the dam had broken, and there was no stopping the flood.

you cried for everything—for the boy who had once been your everything, for the man he had become, for the distance that had grown between you over the years, for the love that still lingered, unspoken and unresolved. you cried for the memories that haunted you, for the pain of seeing him again, for the fear that this might truly be the end. your sobs echoed through the empty room, the sound raw and anguished, a release of all the emotions you had been holding back for so long. the reality of his situation, the knowledge that he was facing something you couldn’t fix, something you couldn’t protect him from—it all came crashing down on you, overwhelming you with a grief so deep, you could hardly breathe.

you stayed like that for what felt like hours, curled up on the floor, your body wracked with sobs until there were no more tears left to cry. the exhaustion that followed was bone-deep, leaving you drained and empty, a hollow shell of yourself. eventually, the tears subsided, leaving only a dull ache in their wake. you were too tired to move, too tired to do anything but lay there, the coolness of the floor pressing against your cheek, grounding you in the present. your breathing slowed, your sobs fading into quiet, shaky breaths as you finally began to slip into the darkness of sleep.

the following morning, you woke with the remnants of your tears still damp on your cheeks, the pain of the previous night still a heavy presence in your heart. you moved through the motions of your morning routine with mechanical precision, the hollow weight of grief settling deep within you. despite your efforts to compose yourself, your eyes were still red and swollen, the telltale signs of a night spent in anguish.

when you arrived at the studio where you were scheduled to meet taeyong, you tried to ignore the way your reflection in the glass doors revealed the exhaustion etched into your features. the bustling energy of the set did little to mask your own emotional turmoil as you prepared for another day of filming. he was already there, looking remarkably composed in contrast to the chaotic state you felt inside. he greeted you with that familiar smile, but it faltered just slightly as he took in the sight of you. his eyes softened with concern, a depth of empathy in his gaze that was all too familiar.

“hey,” he said, his voice gentle as he approached you. “you look tired. surely, you haven’t been crying because of me?” you tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt strained and weak. “oh, no,” you said quickly, your voice betraying the lie. “i’ve just been restless. Iit’s nothing, really.”

his expression remained skeptical, but he chose not to press further. “if you say so,” he said, though his eyes lingered on you with a hint of worry. “let’s get started. we’ve got a lot to cover today.”

the morning passed in a blur of activity as you worked together, setting up the cameras, adjusting the lights, and preparing for the next segment of the documentary. he was, as always, a professional, his presence commanding and charismatic even in the face of the vulnerability he was about to share. but today, the process felt more poignant, more bittersweet. each moment of film captured was a moment of his life that was both being documented and slowly slipping away.

as you filmed, taeyong spoke candidly about his journey with cancer. his voice was steady, but beneath the surface, there was a current of raw emotion. “it started with just a bit of fatigue,” he recounted, his eyes distant as he looked at the camera. “then came the pain, and before i knew it, it was everywhere. the treatments, they’re brutal. sometimes, i wonder if the cure is worse than the disease.”

his words were measured, but each one carried the weight of his suffering. the room was filled with the soft hum of the camera, and every so often, taeyong would glance over at you, as if checking to see if you were still there, still listening. his stories were filled with moments of strength and despair, the two coexisting in a delicate balance that left you feeling both heartbroken and inspired.

at one point, he began to talk about the impact of his illness on his personal life. he spoke about the relationships that had faltered, the friends who had drifted away. “people say they want to be there for you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “but it’s hard to be around someone who’s constantly fighting a losing battle. i understand why they pull away. i wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

your eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and you struggled to maintain your composure. the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he exposed—it was all too much. the camera kept rolling, capturing the raw honesty of his words, but you could no longer hold back the tears. they spilled over, running down your cheeks as you tried to stifle the sobs that escaped from your throat.

taeyong noticed immediately. he paused, his gaze shifting from the camera to you, his expression a mix of concern and sadness. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry. “do you need a break?” you shook your head, though your sobs were still audible. “i’m sorry,” you managed to say through your tears. “i didn’t mean to—”

he moved quickly to your side, his hand reaching out to touch your arm with a comforting warmth. “hey, it’s alright,” he said softly. “you don’t have to apologize. this is hard for me too. i understand.”

he took a deep breath, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “i know it’s difficult,” he contonued, his voice cracking slightly. “i don’t have much time left, but i want to make the most of it. i want to spend the time i have left with you.” you looked up at him, your heart aching as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. “taeyong, i—”

he cut you off gently, placing a hand over yours. “let’s make a pact,” he said, his voice resolute despite the tears that glistened in his eyes. “let’s spend as much time together as we can. we’ll make these moments count.” you nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep into your heart. “i’d like that,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “good,” he said, his own tears now flowing freely. “because i need you here with me. more than you know.” the two of you sat there for a while, holding each other in the quiet aftermath of your shared tears. the pain and sorrow were still present, but there was also a sense of connection, of understanding that transcended words. you both knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but in that moment, there was solace in the promise of being there for one another.

you and taeyong honored your pact with a quiet determination that bordered on sacred. the days became a collection of moments, each one more precious than the last, as you spent your time together creating memories that you both knew would one day be the echoes of what once was. the camera was your constant companion, always present but never intrusive, capturing the essence of taeyong as you saw him—strong, vulnerable, endlessly human.

in those weeks, you and him were inseparable, the lines between filmmaker and subject blurring until they no longer mattered. the only difference was the camera, but even that became an extension of your bond, a way to immortalize the fleeting beauty of each day you spent together.

you filmed everything—his quiet moments of introspection, the laughter you shared, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he moved with a grace that belied the weight he carried. you wanted to capture it all, every nuance, every detail, so that when the time came, you would have these memories to hold onto. one afternoon, the two of you were sitting in a sun-drenched park, the warmth of the day wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. the camera rested on its tripod, focused on taeyong as he sat cross-legged on the grass, his head tilted back to catch the rays of the sun. his eyes were closed, a peaceful smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, he looked like he was simply soaking in the beauty of the world around him.

“do you ever wonder what people will remember about you?” he asked, his voice soft as he opened his eyes and turned to you. you lowered the camera, meeting his gaze. “all the time,” you admitted, your voice equally gentle. “but i’m more concerned with how i’ll remember you.”

he smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips that tugged at your heart. “you’ll remember the good things, i hope,” he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of sadness. “i’ll remember everything,” you replied, a lump forming in your throat. “every laugh, every tear, every moment we shared. i’ll remember the way you make the world seem brighter just by being in it.”

his eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. “you make it sound like i’m some kind of miracle,” he said, his voice laced with emotion. “you are,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you are to me.” the words hung between you, a quiet confession that neither of you needed to elaborate on. the depth of your connection was something that words could never fully capture, but in that moment, you both understood what you meant to each other.

as the weeks passed, you continued to film, capturing every detail of his life. there were moments when the reality of his situation would hit you both, the weight of it all pressing down like a heavy fog. but even in those moments, you found solace in each other, in the knowledge that you were not alone.

one evening, you found yourselves back in the studio, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the overhead lights. taeyong was sitting in a chair, the camera focused on him as he spoke about his journey with cancer, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i’ve come to terms with it,” he said, his eyes distant as he looked into the camera. “i know that my time is limited, but i’m not afraid anymore. i’ve lived a good life, and i’ve been lucky to have people who love me. that’s more than i could have ever asked for.”

you stood behind the camera, your heart aching as you listened to his words. there was a calmness in his voice, a sense of acceptance that both comforted and devastated you. but then, something shifted inside you, a desire to show the world not just the man sitting in front of the camera, but the way you saw him—the way you loved him.

without a word, you turned the camera around, adjusting the focus until it was pointed at yourself. taeyong watched you with a curious expression, his head tilted slightly as he tried to understand what you were doing. “i want everyone to see you the way i do,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked into the lens. “i want them to see the man who’s strong and brave, but also the man who’s gentle and kind. i want them to see you through my eyes.”

his expression softened, his eyes filling with unshed tears as he understood the depth of your words. “you’re going to make me cry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. you gave him a small, tearful smile, your heart pounding in your chest. “maybe it’s time we both let it out,” you said softly.

and then, before you could say anything more, taeyong reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. his touch was tender, his fingers warm against your skin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with a quiet desperation, as if he was trying to pour all the love he had left into that one moment. you kissed him back, your tears mingling with his as the camera captured it all—the love, the sadness, the overwhelming beauty of two souls connected in a way that transcended words.

when you finally pulled away, you were both crying, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. the camera continued to roll, documenting the raw, unfiltered emotions that spilled from your hearts. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “i don’t know how much time i have left, but I know i want to spend every second of it with you.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice breaking as you spoke the words that had been trapped inside you for so long. “and i’ll be here, right by your side, for as long as you need me.” and when the time came, when the camera was finally turned off and the lights dimmed, you knew that you had done everything you could to show the world the man you loved. the man who had changed your life, who had filled your days with a love so profound that it would linger in your heart long after the film had ended.

the days grew shorter, the light of the sun slipping through the curtains with less intensity as taeyong’s condition deteriorated. the once vibrant and hopeful man you knew was becoming increasingly elusive, his memory fading like the last echoes of a song. it was heartbreaking to witness the gradual erosion of his past, the slow unraveling of the threads that once held his identity together.

yet, even as his memory faltered, one truth remained steadfast—his love for you. it was as if, amidst the fog of confusion, the warmth of his feelings for you was a constant flame that refused to be extinguished. but with each passing day, even this seemed to be on the brink of slipping away.

one afternoon, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing a meal with a tenderness that mirrored the affection you felt for him. the aroma of the food filled the small apartment, a comforting presence amidst the anxiety that hung in the air. you meticulously arranged the plate, hoping that a familiar taste might bring him some solace.

when you entered the room with the plate of food, taeyong was sitting in his armchair, staring vacantly at the wall. his eyes were distant, his once bright gaze now clouded with confusion. you placed the plate on the small table beside him and gently took his hand in yours. “taeyong,” you said softly, trying to catch his attention. “i made your favorite. i thought it might help you feel a bit better.”

he looked at you, but there was a moment of hesitation, a clouded recognition that struggled to pierce through the haze. his brow furrowed, and for a second, it seemed like he was trying to grasp at a fleeting memory. “i—i’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “i’m trying to remember.”

you could feel the sting of tears behind your eyes as you knelt beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of his struggle. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “you don’t have to remember everything. just know that i’m here.” he reached for the plate, his movements slow and uncertain. as he took a bite, you watched him with a mixture of hope and sadness. he chewed slowly, his face reflecting the effort it took to recognize the taste.

with a mouthful of food, he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. “i remember,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i remember, the taste of your cooking.”

the words hit you like a wave, a bittersweet reminder of the depth of your connection. you nodded, unable to speak as the tears streamed down your face. taeyong continued to eat, each bite accompanied by a flicker of recognition that was as precious as it was painful.

he swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, and with a tremor in his voice, he said, “i know your name. i do. it’s...” he faltered, the name on the tip of his tongue slipping away once more. you squeezed his hand gently, your own tears falling freely. “it’s (y/n),” you whispered.

he nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “yes,” he said through his tears. “(y/n).”

you held his hand tightly, the warmth of his grasp a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions. as he continued to eat, his tears mixed with the food, his sobs muffled by the bite of the meal. the sight of him, struggling to hold onto the fragments of his memory while still reaching out to you, was both heart-wrenching and beautiful. the camera, positioned in the corner of the room, captured the scene with an eerie silence, documenting the raw, unfiltered moments of love and loss. each frame told a story of devotion amidst the sorrow, a testament to the bond that remained even as everything else seemed to fade.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he felt. and as you nodded, your own tears still falling, you knew that no matter what else he might forget, this one truth would remain. “i love you too, taeyong,” you whispered back, your voice filled with all the emotion you couldn’t put into words.

the days seemed to blend into one another, each moment weighed down by taeyong’s increasingly distant demeanor. it had become more pronounced recently—he would lose focus mid-sentence, his gaze would drift off into the distance, and he often seemed to be fighting to recall things that once came so easily to him. the sight of his struggle was an unbearable reminder of how fleeting memories could be, and it left you with a deep-seated ache in your chest.

you had been planning this trip for some time, hoping that a change of scenery might help revive his spirits, and today seemed like the right moment to take action. as you looked at him, sitting in the living room with a distant expression, you took a deep breath and gently broached the subject.

“i think we should go on a trip,” you said softly, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil in your heart. “a change of pace might do us both some good.” he looked up from where he had been absentmindedly tracing patterns on the arm of his chair. “a trip?” he echoed, his voice tinged with curiosity and something else—perhaps a flicker of hope.

you nodded, a small, encouraging smile on your lips. “back to seoul. i thought it might be nice to revisit some places we used to go. what do you think?” a faint smile touched his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “seoul sounds good,” he said quietly. “i’d like that.”

the journey back was a quiet one, filled with moments of introspective silence as the cityscape rolled by outside the car window. taeyong’s hand rested on his lap, and you kept your gaze fixed on the road ahead, doing your best to manage the mix of anticipation and anxiety that churned within you.

as you arrived in seoul, the city seemed to envelop you both in its familiar embrace. the streets were alive with the hum of activity, the vibrant buzz of the city a stark contrast to the somber mood that had settled over taeyong. you drove slowly, making your way to a park you both had cherished during your youth.

the park came into view, and you could see the large, welcoming expanse of green surrounded by towering trees. you parked the car and took his hand, gently guiding him out and toward the entrance. his steps were hesitant at first, but as you led him along the familiar path, you could see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

the park was just as you remembered—an oasis of tranquility amidst the bustling city, its paths winding through lush greenery and blooming flowers. you guided him to a bench beneath a grand old oak tree, its branches stretching out like welcoming arms. the sun filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled shadow on the ground.

you sat down beside him, your heart pounding as you pulled out your camera, ready to capture the moment. “do you remember this place?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. he looked around, his eyes roaming the landscape with a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. “i think so,” he said slowly, his voice tentative. “it feels familiar.”

you smiled encouragingly, urging him to take it all in. “we used to come here all the time. we’d sit here and talk for hours. this was one of our favorite spots.” the transformation was gradual but undeniable. as taeyong took in his surroundings, a wave of recognition seemed to wash over him. his eyes grew wider, and you saw the struggle as he fought to connect the fragments of memory that were beginning to surface.

a tremor of emotion passed through him as he began to recall the days spent in this very park—the laughter, the conversations, the dreams you had shared. “i remember,” he said softly, a mixture of awe and sorrow in his voice. “i remember coming here with you. we’d sit here and talk, about everything.”

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him. “yes,” you whispered. “we did. and i wanted to bring you back here, because this place means so much to both of us.” he reached out, taking your hand in his, and for a moment, it was as if time had folded itself back upon itself. his touch was tender, filled with a longing that echoed the depth of his emotions. he looked at you with an expression that was both familiar and poignant.

“i’ve missed this,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’ve missed us.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. “i’ve missed us too,” you replied, your voice trembling.

as you continued filming, capturing the raw and beautiful reality of the moment, his emotions seemed to overflow. he stood up slowly, his gaze locked with yours, and wrapped his arms around you. you were caught off guard by the intensity of his embrace, but you melted into it, holding him tightly. he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with a bittersweet intensity. the kiss was a silent testament to all the love you had shared, all the memories that you both cherished, and the reality of the present moment.

when he pulled back, his eyes were glistening with tears, and you could see the depth of his emotions reflected in his gaze. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with a heartfelt gratitude. “thank you for bringing me here.” you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. Instead, you continued filming, letting the camera capture the poignancy of the moment—the way his eyes shone with love and the way you clung to each other amidst the memories and emotions that surrounded you.

the days seemed to bring a renewed sense of hope, a fragile light that flickered more brightly with each passing moment. taeyong's health appeared to be stabilizing, and the improvement, though modest, filled both of you with a cautious optimism. the treatments had begun to take effect, and his spirits were visibly lifted. he even began to joke about the future, something that had seemed almost impossible just weeks before.

the film project, which had started as a painful exploration of his battle with cancer, had come to an end. with it wrapped up, you decided it was time for the two of you to watch it together, to relive the journey and see how far you had come. you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you prepared the playback.

you set up the projector in the cozy living room, dimming the lights and arranging the comfortable cushions on the floor. taeyong sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both settled in to review the film. the screen flickered to life, and the first images began to play.

as the film unfolded, you watched every moment with a mixture of tears and a wistful smile. each frame was a testament to the love and pain you had shared, the highs and lows of the journey that had brought you closer together. the scenes of his struggle, his strength, and the tender moments between you both played out before your eyes. the footage captured his vulnerability, his laughter, and the quiet moments of reflection.

his face was a canvas of emotions as he watched the film, his expression shifting from sadness to nostalgia, and then to a gentle smile. he leaned his head against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence as the film continued. you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, a small solace in the midst of the emotional whirlwind.

you turned to look at him, only to find his eyes closed, his face serene yet pale. the sight of him resting so peacefully, so vulnerably, sent a pang of anxiety through your heart. you reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, hoping to provide him with some comfort.

as the film reached its climax, taeyong opened his eyes slowly, meeting your gaze with a faint, bittersweet smile. the change in him was stark; his face looked more drawn, his breaths more labored. the realization of what was happening hit you with a force that left you breathless. his once-hopeful demeanor was now overshadowed by a profound weakness.

“smile for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with a tender request.

tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to maintain your composure. you managed a trembling smile, forcing through the waves of sorrow that threatened to overtake you. the smile you gave him was full of love, a desperate attempt to hold onto the beauty of the moment even as the reality of his condition loomed over you.

a tear slipped down taeyong’s cheek as he closed his eyes again, leaning his head on your shoulder with a quiet resignation. the sight of his tear, so vulnerable and raw, broke something within you. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, trying to offer whatever comfort you could.

through your own tears, you whispered, “you’ll wake up, taeyong. we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

you clung to the hope that somehow, despite everything, you would get another chance to share a moment, to hear his laugh again, to hold him close. but as you looked at his pale, still form, you knew deep down that this was the end. the light in his eyes was fading, his breaths coming slower and more shallow.

the film continued to play softly in the background, the images a stark contrast to the stillness between you. you felt the weight of the moment, the enormity of the farewell that was unfolding. his breathing grew even more labored, and his grip on you loosened. his eyes remained closed, a final tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he succumbed to the darkness that had been slowly encroaching upon him. you held him close, your own tears flowing freely, your heart breaking with the finality of the situation.

the room seemed to grow colder, the warmth of his presence slipping away. you could feel the heavy silence settling around you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the film projector. you held him tightly, your tears mingling with his as you whispered to him, your voice breaking with sorrow. you had fulfilled his final wish. you had given him a smile to remember.

✧.*

a/n: i'm ngl i cried writing this bye

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