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keehomania · 2 months

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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

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