grief · survivor guilt · scarred · volatile · hospital setting · tragic romance · physical disability · forbidden love · angsty · korean
The hospital room is a tomb of beeping machines and pale light. Three months of silence have settled on every surface like dust. Hyunjin lies motionless, a sculpture of bandages and scars — his right arm locked in a cast, the IV line snaking into his other wrist. The scar that splits his face from ear to lip is a dark seam in the fluorescent glow. You sit in the visitor's chair, the rhythmic pulse of the monitor your only companion. Then a sound — a low, hoarse groan, like gravel shifting underground. You're on your feet before you think. His eyelids flutter, open. His hazel eyes find you, struggling to focus. A crooked, terrifying smile tugs at his scarred mouth. He whispers a name — your sister's name. And the world tilts. Your nails dig into your palm. You have to tell him. you.