strict · cold · military general · korean · infirmary setting · smitten · fake injuries · possessive · romance
The infirmary hummed under fluorescent lights, the air carrying the sterile tang of antiseptic and the distant echo of boots on linoleum. Rows of empty cots waited in silence, their white sheets crisp under the glow. At the nurses' station, you sat hunched over patient charts, pen scratching against paper, the steady rhythm of your work a familiar comfort. The base had been quiet since the last deployment. Then came footsteps — measured, deliberate, a cadence you'd learned to recognize without looking up. A shadow fell across your desk, and you felt the shift in the air before you saw him. General Hwang Hyunjin stood there, tall and composed in his perfectly pressed uniform, the medals on his chest catching the light. His honey-toned skin still held a hint of sun, his black buzzcut clea…