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The courtroom was a storm waiting to break. It was the case every news channel was buzzing about. Every mouth was talking about. Every eye was on them. The press lined the back rows, notebooks open, cameras flashing whenever the judge so much as shifted. The defense counsel’s table buzzed with confidence, too much confidence.
And at the center of it all stood Hyo Min. Her voice rang steady, unwavering as she dismantled a witness’s testimony. Not a crack in her poise. Not a flicker of hesitation. She was the kind of lawyer who set the entire room on edge without raising her tone. Seok Hoon should have been proud. He should have been watching her work with the detached admiration he usually wore like a mask. But today, something was off.
The anonymous threat they had received to back off from the case, which Hyo Min casually brushed off had him tense ever since. He could not be nonchalant when it came to her. Couldn't not care even if she was unworried. His eyes weren’t on the witness. They weren’t on the defense counsel either. They were on the gallery. On the restless man shifting in his seat. On the second row where someone’s eyes were burning holes into Hyo Min. On the guards who looked two steps too slow. Every instinct screamed at him that danger was circling.
When it happened, it was fast. Too fast.
The crack of glass echoed first. Someone’s water bottle shattering to the ground. It should have been nothing. But in that instant of chaos, a man surged forward. The barrier buckled, the security flinched, and before anyone could react he had shoved past. Straight at her.
“HYO MIN!” Seok Hoon’s voice thundered across the chamber, raw, shattering his usual reserve.
But he wasn’t fast enough. The man’s hand shoved her with brutal force. She stumbled back into the corner of the plaintiff’s table. The sound of impact; bone against wood made the blood drain from Seok Hoon’s face.
She crumpled, her head striking the edge before she fell to the floor. Time fractured. The judge’s gavel pounded. The press shouted. Guards swarmed. None of it mattered. All Seok Hoon could see was blood. Red . A thin red line, stark against her pale skin, trailing from her temple down to her cheek. He was at her side before thought could catch up. He didn’t care that the cameras were still flashing, that the room was spiraling into chaos. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as they cradled her face.
“Attorney Kang...Hyo Min. Look at me. Open your eyes.” His voice cracked, low and urgent. She groaned faintly, her lashes fluttering, but her body sagged against him. Something inside him tore open. He pressed his handkerchief against the wound, his hand clumsy for once, his usual precision gone. “Stay with me,” he begged under his breath. “Don’t you dare...” His voice broke, fury and fear choking him.
When security dragged the attacker away, Seok Hoon’s head snapped up. His eyes burned with such fury that the guards themselves recoiled. He looked ready to kill. “Get him out of my sight,” he growled, the words guttural, barely human.
But the next second, his attention was back on her. Always her . “We need an ambulance!” he roared, his composure shattering for the world to see. “NOW!”
The ride to the hospital was a blur of sirens and flashing lights. Seok Hoon sat hunched beside the stretcher, his hand gripping hers so tightly the paramedics had to pry him back just to check her vitals. His jaw was clenched, his chest rising and falling too fast. Every time her eyelids flickered, his heart leapt.
“Is she stable?” he barked, his voice sharper than a blade.
“She’s conscious but disoriented,” the paramedic answered carefully. “The cut is deep, but it doesn’t look life-threatening. We need to scan for concussion.”
Not life-threatening. The words should have comforted him. They didn’t. Not when he could still see her falling, see the blood dripping down her face, see the way her body went limp in his arms. He kept replaying it over and over, punishing himself with every second. I should have stopped it. I should have been faster. I should have protected her.
Her hand twitched weakly in his grip. “Attorney Yoon...”
His throat closed. He leaned closer, his voice rough. “I’m here. Don’t talk. Save your strength.”
Even half-conscious, even bleeding, she tried to soothe him. “it's okay... I am fine.’’ That broke him. He turned his face away for a second, his eyes burning, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to drag him under. How could she still be trying to comfort him? The hospital was merciless in its sterility. White walls, beeping monitors, the faint stench of antiseptic. Hours passed. Stitches, scans, observation. The doctors repeated the same line: She’ll recover. It’s nothing permanent. But nothing erased the image of her trembling, bleeding and wilting seared into him.
When they finally left her to rest, Seok Hoon stood by the window, his back to the bed. His reflection was a stranger: disheveled tie, blood on his cuffs, eyes wild. He had never lost control like this in front of anyone. And yet the moment he heard her stir; he was at her bedside instantly.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, sharper than he meant.
She blinked up at him, groggy but stubborn. “You… look worse than me.”
The fragile attempt at humor snapped his restraint.
“ Worse ?” His laugh was bitter, jagged. He leaned over her, his voice breaking. “You were lying in my arms, bleeding, and you think I look worse?”
Her eyes widened. She had never heard his voice like this. Stripped bare, vibrating with raw fear and intensity.
“You could’ve died,” he whispered, his lips trembling. “Do you understand that? One inch deeper. one wrong angle and I’d have...” He cut himself off, his throat closing around the words.
“Attorney Yoon…” she murmured, her voice soft, trying to reach him.
But he couldn’t stop. The dam had broken.
“You throw yourself into every fight without hesitation, and I let you. I let you because I thought... I thought I could control the risks.” His voice cracked, harsher now. “But today I watched you fall. I watched you bleed. And for the first time in years, I felt...” He broke off, chest heaving. “I felt like I was going to lose everything.”
Tears burned her eyes. She had seen him ruthless, cold, even cruel. She had never seen him unravel. Slowly, she reached for his hand. He froze, every muscle tense, but didn’t pull away when her fingers curled weakly around his.
“I’m still here,” she whispered.
The simplicity of it shattered him. He dropped his forehead against hers, his hand clutching hers so tightly it hurt. His voice was ragged, almost pleading. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Don’t ever scare me like that. I can’t...” His breath caught. “I can’t lose you, Hyo Min. Not you.”
Her heart pounded, tears spilling at the naked confession.
“I won’t. I promise .”
His eyes met hers, dark and tormented, and before doubt could creep in, he kissed her.
It was desperate, consuming, nothing like the careful distance they’d always maintained. His lips were rough against hers, trembling with fear and relief and everything he’d buried for too long. He kissed her like a vow, like a plea, like he could breathe only if she did. Fearing that he might hurt her injury he unwillingly broke apart. His lips brushed her hair, his voice a broken whisper. “ Don’t you ever leave me .”
Despite the ache in her body, despite the tears streaking her face, she managed the faintest smile. “Only if you promise the same.”
He let out a shaky, almost disbelieving laugh, pulling her against him carefully, as if she were made of glass. His kiss against her forehead lingered, softer this time, reverent.
For the first time, Yoon Seok Hoon. The man who never let the world see him falter clung to her desperately and wholly . And for once, Hyo Min didn’t try to fight.
- THE END -