Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Cardiac Rehabilitation Center didn’t look like a hospital from the outside. It was warm, softly lit, with pastel walls and a garden that peeked through every glass window. Watching from the entrance, Wonyoung took a slow breath. It was her first day as a transfer nurse, new place, new rules, new faces.

“Hey! You must be the new nurse.”

A bright, energetic voice pulled her attention. A woman around her age, wearing a lanyard decorated with tiny heart stickers, jogged toward her.

“I’m Jiwon,” she introduced cheerfully. “Your partner-in-crime from now on.”

Wonyoung offered a polite smile. “Wonyoung. Nice to meet you.”

“Come on,” Jiwon said, looping her arm through Wonyoung’s as if they’d known each other for years. “Let me show you around before the shift starts.”

They walked through long hallways painted with murals of skies and forests. Jiwon explained each wing; adult ward, therapy rooms, recovery suites. Eventually, they reached the children’s area, quieter than expected but full of life in its own way.

“This is where the long-term pediatric patients hang out,” Jiwon said softly. “Most of them are waiting for donors too.”

Wonyoung nodded, eyes scanning the room. Small tables with crayons, stacks of well-loved books, a few kids giggling over a puzzle.

And in the middle of them…

“Unnie, read more!”

A girl tugged the sleeve of a tall woman seated on the floor, book open on her lap. The woman laughed, rich and warm. 

“Alright, alright. But this chapter’s long, okay? If you fall asleep, I’m drawing a mustache on you.”

The kids erupted into playful protests. Wonyoung found herself smiling before she even realized it.

The woman wasn’t in staff clothes, she wore a patient’s light robe. Her features were striking, almost unfairly so. Handsome more than pretty, confident even while sitting cross-legged in children’s slippers. Her short dark hair framed a bright, sincere grin.

“That’s Yujin,” Jiwon said knowingly, catching the way Wonyoung stared.

“Patient?” Wonyoung asked.

“Mm-hm. Heart failure. Been here five years now. She came in when she was twenty-five.”

Wonyoung blinked. “Five years? That long?”

“Yeah.” Jiwon sighed, leaning on the wall as she watched Yujin animatedly act out a scene for the kids. “She’s… one of a kind. Always smiling, always helping people, always pretending she’s fine. And she is fine, most days. Just… still waiting.”

Wonyoung noticed the softness in her tone. “You sound worried.”

“Well, she’s had chances,” Jiwon admitted. “Three, actually. Hearts that matched her almost perfectly.”

“So what happened?”

“She gave them away.” Jiwon gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. “The patients after her were in worse condition, so she insisted they take the hearts instead. Says she can wait, that others need it more.”

“That’s…” Wonyoung didn’t know if she should call it noble or reckless. Maybe both.

“I know.” Jiwon’s voice dropped. “She’s amazing. Really. But… it scares me. And she never gets visitors anymore. Just that first month she arrived, then nothing. Yet she still acts like everyone else is the one who needs comforting.”

Wonyoung looked at Yujin again, laughing, reading, letting the kids braid little ribbons into her hair.

Over the next few days, Wonyoung learned the rhythm of the center. The shifts, the patients, the quiet hours between checkups. She saw Yujin everywhere. Helping kids with homework, walking slower patients to therapy, charming staff with that signature grin.

But they hadn’t properly spoken yet.

Until one afternoon.

Wonyoung was checking a medication chart when someone leaned on the counter beside her and whispered dramatically, “Are you always this serious, Nurse Jang, or is this just for show?”

She turned. Yujin was there, eyes sparkling with mischief like she’d been waiting all day for this moment.

“I’m working,” Wonyoung said, trying not to smile.

“Ah.” Yujin nodded solemnly. “So you’re only this cute when you’re concentrating. Noted.”

Wonyoung almost dropped the chart. “I… excuse me?”

“No, no, don’t mind me.” Yujin raised both hands as if surrendering. “I just wanted to introduce myself. Long-time resident, full-time troublemaker. An Yujin.”

Before Wonyoung could answer, Yujin added with a wink, “If you need someone to brighten your shift, I’m available. Completely free, in fact. You know… heart problems and all.”

“That’s not funny,” Wonyoung said, but she couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped.

Yujin grinned triumphantly. “See? I made the new nurse laugh. Today’s a success.”

And just like that, she wandered off, leaving Wonyoung helplessly amused.

Days passed, and it became a pattern.

Whenever Wonyoung walked into a room, Yujin somehow already knew and was ready with a comment:

“Did you get prettier, or is it just the lighting today?”

“Careful, Nurse Jang. If you keep walking around like that, my heart might give out before my new donor shows up.”

“If you smile at me like that again, I’m filing a complaint. Against myself. For falling too fast.”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes every single time.

But she also found herself searching for her during shifts, wondering where she was, if she was reading to the kids again, if she’d show up with another ridiculous line.

Jiwon would catch her glancing around and smirk.

“You’re in trouble,” she teased.

“Am not,” Wonyoung argued too quickly.

But she knew.

She was starting to look forward to Yujin’s flirting, the warm voice, the humor, the way she made the rehabilitation center feel less heavy. A little brighter. Just like sunlight in a storm.

By mid-afternoon, Wonyoung felt like her body had forgotten how to stand upright. 

Charts. Med passes. A sudden emergency consult. A crying child she helped soothe. A new family orientation. Two back-to-back wound checks.

She’d been on her feet since morning, barely stopping long enough to sip water, let alone eat lunch.

When she finally escaped into the garden area, she practically collapsed onto a bench under the shade of a tall willow tree. The breeze was warm, carrying the scent of lavender from the flower beds. She exhaled, long, heavy, exhausted and opened her untouched lunchbox.

She had just taken her first bite when the sliding door behind her opened.

Wonyoung didn’t look up at first.

She only reacted when she heard that familiar, delighted voice.

“Wow. As I live and breathe, Nurse Jang taking a break? I must be dreaming.”

She turned.

Yujin stood in the doorway, wearing her patient robe over a plain white T-shirt, her hair slightly messy like she’d rushed to get outside. But her smile… that smile was its own kind of sunlight.

“Long day?” Yujin asked, eyes soft with concern.

“You have no idea,” Wonyoung muttered tiredly.

Yujin’s grin widened as she walked closer. “Can I sit with you? Or am I interrupting a very romantic lunch-for-one?”

Wonyoung huffed a laugh. “You can join.”

Yujin looked pleased, almost beyond pleased, as she took a seat next to her, leaving just enough space to be polite… but close enough for Wonyoung to feel the warmth of her presence.

“So,” Yujin began, resting her elbows on her knees, “how does someone like you end up in a place like this?”

Wonyoung raised an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

“Beautiful, hardworking, intimidatingly competent,” Yujin listed casually. “You seem like you could’ve gone anywhere.”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes, but the exhaustion on her face softened a little.

“I wanted to work somewhere meaningful,” she said quietly. “A place where I could really make a difference. The rehab felt right.”

Yujin nodded thoughtfully. “It suits you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because people here need hope more than treatment,” Yujin said simply. “And you… you walk around like you carry extra for everyone.”

Wonyoung’s breath caught for a second because no one had ever worded it like that.

She looked away, suddenly shy.

After a moment, Yujin spoke again, but her tone was different, gentler, more grounded.

“You know… I wasn’t always like this.”

Wonyoung turned back to her.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Positive. Calm. Happy just being alive.”

Yujin gave a small laugh. “Before all this, I was… reckless. Really reckless. I used to run myself into the ground. Work nonstop, sleep whenever I remembered, drink too much coffee, skip too many meals. I thought I was invincible.”

Her fingers brushed lightly over the scar on her chest. “Turns out I was very… very not.”

Wonyoung listened quietly.

“When they told me my heart was failing,” Yujin continued, looking up at the sky, “I didn’t know what to do. I was twenty-five. I thought life was supposed to start then.”

She exhaled, as if releasing a memory she’d held too long. “But after a while, I realized being scared wasn’t going to fix anything. So I decided… if my time was shorter than I wanted, I’d at least make it bright.”

Wonyoung felt her throat tighten. “You talk about it like it doesn’t bother you.”

“Oh, it does,” Yujin admitted softly. “Every day. But I don’t want to waste whatever time I have left being angry. I just want to live happily, you know? However long I get.”

Wonyoung stared at her, really stared at her, seeing the strength beneath the charm, the vulnerability under the teasing.

“You’re… incredible,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

Yujin blinked, surprised. Then her lips curved slowly into a kind smile

The air had grown heavy, emotional, too intimate. Yujin noticed immediately.

And of course, she shifted gears.

“Anyway,” she said suddenly, nudging Wonyoung’s arm, “I’m done being dramatic. I have a reputation to maintain, you know?”

Wonyoung snorted. “What reputation?”

“The one where I make the prettiest nurse in the building smile at least once a day.”

Wonyoung covered her face with her hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I prefer charming,” Yujin corrected. “But I’ll accept ridiculous from you.”

She stood up, brushing off her robe, then hesitated before stepping away. Her voice softened. “Thanks for eating with me.”

Wonyoung blinked. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You tolerated me,” Yujin said with a grin. “That’s more than enough.”

She turned to walk back inside, but paused again, glancing at Wonyoung over her shoulder.

“And… thank you for working here.” Her expression warmed, sincere in a way flirting could never fake. “I swear seeing you around adds years to my life. Maybe even decades. Feels like my heart beats better when you’re somewhere nearby.”

Wonyoung’s chest tightened because she could tell Yujin meant every word.

Then Yujin gave her one last smile, soft, teasing, affectionate, and disappeared through the sliding door.

-- -- -- 

The next week settled into a comfortable rhythm for Wonyoung.

Morning rounds, charting, meds, therapy escorts, family updates, staff meetings, everything she’d grown used to in her short time at the rehab.

But now, something new had been added to her daily routine.

Every afternoon, when her tasks eased up a little, she found herself drifting, almost unconsciously toward the children’s area. And every afternoon, without fail, Yujin was already there.

Reading a book. Building a block tower. Letting kids cling to her arms as they dragged her toward a game.

She blended right in, like she was born to soften spaces and bring laughter where fear lingered. 

The kids were happier, louder, more playful when she was around. And since Wonyoung had joined them… they were thrilled.

“Nurse Wonyoung is here!” one of them would scream. “Now we have two grown-ups to boss around!”

Wonyoung should’ve been tired after her shifts, but somehow the moment she entered that room, her exhaustion loosened, slipping off her shoulders.

She always glanced at Yujin first.

And Yujin always noticed, flashing a grin that made Wonyoung’s stomach flutter in ways she refused to acknowledge.

Today, Wonyoung leaned against the wall for a moment, watching Yujin sit cross-legged on the floor with three kids piled into her lap as she read dramatically about a brave lion.

The way Yujin changed her voice to make the kids laugh…

The way she gently fixed the little boy’s slipping oxygen tube without interrupting the story…

The way she smiled, genuine, unguarded, bright…

Wonyoung felt her chest tighten.

She’s… really something.

Too attractive. Too kind. Too everything Wonyoung knew she shouldn’t be drawn to.

She shook her head quickly, nope. Not going there. Absolutely not.

But then… A small hand tugged her sleeve.

“Nurse Wonyoung,” a little girl said, eyes sparkling, “we decided something!”

“Decided what?” Wonyoung crouched down, smiling.

“We wanna play house!” the girl announced proudly. “And you’re the Mom!”

Before Wonyoung could react, another kid shouted:

“And Yujin-unnie is the Dad! ‘Cause she’s handsome!”

Wonyoung choked on her own breath.

Across the room, Yujin froze mid-sentence, eyebrows shooting up in shock.

“Oh boy,” she muttered under her breath.

The kids didn’t give them a chance to protest, they were already dragging them toward the toy kitchen area.

“Okay Mom, you cook!” one of the girls instructed, handing Wonyoung a plastic frying pan.

Wonyoung laughed helplessly. “Alright, alright. What am I cooking?”

“Kimchi fried rice!” the kids chorused.

“Perfect. I’ll do my best.”

Yujin was standing just outside the tiny kitchen area, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Why do I feel like I’m intruding on your culinary excellence?” she teased, slipping easily into her role.

One of the boys shoved a plastic briefcase into Yujin’s hands.

“You’re the Dad,” he said sternly. “You just got home from work!”

“Oh… right,” Yujin cleared her throat dramatically. “I’m home from a very long day at the office.”

She walked toward Wonyoung with exaggerated tired steps. “Honey, what’s for dinner?”

Wonyoung barely kept her composure. “Your favorite,” she answered dryly, scooping invisible rice onto a tiny plastic plate.

The children squealed like they were watching a K-drama unfold.

Yujin accepted the plate. “Ah… thank you, my hardworking wife.”

Wonyoung had to look away to hide the ridiculous smile tugging at her lips.

Then, the boldest kid of the group, the boy who always said things without thinking, suddenly shouted:

“My Dad always kisses my Mom on the cheek when she cooks for him!”

Yujin jerked like she’d been electrocuted. Wonyoung nearly dropped the frying pan.

The room fell silent for a heartbeat.

Yujin glanced at Wonyoung, quick, startled, unsure.

Wonyoung felt heat rush up her neck.

After a long, awkward second, Yujin cleared her throat.

“We’re just playing house, bud,” she said gently. “A high five works too, right?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

Yujin turned to Wonyoung and raised her hand, giving her the softest, most respectful smile Wonyoung had ever seen.

Wonyoung returned the high five lightly, something warm blooming in her chest.

She really is… considerate.

She didn’t take the easy joke. She didn’t push the moment. She protected Wonyoung’s comfort without hesitation.

It made something inside Wonyoung melt.

As playtime continued, Yujin fully committed to being the “Dad,” carrying kids, pretending to fix toy furniture, occasionally coming home from “work” to help taste-test Wonyoung’s imaginary cooking.

And all throughout, Wonyoung kept catching her doing it…looking at her.

Not a casual glance. Not a teasing smirk.

But a soft, private kind of look…one filled with admiration so pure it made Wonyoung’s heart speed up.

Every time their eyes met, Yujin panicked a little, cheeks puffing, dimples appearing, and she’d quickly look away like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

It happened more than once. More than twice. Enough times to make Wonyoung’s mind spiral.

Is she…?

Are these feelings…?

Could it be… mutual?

She wasn’t sure.

But when the kids begged them to play again tomorrow and Yujin’s face lit up at the idea of spending more time with her.

Wonyoung felt like she was in trouble. The kind she didn’t want to escape from.

-- -- -- 

The following week settled in with that familiar, comfortable buzz, the kind where the hallways hummed with soft chatter and rolling carts, and the nurse station always smelled faintly like coffee.

Wonyoung was reviewing medication logs when Jiwon leaned her chin on her shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“So…” Jiwon sang quietly, “you and Yujin, huh?”

Wonyoung nearly dropped her pen. “What?”

“You know,” Jiwon shrugged casually, “the way you two look at each other? Hang out every day? Flirt like it’s a full-time job? Very friend-to-more-than-friend coded.”

Wonyoung glared at her. “We’re just friends.”

“Mm-hm. Sure. And I’m secretly a billionaire.”

“Jiwon.” Wonyoung’s tone was firm enough that Jiwon paused, blinking.

There was something uneasy behind Wonyoung’s eyes.

“Okay,” Jiwon said gently. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

Wonyoung sighed, rubbing her temple. “It’s just… I can’t… I shouldn’t even think about anything beyond friendship.”

“Why not?”

Wonyoung hesitated, then the words came out all at once.

“She’s a patient. I work here. Even if she’s not technically under my direct care, it still feels wrong. And what if I’m misreading everything? What if she’s just flirting with me for fun, with no real meaning behind it? She’s charming, Jiwon. She flirts with the air if you let her.”

Jiwon nodded, listening.

“And,” Wonyoung continued quietly, “Yujin doesn’t need me complicating her life. Not with everything she’s going through. She needs stability, support… not some confused nurse with a crush.”

Jiwon leaned back in her chair, thoughtful.

“Well,” she started carefully, “you’re right about one thing, Yujin’s not your patient. You don’t treat her, monitor her charts, or report her vitals. So ethically? You’re not crossing any official lines.”

Wonyoung looked unconvinced.

“But,” Jiwon added softly, “if it feels wrong to you… then it’s okay to step back. There’s nothing wrong with staying friends if that’s what makes you feel grounded.”

Wonyoung exhaled slowly, nodding.

“That’s what I’ll do,” she said. “I like it here. I like the work. I don’t want to risk messing up my job over something I’m not even sure about myself. Maybe being friends with her is enough.”

Jiwon gave a small smile and squeezed her arm. “I get it. And whatever you choose, I’ve got your back.”

The next few days were… strange.

Like clockwork, Wonyoung went through her shifts, made rounds, helped kids draw and play, checked on patients, laughed with staff but something was off.

She didn’t hear Yujin’s loud laugh echoing down the hallway. Didn’t catch her leaning in a doorway with a smug grin. Didn’t see her in the children’s area, reading and acting out silly voices.

Day one, Wonyoung brushed it off.

Day two, she told herself Yujin was probably resting.

Day three… she couldn’t ignore the unease forming in her chest.

By the afternoon, she was scanning every hallway she walked through, pretending not to look for her, yet failing miserably.

Finally, she approached Jiwon at the nurse station.

“Hey,” she asked casually, “have you… seen Yujin around?”

Jiwon’s expression shifted, softening with something that looked like concern.

“Oh. You didn’t hear?”

Wonyoung’s stomach dropped.

“Hear what?”

“Yujin’s been in her room,” Jiwon explained gently. “She hasn’t been feeling well. Her heart’s been unstable these past few days, so the doctors want her to rest. No physical strain, no activity with the kids. They’re keeping an eye on her.”

Wonyoung felt a cold ripple of worry down her spine.

“Is she… okay?”

“This is normal for heart patients,” Jiwon said honestly. “But… it hasn’t happened to Yujin in a while. So everyone’s being extra cautious.”

Wonyoung nodded slowly, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter.

She tried to tell herself this was normal. Tried to breathe evenly. Tried to remember this was part of Yujin’s reality.

But all she could picture was Yujin’s playful smile, replaced with exhaustion or pain behind closed doors.

“I think I’ll… check on her,” Wonyoung finally said.

Jiwon smiled softly. “I thought you might.”

Wonyoung took a steadying breath, straightened her uniform, and headed toward Yujin’s room. Heart tight, steps quickening with each passing second.

She just needed to see her. To know she was okay. Even if friendship was all they’d ever be.

Wonyoung stood outside Yujin’s room, her fingers nervously tapping against the chart she used as an excuse to linger.

She had already asked the head nurse for permission and the head nurse barely let her finish her sentence before nodding.

“Of course, Nurse Jang. Yujin would love to see you.”

That alone made Wonyoung’s stomach twist.

Now she stood in front of the door, inhaled slowly, and pushed it open.

The room was dim, curtains slightly drawn to soften the afternoon sun. Machines hummed gently, the kind of background sound she’d grown used to, yet hearing them near Yujin felt different. Too real. Too fragile.

Yujin lay on her side, one hand resting near her chest, breathing calm but shallow. To anyone else, she might’ve looked like she was simply napping.

But Wonyoung could see the exhaustion clinging to her face, the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her brows, the slight paleness that didn’t belong there.

Worry pulsed through Wonyoung all over again.

She moved closer to the chair beside the bed and sat down quietly, afraid to wake her. For a long moment, she simply watched her.

Yujin looked softer like this. Gentler. Like someone who’d spent too many years pretending to be strong for everyone else.

Wonyoung’s fingers twitched. She wanted so badly to reach out. To touch her hand. To reassure herself that Yujin was here, warm, alive.

Slowly, she lifted her hand, hovering over Yujin’s.

But before she could pull back,  Yujin’s fingers twitched and moved, brushing against hers as if instinctively reaching.

Wonyoung startled.

Yujin stirred, her eyes opening slowly, lashes fluttering.

When she finally focused on who was sitting beside her, her lips curved into a tired smile, dimples and all.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice raspy but warm. “Thought I was dreaming for a second.”

Wonyoung’s heart broke a little.

“Hi,” she said softly. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No,” Yujin shook her head weakly, eyes never leaving Wonyoung. “This is the best reason I’ve ever had to wake up.

Wonyoung swallowed.

“I… didn’t see you for three days,” she admitted, voice quiet and trembling more than she wanted. “I was worried.”

Yujin’s eyes softened further, something warm and gentle filling them.

“You were?” she asked, almost like she couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” Wonyoung answered honestly.

Yujin exhaled slowly, calming her breathing like she’d been taught. Even that small action made Wonyoung’s chest tighten.

“I’m okay,” Yujin murmured. “Really. My heart’s just… being dramatic. Doctors say I need to rest.”

Wonyoung bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me?”

Yujin gave her a small, tired smile. “Didn’t want you to worry. Didn’t want anyone to worry.”

“That’s not how this works,” Wonyoung said softly. “People care about you.”

Yujin blinked, as if unsure whether to believe that.

“But I’m definitely happier now that you’re here,” she added quietly.

Wonyoung looked away for a moment, trying to calm the flutter in her own chest.

They talked lightly about small things, her shift, the kids, how Jiwon accidentally spilled noodles during lunch. Yujin laughed quietly, the sound weaker than usual but still unmistakably hers.

But after a moment, Yujin’s expression shifted. More serious. More vulnerable.

“Wonyoung…” Yujin said softly. “Can I tell you something? Something real?”

Wonyoung nodded slowly. “Of course.”

Yujin took a breath, her fingers lightly fidgeting with the blanket.

“You know… the moment I first saw you, when you walked into the children’s area on your first day… I almost forgot how to breathe.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened.

“I’m serious,” Yujin whispered. “I haven’t felt something like that in… I don’t know. Years. Maybe ever.”

Her voice trembled.

“I wanted to be your friend. Really. But every day, you were kind. And beautiful. And funny without trying. And you made this place… lighter. Warmer.”

She looked away, blinking rapidly.

“And instead of wanting to be your friend, I started wanting more. Something I shouldn’t want. Something I have no right to want.”

Wonyoung felt her heartbeat in her ears.

“You deserve someone stable,” Yujin continued, voice breaking a little. “Someone without an expiration date. Someone who won’t make you wonder if tomorrow will be the last time you see them.”

Wonyoung’s breath caught.

“I’m sorry for saying this,” Yujin whispered, eyes glistening. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I just… keeping it in wasn’t helping. My heart already struggles enough.”

She let out a weak laugh.

“If you don’t want to be around me anymore, I get it. I’ll understand.”

The room fell painfully quiet.

Yujin stared at her hands, shoulders tense, waiting, bracing, for rejection.

Wonyoung took a long breath, trying to steady herself.

She was overwhelmed. A mix of confusion, fear, hesitation and the undeniable pull she felt toward Yujin that she’d been desperately trying to ignore.

But she couldn’t say any of that out loud.

Not now. Not when Yujin was sick, fragile, and confessing something that clearly scared her.

So Wonyoung reached out, gently placing her hand over Yujin’s.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For telling me the truth.”

Yujin hesitated. “So you’re… not uncomfortable?”

“No,” Wonyoung shook her head. “Not at all. And I still want to be your friend, Yujin. Nothing about this changes that.”

Yujin’s shoulders slumped in relief and disappointment at the same time.

Wonyoung squeezed her hand.

“You need to focus on resting and getting better. That’s what matters. And Yujin… don’t ever think you deserve less because of your condition. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”

Yujin smiled softly,  heartbroken, grateful, accepting all at once.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured.

Wonyoung smiled back.

What Yujin didn’t know was that Wonyoung’s heart was silently unraveling because she wasn’t just worried, or attached, or fond.

She was falling. Hard. And she didn’t know how to stop.

-- -- -- 

Within a week, Yujin was cleared to return to her usual activities.

The children cheered when she walked back into the playroom. The staff greeted her with relieved smiles.

And Wonyoung… well, she tried very hard not to show how quickly her heart started racing the moment she saw Yujin standing in the hallway again.

But Yujin looked like her usual self, bright, warm, teasing as ever.

“Miss me?” Yujin asked on her first day back, leaning on the nurse station counter with that smug grin.

“No,” Wonyoung lied immediately.

Yujin laughed. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Stop,” Wonyoung muttered, failing to hide her smile.

“Make me.”

“Yujin.”

“Yes, Nurse Jang?”

“Go to the children’s area.”

“Only if you come with me.”

Wonyoung pinched the bridge of her nose.

This… was what she missed?

Apparently. Because as the days passed, Yujin fell right back into her rhythm, playing with the kids, reading stories, making silly voices, poking fun at Wonyoung when she walked by.

Nothing changed for her. But everything changed for Wonyoung.

Before the confession, Wonyoung had been fighting her feelings.

Denying them. Pushing them away.

But now? Now she knew Yujin felt the same.

Even if she pretended she didn’t. Even if she tried to act normal. Even if she apologized for wanting more.

Knowing Yujin wanted more made it impossible for Wonyoung to shut down her own heart.

She found herself looking forward to every moment they spent together.

Searching for her in hallways. Smiling stupidly whenever she heard Yujin laughing with a kid.

And Yujin didn’t make it any easier.

Because she kept doing things, small, thoughtful things, that made Wonyoung melt a little more each day.

It became a pattern.

Whenever Wonyoung had a busy shift, she’d return to the nurse station and find:

Her favorite coffee. A sandwich or snack she liked.

A sticky note with the neat handwriting she now instantly recognized.

“Eat. Or I’ll tell Jiwon to force-feed you. –YJ”

“Break time, pretty nurse. –YJ”

“You look tired. This is bribery to make you smile. –YJ”

“I noticed you forgot lunch again, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. –YJ”

Jiwon would wiggle her eyebrows every time she found one.

“Tell me again how you two are just friends?”

Wonyoung would turn red instantly.

“Shut up.”

-- -- -- 

One evening, Wonyoung worked a double shift. She was exhausted, head pounding, feet aching. She went outside to the garden and sank onto a bench, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples.

She didn’t even notice Yujin approaching until a familiar warmth settled beside her.

“Rough day?” Yujin asked softly.

Wonyoung nodded tiredly.

Without another word, Yujin gently tapped her shoulder.

“Here,” she murmured. “Use me.”

“What?”

“Lean on me. Come on. You’re going to get a neck cramp sitting like that.”

Wonyoung hesitated, but fatigue won. She rested her head on Yujin’s shoulder.

And Yujin stayed perfectly still, perfectly steady, perfectly warm.

“You work too hard,” Yujin whispered, almost scolding but with overflowing affection.

“That’s the job,” Wonyoung mumbled.

“No,” Yujin corrected quietly. “That’s you. You give too much and take too little.”

Wonyoung didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to breathe normally. Didn’t know how to resist someone who treated her heart more gently than she treated her own.

She felt Yujin shift slightly.

“Stay as long as you want,” Yujin added. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And Wonyoung believed her. Believed it so strongly that it scared her.

-- -- -- 

Weeks slipped by quietly but not subtly.

Their dynamic deepened. Softened. Blurred.

Yujin kept flirting. Kept caring. Kept looking at Wonyoung like she was the only reason Yujin remembered how to smile.

And Wonyoung… she struggled. Every. Single. Day.

She told herself:

“We’re just friends.”

“She’s a patient.”

“This is complicated.”

“This isn’t allowed.”

“She deserves stability.”

But then she’d catch Yujin staring at her with those warm eyes, dimples deepening at even the smallest smile Wonyoung offered her…

And all her carefully built walls cracked a little more.

One day, after seeing yet another note in the nurse station this one reading:

“Don’t skip dinner or I’ll tell the kids to scold you. –YJ ❤️ (don’t tell Jiwon I drew a heart)”

Wonyoung realized something:

She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t pretend her feelings meant nothing. She couldn’t keep running from her own heart.

She had been fighting a silent battle for months and she finally decided:

She was done running. She was going to do something about it.

Wonyoung had just clocked out, bag over her shoulder, exhaustion settling deep in her bones as she walked toward the exit. The halls were quieter at night, lights dimmed, patients asleep. She almost made it to the doors when she heard someone jogging lightly behind her.

“Wonyoung!”

She turned.

Yujin.

Wearing her standard soft, tired smile… but brighter the moment their eyes met.

“You’re leaving already?” Yujin asked, slightly breathless from catching up.

“It’s late,” Wonyoung replied, trying not to smile too obviously. “I’m heading home.”

“Oh.” Yujin nodded. “Then… goodnight.”

It should’ve ended there. A simple goodbye. Both of them walking in opposite directions.

But neither moved.

Wonyoung’s fingers tightened around her bag strap. Yujin shifted on her feet, hands slipping into her pockets to hide how anxious they suddenly were.

“…Yujin?” Wonyoung said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Can we… talk? Outside? In the garden?”

Yujin straightened instantly, nervous but hiding it behind a gentle nod.

“Of course. Anytime. Lead the way.”

The garden was empty, quiet and just a soft glow from the overhead lamps. Cool night air surrounded them as they sat on their usual bench, the same spot where Wonyoung once rested her head on Yujin’s shoulder.

But tonight, a different kind of heaviness hung in the air.

And Yujin felt it immediately.

Wonyoung’s hands were fidgeting. Her posture stiff. Her eyes darting anywhere but toward Yujin.

Yujin swallowed hard. She already knew.

So she forced herself to speak first, gently, carefully.

“Wonyoung… if you’re going to tell me to stop flirting because it makes you uncomfortable,” she said with a faint, shaky laugh, “I will.”

Wonyoung’s head snapped toward her. “Yujin…”

“And if you’re going to say that I should tone it down…” Yujin continued, her voice softer, “I’ll do that too. If it makes things easier for you.”

“Yujin, no, that’s not…”

“But please…” Yujin inhaled deeply. “…don’t say we shouldn’t be friends anymore…”

She looked down at her hands.

“I don’t think my heart can accept it.”

That made Wonyoung’s breath catch painfully.

“Yujin…” she whispered, voice trembling. “That’s not why I asked you here.”

Yujin blinked. “Then… why?”

Wonyoung looked away again. She lifted a hand to her forehead, exhaling shakily.

“Because,” she started, voice barely louder than a whisper, “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we shouldn’t happen.”

Yujin froze.

Wonyoung continued.

“That this, whatever is happening between us, can’t be anything more. I thought of reasons why it’s wrong. Why we shouldn’t start anything.”

Yujin forced her breathing to stay steady. “What… reasons?”

Wonyoung swallowed. Hard.

“You’re a patient here. Even if you’re not under my direct care, it feels wrong.”

Yujin nodded slowly.

“And you’re going through so much,” Wonyoung whispered. “You don’t need me complicating your life. You deserve peace, not… whatever this emotional storm is.”

She laughed bitterly at herself.

“I thought maybe I should avoid you. Keep my distance. Even transfer to a different place.”

Yujin stiffened painfully.

“But none of it felt right, none of it felt fair to you… or to me.”

The silence that followed was heavy. She finally looked at Yujin, eyes glossy, conflicted, vulnerable.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Because despite every reason I listed… I’m still falling for you. More and more every day.”

The confession hit Yujin like a shockwave.

“I can’t pretend anymore, Yujin,” Wonyoung whispered. “I can’t pretend my heart doesn’t skip when I see you. Or how you make my day even when you’re not trying. Or how you keep caring about me even when I tried pushing you away.”

She exhaled shakily.

“The truth is… I feel the same way you do. And I don’t know how to handle it or if we’re even allowed to act on it.”

For a long moment, Yujin said nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She stared at Wonyoung, lips parted slightly, trying to breathe but failing miserably. Her hand came up to her chest, tapping gently, a thing she did to calm her heart.

Wonyoung immediately panicked. “Yujin? Are you…? Did I..?”

But Yujin smiled. A bright, wide, dimpled smile full of disbelief and overflowing happiness.

“No, no..hey,” she soothed, lifting her hand to cup Wonyoung’s cheek. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Wonyoung hesitated. “Your heart…”

“Is beating too fast because I’m happy,” Yujin said softly. “Not because anything is wrong.”

Wonyoung blinked, stunned and Yujin’s thumb brushed her cheek.

“Do you know what it feels like,” Yujin whispered, “to be loved back? To be wanted by the person you thought was too bright for you?”

Wonyoung’s breath hitched.

“I didn’t,” Yujin continued, voice breaking slightly. “Not until now.”

Slowly, carefully, she took Wonyoung’s hand with her free hand.

“I know your worries,” she said gently. “And they’re real. And they matter.”

Wonyoung nodded weakly.

“But… can we try?” Yujin pleaded softly. “Can we at least try? Give us a chance to be happy? Even if it’s complicated. Even if it’s scary.”

Her voice trembled. “I promise I’ll take care of your heart for as long as my own can keep up.”

Wonyoung searched her eyes.

She saw nothing but sincerity. Nothing but quiet love. Nothing but Yujin.

“I…” Wonyoung whispered. “I should be the one taking care of your heart.”

Yujin’s breath stuttered.

“Wonyoung…”

Then, slowly, like gravity itself pulled them together, Yujin leaned in.

Wonyoung met her halfway.

Their lips touched softly, uncertain at first, warm and slow, a question answered by a trembling exhale. The kiss deepened, still gentle but full of emotion both of them had been holding back for far too long.

Yujin’s hand slid to the back of Wonyoung’s neck. Wonyoung’s fingers curled around Yujin’s shirt.

They parted only for a second, breathing the same air, before Yujin guided Wonyoung’s hand to her chest.

“Feel it,” she whispered.

Wonyoung did. Yujin’s heart was racing. Wild. Alive.

Because of her.

When it started beating a little too fast, Wonyoung pulled back in worry.

“Yujin…”

“I’m okay,” Yujin assured quickly, smiling through her uneven breaths. “I’m just… very, very happy.”

Wonyoung brushed hair away from Yujin’s face, still nervous.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Yujin whispered. “You… make my heart stronger. Not weaker.”

Wonyoung exhaled shakily and leaned her forehead against Yujin’s.

Their fingers remained intertwined. Their breaths steadied together.

And for the first time, neither of them ran from what they felt.

-- -- -- 

After that night in the garden, after the kiss that neither of them could forget even if they tried, reality settled in.

Wonyoung took a deep breath and cupped Yujin’s cheeks gently.

“We have to be careful,” she whispered. “I want us… but I also want to do this right.”

Yujin nodded, brushing their noses together fondly.

“I’m okay with whatever you want,” she murmured. “But just so you know… I want to love you openly too.”

Wonyoung smiled softly but sadly. “Then I need to talk to the Nurse Director. I don’t want us to hide, and if I need to transfer to a different rehab center…”

“No,” Yujin cut in quietly.

Wonyoung blinked. “Yujin…”

Yujin shook her head, resting her forehead against Wonyoung’s shoulder.

“I don’t like hiding either,” she said, voice trembling just slightly, “but the idea of not seeing you every day…”

She swallowed. “It hurts. A lot.”

Wonyoung’s heart squeezed painfully at that.

“Okay,” she whispered. “We keep it private. Just for now.”

Yujin smiled, relief flooding her expression.

“Just for now.”

They acted normal during the day.

Wonyoung kept her professional composure. Yujin kept her usual charm.

But behind the scenes? When no one else was around? Everything was different.

Sometimes Yujin would catch Wonyoung in an empty hallway, pin her gently against the wall, and kiss her, slow, soft, savoring.

Sometimes Wonyoung would tuck herself into Yujin’s arms for just a few seconds during a late break. 

Sometimes Yujin whispered:

“You’re my favorite part of every day.”

“Your smile keeps my heart working.”

“Come closer. I miss you.”

And Wonyoung would blush like her heart might burst.

They’d brush hands whenever possible, fingers lightly touching, lingering for just a second too long.

Yujin’s flirting became… deeper. Softer. Filled with meaning instead of mischief.

“Nurse Jang, can you help me? My heart feels strange.”

“Yujin…”

“It beats too fast when you’re near.”

“Stop,” Wonyoung scolded, covering her face.

“I’m completely serious.”

By day seven, Jiwon gave Wonyoung a long, knowing stare at the nurse station.

“So,” Jiwon said casually, sipping her iced tea. “You and Yujin. You two are… what? Super close friends? Or… super close friends?”

Wonyoung choked on her own water.

Jiwon raised an eyebrow. “Relax. I’m not a snitch.”

Wonyoung put a hand over her face. “Jiwon…”

“So it’s true?” Jiwon whispered, leaning closer.

Wonyoung bit her lip… then nodded slightly.

Jiwon squealed, quietly, but still squealed.

“Oh my god, finally! I’ve been rooting for you two since week one!”

“Please,” Wonyoung groaned, “just don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Jiwon said seriously. “You’re not doing anything unethical. She’s not your patient. And honestly? Yujin deserves someone who looks at her the way you do.”

Wonyoung froze. “The way I look at her?”

Jiwon smirked. “Like she hung the moon.”

Wonyoung turned bright red.

A few days later, a message popped up on Wonyoung’s phone:

NURSE DIRECTOR BAE IRENE REQUESTS TO SEE YOU IN HER OFFICE.

Wonyoung’s stomach dropped immediately. 

She knew. Of course she knew.

Jiwon squeezed her hand tightly. “You’ll be fine. Don’t panic.”

But Wonyoung panicked anyway. Her heart thundered as she walked down the hall, every step feeling like it echoed through her entire body.

Nurse Director Bae Irene sat behind her desk, elegant, composed, unreadable.

“Nurse Jang,” she greeted. “Please, sit.”

Wonyoung obeyed, hands clasped together to hide the trembling.

Nurse Irene folded her hands. “I’ll get straight to the point.”

Wonyoung braced.

“I’ve noticed your growing closeness with Patient An Yujin.”

Wonyoung inhaled sharply, but she didn’t lie. She lifted her chin, brave despite the fear.

“…Yes,” she whispered. “We’re close. More than close. And I’m sorry. I know how it looks. I know it’s frowned upon and I know…”

Irene lifted a hand gently.

“Wonyoung. Please stop apologizing.”

Wonyoung blinked in confusion.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Irene continued. “Yujin is not your assigned patient. You’ve never crossed any professional lines. And even if your feelings are involved… feelings are not policy violations.”

Wonyoung stared, shocked.

Irene gave her a soft smile, the kind Wonyoung had never seen from her before.

“I understand your concerns. Truly. But I didn’t call you here to reprimand you.”

Wonyoung swallowed hard. “Then… why am I here?”

The Nurse Director leaned back slightly.

“Because something happened,” she said, voice gentle. “Something extraordinary.”

Wonyoung went still.

“For the first time in years… Yujin spoke to her doctors about accepting the next available heart.”

Wonyoung’s lips parted. “S-she… what?”

“She told them she’s ready,” Irene said. “Ready for a transplant. Ready to live longer. Ready to hope again.”

Wonyoung’s breath stuttered.

“And while the doctors don’t know why,” Irene continued warmly, “I do.”

Wonyoung shook her head slowly. “I… but she never said anything to me…”

“That’s because she wanted to tell you when the time felt right,” Irene said gently. “But I wanted you to know sooner.”

A single tear slipped down Wonyoung’s cheek. Then another. And another.

Irene stood, walked around the desk, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Wonyoung, Yujin made that choice because of you. Because you gave her a reason to want to live longer.”

Wonyoung covered her mouth, trying to hold in the sob that trembled in her chest.

Irene squeezed her shoulder gently.

“But,” she added softly, “I do advise you to keep things lowkey for now. Not hidden. Just… quiet.”

Wonyoung nodded quickly, wiping her tears. “I promise. And… I’m not going anywhere. I love working here. I love my patients. I want to stay.”

A warm smile bloomed across Irene’s face.

“I’m glad to hear that. We would be losing an exceptional nurse otherwise.”

Relief washed over Wonyoung so strongly her knees almost went weak.

Irene stepped back. “You may go,” she said, voice kind. “And… Nurse Jang?”

“Yes?” Wonyoung sniffled.

“Thank you,” Irene said softly. “For giving hope to someone who had already given up.”

Leaving Irene’s office, Wonyoung felt lighter, relieved, and ready to find Yujin, to hug her, to tell her how proud she was, how grateful she was.

But Yujin was nowhere.

Not in the garden. Not in her room. Not in the hallways. Not even in the children’s area.

Wonyoung checked her phone.

No message.

She tried calling.

No answer.

She tried texting.

Nothing.

Wonyoung’s chest tightened. She found Jiwon leaning over charts at the nurse station and rushed toward her.

“Jiwon, have you seen Yujin?”

Jiwon shook her head. “Not since earlier. She said she was heading to pediatrics but that’s it.”

Wonyoung didn’t wait, she took off running.

The pediatric rehabilitation area was louder than usual.

Not with laughter. Not with games. But with crying.

One little girl sat in the corner, shoulders shaking, while two nurses tried their best to calm her. The distress in the room made Wonyoung’s stomach twist.

“What happened?” she asked, approaching them quickly.

But the crying child only sobbed harder.

Another girl, eyes red and glassy, tugged on Wonyoung’s sleeve.

“Unnie…” she whimpered. “Is Yujin-unnie… going to be okay?”

Wonyoung’s blood ran cold.

“What?” she breathed. “What do you mean?”

Nurse Kwon stepped forward, calm but serious.

“Yujin collapsed during playtime. Too much physical activity. We had to rush her to the ER.”

For a moment, the world blurred.

“Wonyoung?” Eunbi asked gently. “Are you..”

But Wonyoung was already running. By the time she reached the emergency room, Wonyoung was breathless, chest tight, lungs burning.

She pushed through the door…And there she was.

Yujin.

Sitting up on the bed. Talking calmly with Doctor Kang.

Alive.

Relief nearly buckled Wonyoung’s knees.

Dr. Kang noticed her first and gave Yujin’s shoulder a light tap.

“You need to rest,” she said. “And don’t even think about leaving this bed for at least thirty minutes.”

Then she turned to Wonyoung. “Keep an eye on her, please.”

Wonyoung opened her mouth, to clarify she wasn’t assigned to Yujin.

But Dr. Kang was already walking away.

And honestly? Wonyoung was going to keep an eye on her regardless.

So she stepped closer.

“Yujin…” she breathed, voice trembling with leftover panic.

Yujin’s head lifted, and her face lit up immediately.

“Hey,” she grinned, dimples showing despite her obvious exhaustion. “Why do you look like you ran a marathon?”

“You weren’t answering your phone!”

Yujin winced. “Sorry, I dropped it when I… uh… y’know.” She rubbed her neck awkwardly. “Fainted.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened. “You fainted?”

“It sounds worse than it is,” Yujin said quickly, holding up her hands. “I’m fine. Really. The kids wanted piggyback rides and…”

“An Yujin!” Wonyoung scolded, voice cracking with worry. “You can’t give piggyback rides! You can’t even… you…”

Her voice broke completely then.

Yujin instantly softened. She reached out and gently held Wonyoung’s hands.

“Hey… hey. I’m okay.”

“You scared them,” Wonyoung whispered. “You scared me.”

Yujin’s smile faded into something gentler, more serious.

“I’m sorry. I just… they were so excited and I didn’t want to say no.”

“I know you love them,” Wonyoung murmured, squeezing Yujin’s hands. “But you have to set limits. For your heart’s sake.”

“My heart’s sake?” Yujin teased weakly.

“Yujin.” Wonyoung gave her a stern look. “I’m serious. You shouldn’t be pushing yourself. Especially now.”

“Now?” Yujin blinked. “Wait…how did you..?”

“I talked to Nurse Director Irene.”

Yujin’s eyes widened. “Ah.”

Wonyoung searched her gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me, Yujin?”

Yujin looked down at their joined hands, thumbs brushing slowly.

“I… didn’t want to get your hopes up,” she said softly. “Not until things were certain. I didn’t want you waiting and worrying about something that might take months. Maybe longer.”

Wonyoung shook her head, tears slipping again.

“You don’t have to protect me from your hope,” she whispered. “I’m glad. I’m so, so glad you talked to the doctors.”

Yujin’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “How could I not? I want more time. More days. More… everything.”

She sucked in a shaky breath.

“I want to grow old,” she continued. “Even if that means growing old slowly. Even if it means fighting for every year I can get.”

Wonyoung cupped her cheek gently. “And your reason?” she asked softly.

Yujin leaned into her hand, eyes closing briefly.

“You,” she murmured. “I decided because of you.”

Wonyoung’s breath hitched.

“I want to be with you for a long time,” Yujin said, opening her eyes again, warm, sincere, shining. “Long enough to see you smile every day. Long enough to hold your hand whenever I want. Long enough so I don’t have to count the days.”

Wonyoung didn’t realize she was crying again until Yujin wiped her cheeks with her thumbs.

“Don’t cry,” Yujin whispered. “I’m right here. And I’m choosing the future where I stay.”

Wonyoung leaned forward and hugged her, carefully, mindful of her IV and the wires, but tightly enough that Yujin melted into her arms.

“Just… don’t scare me like that again,” Wonyoung whispered.

“No more piggyback rides,” Yujin promised. “Unless it’s for good behavior.”

“Yujin…”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “No piggyback rides ever. Promise.”

Wonyoung pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Good.”

“And Wony?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it,” Yujin whispered. “I’m doing this for us.”

Wonyoung kissed her forehead. “I know.”

Yujin was transferred back to her private room by early evening, the monitors safely reconnected, her vitals stable, and her energy still low but improving. Wonyoung walked beside the bed the entire way, one hand on the guard rail as if ready to steady Yujin at any second.

Jiwon teased from behind, “She has an assigned nurse, Wonyoung. You don’t need to hover.”

But Wonyoung didn’t even blush.

“I’m not hovering,” she said calmly. “I’m supervising.”

Yujin laughed weakly, lifting a hand toward Wonyoung. “She just loves me too much.”

Wonyoung swatted her hand playfully but took it anyway and squeezed.

Jiwon shook her head, amused.

And the assigned nurse, Nurse Kim, just smiled knowingly.

“I’ll take her vitals every hour,” Minju assured. “But I don’t mind the extra help.”

Yujin winked at Wonyoung. “See? Even the staff approves of my favorite nurse hovering.”

“Rest,” Wonyoung warned, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” Yujin grinned.

Night settled over the rehab, quiet and soft.

Yujin’s dinner tray came in, and naturally, Wonyoung took over feeding her. Yujin didn’t need help, she was perfectly capable, but the moment Wonyoung lifted the spoon, Yujin decided she was suddenly very incapable.

She opened her mouth obediently. “Ah.”

Wonyoung sighed, amused. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And cute,” Yujin added with a mouthful.

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away.

When the tray was cleared, Wonyoung reached for the blanket.

“You need to sleep.”

“Nooo,” Yujin whined dramatically. “Talk to me.”

“You need rest…”

“Stay with me,” Yujin said softly, tugging at the sleeve of Wonyoung’s scrubs. “I don’t want to be apart from you yet.”

That did it.

With a sigh, more fond than exasperated, Wonyoung sat back down in the chair beside the bed.

“Okay,” she relented. “But only for a little.”

Yujin smiled contentedly and touched her arm lightly, thumb stroking her skin.

Wonyoung hesitated for a moment, then asked carefully:

“Yujinnie… what about your family? Are you going to tell them about the surgery?”

The air changed instantly. Yujin’s smile faded. Her fingers stopped moving.

For a moment, Wonyoung regretted asking, but she stayed quiet, patient. Waiting.

Yujin took a slow breath. “Do you really want to know?”

“I do,” Wonyoung replied gently. “Only if you’re ready to tell me.”

Another long exhale. Then Yujin nodded.

“My father…” Yujin began slowly, “is a very wealthy and influential politician.”

Wonyoung blinked in surprise.

“But I’m… the result of an affair.”

Her voice didn’t waver, she had long accepted this, but it carried a quiet ache beneath the words.

“He gave my mom money to disappear. To never show up, never make a mess for him. She took the money… and she raised me alone.”

Wonyoung reached for her hand, but didn’t interrupt.

“She put the money in a trust fund. She told me never to use it unless I really needed it.” Yujin swallowed. “When I was twenty… she died. Same heart condition that I have.”

Wonyoung’s heart cracked. Yujin continued, voice quieter now.

“I inherited the money then. But I didn’t touch it. I thought using it would make me feel like I was acknowledging the man who didn’t want me.”

She sighed bitterly.

“I worked, lived quietly. Until my diagnosis. I couldn’t work anymore… and the rehab isn’t cheap. So I used the trust fund.”

Wonyoung squeezed her hand gently.

“Yujin… you did what you had to. That doesn’t make you weak.”

Yujin offered a small smile.

“There’s only one person from my old life who knows. My best friend, Rei.” She chuckled softly. “She cried more than I did when I told her. She dropped me off here but I made her promise not to visit.”

“Why?”

“Because cutting people off hurts less than letting them watch you die slowly.”

Wonyoung’s breath hitched. Yujin shrugged, eyes lowering.

“I thought it was kinder. Most of my friends… they just think I moved away. Started over. Only Rei knows the truth.”

Wonyoung couldn’t stop herself,  she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Yujin’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.

Not a careful hug. A real one.

“Yujin… you’re not alone anymore,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

Yujin’s breath trembled, and she lifted her arms slowly to hug Wonyoung back, tight, clinging, like she’d been waiting years for someone to hold her that way.

After a long moment, Yujin pulled back and gently tugged on Wonyoung’s hand.

“Come here.”

“Yujin…”

“Just for a little,” she pleaded softly. “Please.”

Wonyoung hesitated. Then she climbed carefully onto the side of the bed, settling against Yujin’s right side. Yujin immediately wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close, burying her face into Wonyoung’s shoulder.

She inhaled deeply, like Wonyoung’s scent was medicine.

Wonyoung laughed lightly. “I haven’t even showered yet. I’ve been working all day…”

“Don’t care,” Yujin mumbled, tightening her hold. “You smell like heaven. And you calm my heartbeat.”

Wonyoung softened instantly.

“Well… as long as my smell is helping your vitals,” she teased gently.

“Mm. It is. I can feel it.” Yujin nuzzled her neck contentedly. “Stay like this. Just a bit longer.”

Wonyoung rested her hand over Yujin’s chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm beneath her palm.

And for the first time since the scare earlier, she felt that heartbeat not in panic, but in peace.

-- -- -- 

A full month passed.

Yujin’s health had stabilized just enough to give everyone around her a small breath of relief. Her days were filled with careful routines: guided walks, medication schedules, quiet afternoons with the children, and every stolen moment she could get with Wonyoung.

Then, one morning, everything changed.

Nurse Minju burst into Yujin’s room with a smile so bright it made Yujin sit up straight.

“Yujin-ssi… they found a donor.” Her voice trembled with excitement. “A heart that might be a match.”

Yujin froze. For a moment, hope bloomed so suddenly it almost hurt.

“R–Really?”

Minju nodded. “The doctors are running last verification, but it looks promising. You’ll meet with them soon to discuss it.”

Yujin’s hands shook. Her breath quickened.

A donor. Possibly her donor.

She immediately thought of one person, the person she wanted to tell first. Her smile formed without her even realizing, dimples carving deep.

I have to tell Wonyoung.

She pushed the blanket aside, ready to stand, when a clipboard fell off the tray table beside her.

It clattered to the floor. Yujin crouched to pick it up and froze when her eyes landed on the top of the page:

“Priority Recipient List — Cardiac Transplant Candidates.”

Her name was circled at the top.

Below her was the next candidate:

Seo Jiyu — Critical Condition Level: 4 Age: 14

A child. Much sicker than she was.

Yujin’s heart sank. Her fingers tightened around the clipboard.

She stared at the name, unable to look away. Her own heartbeat felt thick, heavy, guilty.

She wanted this heart. She wanted to live. For Wonyoung. For the future she didn’t think she deserved before.

But…

Another part of her whispered:

You can save someone else again. Someone younger. Someone worse off than you.

Her throat tightened.

When Nurse Minju returned, Yujin quickly placed the clipboard back and forced a smile.

“Let me… think a little before I talk to the doctors,” she murmured.

Minju nodded gently and stepped out.

Yujin took a shaky breath. Then went to find the only person who could help her make sense of this.

Wonyoung was charting medications at the nurse station when Yujin approached, slowly, almost timidly. She looked up and brightened instantly.

“Yujinnie,” she greeted, smiling. “Hey, I was just about to check on y…”

Yujin’s expression made her stop.

“Yujin… what’s wrong?”

“Can we talk?” Her voice sounded small.

Wonyoung immediately led her to the empty family consultation room nearby. Once the door closed, Yujin didn’t waste a second.

“They found a donor.”

Wonyoung gasped. Her eyes widened, tears forming instantly.

“Baby… that’s amazing…”

“But,” Yujin cut in softly, “the next candidate on the list… it’s a kid. A fourteen-year-old girl. She’s worse off than me.”

Silence.

Wonyoung blinked, shocked. “What… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t know if I can take the heart,” Yujin admitted, looking down. “What if she needs it more? What if I’m taking away her chance?”

Wonyoung stepped back as if struck.

“What? Yujin… no.” Her voice trembled. “No. Don’t say that.”

“I’m okay,” Yujin whispered. “I can wait again…”

“No you can’t.” Wonyoung’s voice rose, sharp, emotional. “No you can’t wait again, Yujin. You already gave up three chances! Three!”

Yujin flinched, but she didn’t interrupt.

“You keep thinking you’re fine now, but what about tomorrow?" Wonyoung’s eyes filled with tears. “What if you collapse again? What if your condition suddenly worsens? What if next time… you don’t wake up?”

Yujin looked away, jaw tight. “But that girl..”

“She has her own chance, she will have her chance.” Wonyoung’s voice cracked. “This is your chance too.”

“But I…”

“God, I’m so sorry I care about you,” Wonyoung finally snapped, voice shaking. “I’m sorry I want you to choose yourself this time.”

Yujin’s eyes widened.

Wonyoung shook her head and stepped back, turning toward the door, wiping her tears quickly.

“I just… I just need air…”

Before she could take another step, Yujin’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her into a back hug so tight and desperate that Wonyoung froze.

“Don’t go.” Yujin’s voice cracked against Wonyoung’s back. “Please. Don’t walk away.”

Wonyoung swallowed hard. Yujin’s forehead rested against her shoulder blade.

“I’m sorry,” Yujin whispered, voice trembling. “I… sometimes forget I have someone who cares about me now. Someone who worries about me. I haven’t had that since my mom. So being selfless… giving chances away… it feels normal to me.”

Tears slipped silently down Wonyoung’s cheeks. She slowly turned around, facing Yujin, who looked devastated. She lifted her hands and gently cupped her face.

“Yujinnie,” she whispered, brushing her thumbs over her cheeks, “there is nothing wrong with being selfless. But right now?”

She leaned closer, resting her forehead against Yujin’s.

“You deserve this. You deserve to choose life. You deserve to stay. You deserve to be happy.”

Yujin closed her eyes, overwhelmed.

“I’m scared,” she confessed softly. “Not of the surgery. Just… what if I take it, and…” She swallowed. “And I don’t make it. And I cause you pain anyway?”

Wonyoung’s breath hitched.

“You loving me has already changed my life,” she whispered. “Losing you would break me… yes. But losing you because you didn’t even try would destroy me in a way I won’t recover from.”

Yujin opened her eyes and what she saw in Wonyoung’s face, the fierce, terrified love,  made everything inside her settle.

Calm. Clear. Decided.

Yujin nodded slowly. “Okay,” she breathed. “I’ll do it.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened.

“I’ll accept the heart. Not just for me… but for you. Because I want to live. I want to stay. I want to be by your side for a long time.”

Wonyoung let out a choked laugh-sob, relief flooding through her.

“And Wony?” Yujin whispered, cupping her cheek. “I love you. So much. I didn’t know I could want something like a future until you.”

Wonyoung leaned in, pressing her forehead to Yujin’s again.

“And I love you too,” she whispered. “So choose us. Choose you. Please.”

Yujin finally, finally smiled.

“I choose us.”

-- -- -- 

The entire rehab felt heavier that evening.

Nurses spoke softer. Hallway lights felt dimmer. Everything seemed to hold its breath.

Yujin had spent the day in a blur of pre-op procedures, blood draws, examinations, final scans, consent forms, briefings from cardiologists, anesthesiologists, surgeons. Wonyoung stayed close whenever she was allowed to, her hands trembling each time someone in a white coat approached.

Yujin tried to stay calm. For herself. For Wonyoung. For the future she desperately wanted to reach.

But as night fell, reality settled over both of them like an unwelcome shadow.

Yujin would be taken to the OR at 6 a.m. It was almost midnight now.

Wonyoung stayed in her room, sitting beside her on the bed, fingers interlocked with Yujin’s as if letting go even for a second might break her.

They talked softly, slowly, like each word could be their last shared memory.

They laughed. They cried. They kissed, gently.

Then, eventually… Yujin reached under her pillow.

And pulled out a folded letter.

Wonyoung’s breath hitched the moment she saw it.

“Yujin… what is that?”

“My… just-in-case letter.”

“No.” Wonyoung shook her head instantly, voice trembling. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Baby…”

“I don’t want you thinking like that. I don’t want you imagining worst-case scenarios. You’re going to be fine, Yujin. You’ll make it, and you won’t need any letter like that.”

Yujin took her hand again, squeezing it gently.

“I know. I’m trying to think positive too. But… we both know there’s a chance.” Her voice wavered just slightly. “A small one, but real.”

Wonyoung swallowed thickly. Tears already formed in her eyes.

“But I don’t want to accept that possibility,” she whispered.

Yujin touched her cheek tenderly.

“I want you to have this letter, not because I’m giving up… but because I want you to have everything you deserve, even in the worst scenario. I want my words to stay with you.”

Wonyoung hesitated, breath trembling. Then, trembling fingers, she slowly took the letter.

She held it close to her chest, eyes wet, lips pressed tight to stop herself from breaking completely. After a moment, she whispered,

“Can you… read it to me instead? I want to remember the words… in your voice. Just in case.”

Yujin’s breath caught. But she nodded. She unfolded the letter and began reading. Her voice was calm, soft, painfully sincere.

“To my Wonyoung,”

Yujin’s voice wavered but stayed steady enough to continue.

“If you’re reading this, then it means things didn’t go the way we hoped and wanted it to be, and for that… I’m sorry.”

Wonyoung squeezed her hand tighter now, knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for leaving you so soon,

for hurting you,

for making you cry,

but what I won’t apologize for is going through the surgery.

For trying.”

Yujin blinked away the tears forming in her own eyes.

“Please don’t blame yourself for convincing me to follow through.

I wanted it myself, I just needed a little push from you.”

Wonyoung’s first sob escaped quietly.

Yujin’s voice softened even more.

“Thank you.

For coming into my life.

For bringing joy and pure happiness that I lost when I learned about my condition.

For allowing me to hope again.

For letting me love you… and for loving me just as much despite the uncertainty and inevitable pain I’d cause you.”

Wonyoung covered her mouth with her free hand, tears streaming uncontrollably.

“I cherished every single day, hour, minute, and second we spent together, because I knew they were limited.”

Yujin stopped reading for a breath. Her voice broke slightly before continuing.

“I wish I had more time.

More time to tell you how much I love you.

More time to look at your beautiful face.

More time to touch you,

to hear your angelic voice.”

Wonyoung sobbed harder now, leaning into Yujin’s shoulder.

“I love every single thing about you, Jang Wonyoung.

And it may sound crazy,

but I knew from the moment my heart started longing for you when you weren’t around…

that I’d want to spend whatever days I had left loving you.”

Wonyoung whispered a broken, “Yujinnie…” but Yujin continued.

“I’m sad and gutted to leave you like this.

But I’m happy,

and content,

knowing you were the person I gave my heart to,

not literally, but you know what I mean.”

A tiny sad laugh escaped Yujin.

Wonyoung cried harder.

“I hope we cross paths again in our next life,

in a much better and healthier circumstance.”

Yujin swallowed hard, blinking away tears.

“I love you.

Please don’t ever forget it.

Yours forever,

Yujin.”

When she finished the last word, Wonyoung was already clinging to her, arms wrapped tightly around Yujin’s waist, face buried deep into her chest, tears soaking through the hospital shirt. Her entire body trembled with silent sobs.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whimpered, voice breaking so painfully that Yujin felt her own heart crack.

Yujin wrapped both arms around her, holding her fiercely. She rubbed Wonyoung’s back in slow, comforting circles.

“I won’t,” she whispered against her hair. “I won’t, my love. Not if I can help it.”

Wonyoung only cried harder, grabbing fistfuls of Yujin’s shirt.

Yujin tilted her face up gently and kissed her.

Soft. Reassuring. Full of promise.

“I’m coming back to you,” Yujin whispered into her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Wonyoung nodded weakly, still crying, still clinging.

They stayed like that for a long time. A girl terrified of losing her love,

and another girl determined to survive for her.

-- -- --

Morning arrived far too quickly.

The world outside Yujin’s room was quiet and cold when the nurses came to prepare her for transfer. Wonyoung stayed beside her through every step, helping her change into the surgical gown, combing her hair gently, whispering soft reassurances even when her own voice trembled.

Yujin squeezed her hand one last time before being wheeled out.

“I’ll come back to you,” she said, weak but certain.

And Wonyoung, choking back her rising panic, forced a smile.

“I’ll be right here waiting. So you better.”

Yujin gave her a soft, lingering look, the kind people give when words aren’t enough, then disappeared into the brightly lit hallway leading to the operating wing.

The moment she was gone, the emptiness hit like a wave.

But Wonyoung stood stiffly, inhaled deeply, then whispered to herself:

“Don’t cry. You can’t fall apart. You need to be strong for her.”

The surgical waiting area felt colder than usual.

Sterile. Bright. Too quiet.

Wonyoung sat in the far corner, hands clasped tightly together, staring at the red “IN USE” sign above the operating room doors.

She promised herself she wouldn’t cry today.

No matter how scared she was. No matter how long it took. No matter how loud the “what if” whispered in her mind.

Yujin needed her to be strong. Needed her steady. Needed her waiting.

She held onto that like a lifeline.

But after three hours passed…

Then four…

Then five…

Her heart started to pound louder than the clock on the wall.

Each hour that ticked by, her leg bounced faster, her breaths grew shallower, her fingers trembled harder.

Every time a surgeon walked out of any OR, she shot up from her seat, only to realize it wasn’t Yujin’s team.

Wonyoung swallowed back tears each time.

“She promised me. She said she’d come back. She promised.”

She repeated it under her breath like a prayer.

Around the sixth hour, hurried footsteps echoed across the waiting hall.

Jiwon approached with a bag of warm food in her arms, worry etched across her face the moment she saw Wonyoung.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” she said softly.

Wonyoung shook her head. “I can’t. Not until she’s out.”

Jiwon sighed and sat beside her, placing the food in her lap anyway.

“You need to keep your strength. Yujin would yell at you if she knew you weren’t taking care of yourself.”

Wonyoung didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

Her eyes were fixed on that red light above the OR door, as if looking at it could pull Yujin back to her.

Jiwon wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm in slow, comforting motions.

“She’ll be okay, Won. She’s strong, remember? She’s fought this long. She can handle this too.”

Wonyoung closed her eyes, pressed her lips together tightly, and nodded.

But she didn’t eat. She stayed sitting upright, tense, unblinking, waiting.

Always waiting.

The seventh hour hit.

And finally, finally, the operating room doors opened.

Doctor Kang stepped out first, mask still around her neck, her surgical cap slightly tilted, looking exhausted but composed.

The moment Wonyoung saw her, she shot up so fast her chair screeched across the floor.

Her legs felt weak, barely able to hold her up, but she forced herself forward anyway, Jiwon rising behind her in silent support.

Doctor Kang scanned the room, eyes landing on Wonyoung.

And then, she smiled.

Wonyoung exhaled a shaky breath, knees buckling the moment she saw that smile. 

“The surgery…” she whispered, voice trembling, “please… please tell me…”

Doctor Kang stepped closer, gentle, reassuring.

“It was a success.”

The world tilted.

Wonyoung’s knees gave out and she dropped to the floor, not from pain, but from overwhelming, breath-stealing relief. A choked sob came from her chest, her hands flying to her face as tears poured down like a broken dam.

Jiwon crouched beside her instantly, holding her shoulders as Wonyoung cried freely for the first time that day.

Doctor Kang continued, her voice warm and proud.

“Yujin did incredibly well. The heart responded beautifully. She fought through every step. She’s stable.”

Wonyoung sobbed harder, this time with pure, overwhelming joy.

“Thank you… thank you, thank you so much,” she cried, bowing deeply even from her knees.

Doctor Kang knelt slightly so Wonyoung would hear her clearly.

“She’s a strong one. And she has something very important to come back to.” Her eyes softened. “She’ll be moved to the ICU for monitoring. Once she’s transferred back to her room, you can see her.”

Wonyoung wiped her eyes with both hands, nodding furiously.

“Okay…okay, I’ll wait. I’ll stay. I’ll be here.”

Doctor Kang smiled again. “I know you will.”

As the medical team walked away, Wonyoung remained on her knees for a moment longer, crying silently into her hands.

Jiwon helped her stand and hugged her tightly.

“She made it,” Jiwon whispered. “She’s okay, Won.”

Wonyoung nodded, tears still falling but breathing finally steadying.

“She promised me,” she whispered hoarsely. “She promised she’d come back.”

And to her endless relief, Yujin did.

Wonyoung sat outside the ICU, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. Even knowing the surgery was successful, she couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing, couldn’t stop her eyes from staring at the ICU doors like she could will them to open faster.

Every few minutes she stood up, walked three steps, turned, sat back down, then stood up again.

Jiwon stayed with her, quiet and steady, giving Wonyoung space but never leaving her side. “She’s stable,” She reminded her gently. “The hard part’s over. Now she just needs to wake up.”

Wonyoung nodded, but her chest still felt tight.

Because knowing Yujin survived was one thing. 

Seeing her breathing… hearing her voice… touching her…that was when she’d finally believe everything was okay.

At last, a nurse stepped out and called softly:

“Nurse Jang? You can come in now.”

Wonyoung didn’t walk, she practically ran, stopping only when she reached the glass door to Yujin’s ICU room.

Her heart crumbled.

Yujin lay on the bed, pale, covered in wires and tubes, an oxygen mask over her mouth. Machines beeped steadily around her, rhythmically marking each breath, each heartbeat, her new heartbeat.

Wonyoung’s hand flew to her mouth, tears instantly filling her eyes.

But this time she didn’t cry from fear.

She cried because Yujin was alive. Because the heart was beating. Because she kept her promise.

The ICU nurse guided her inside.

“You can hold her hand,” she whispered kindly. “Just be gentle.”

Wonyoung approached slowly, almost afraid she would break if she touched her too quickly. She brushed her fingers over Yujin’s hand first, then held it properly, bringing it to her cheek.

“You did it,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You really did it, baby.”

Yujin didn’t wake, but her fingers twitched faintly against Wonyoung’s palm.l

Hours passed.

Wonyoung never left Yujin’s side.

She sat quietly, occasionally brushing Yujin’s hair away from her forehead, or pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

It was nearly midnight when Yujin finally stirred.

A soft, broken sound escaped from behind the oxygen mask, a strained whimper, like she was trying to speak.

Wonyoung gasped and leaned forward instantly.

“Yujinnie? Hey…hey, I’m here,” she whispered, brushing her thumb across the back of Yujin’s hand. “Baby, I’m here.”

Yujin’s eyelids fluttered weakly.

Then slowly, painfully…They opened.

Her eyes were hazy, unfocused, full of discomfort and confusion. She moved slightly, like she was trying to look around but everything was too bright, too heavy.

Wonyoung squeezed her hand and spoke softly.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re out of surgery, Yujinnie.”

Yujin blinked a few times.

Her lips moved under the mask.

Wonyoung leaned closer.

“…Won…wony…?”

The sound was raspy. Barely a whisper. Barely formed.

But she heard it. She heard her name.

Wonyoung’s breath hitched, tears immediately falling.

“Yes. Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m right here.”

Yujin’s eyes drifted, trying to find her, trying to focus.

When they finally did, when Yujin finally saw her clearly, her body relaxed, like she’d been holding tension even in unconsciousness.

Her fingers curled weakly around Wonyoung’s.

“You… stayed…”

Wonyoung let out a choked laugh.

“Of course I stayed. I told you I’m not going anywhere.”

Yujin blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy, her breathing soft and uneven.

Then she mouthed through the mask. “I love you.”

Wonyoung’s heart broke and healed all at once.

She leaned down, pressing her forehead to Yujin’s.

“I love you too. So much. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Yujin closed her eyes, exhausted, leaning into the warmth of her girlfriend’s touch.

Her hand remained weakly clasped around Wonyoung’s, refusing to let go.

And Wonyoung stayed like that, holding her, breathing with her, thanking every star in the universe for giving her Yujin back.

— — — 

Chapter Text

Recovery was slow, delicate, and sometimes painful, but Wonyoung stayed through every second of it, exactly like she promised.

She took days off work without hesitation, practically moving into Yujin’s ICU room the moment she was allowed. The nurses teased her for hovering, and Wonyoung didn’t deny it one bit.

Because now that she had Yujin back, she wasn’t letting anything risk her again.

When Yujin was finally moved out of ICU and into a recovery room, she woke up to Wonyoung fussing over her blanket, checking her water temperature, adjusting the curtains.

“Wony,” Yujin croaked, voice still weak from the surgery. “I’m not a porcelain doll.”

Wonyoung immediately crossed her arms.

“You literally just survived a heart transplant. Sit there and look adorable. I’ll do the rest.”

Yujin laughed, softly, because laughing too hard still hurt,  but her whole chest warmed at the sight of her girlfriend worrying so intensely.

Whenever Yujin reached for something , a cup, her phone, even a tissue,  Wonyoung would beat her to it.

“No lifting,” Wonyoung would scold. “Doctor’s orders.”

Yujin always sighed dramatically. “Baby, it’s only a napkin.”

“I don’t care,” she replied, placing it gently in her hand. “You’re resting.”

But the truth was, Yujin loved every second of it.

Someone caring for her. Someone choosing her. Someone loving her enough to stay.

She never took the feeling for granted.

One evening, as the sun set orange against the windows, Yujin tugged Wonyoung closer.

“Come here.”

Wonyoung sat on the edge of the bed, eyebrows raised suspiciously.

“What do you need? Water? A snack? The remote…”

“Just you,” Yujin whispered.

Before Wonyoung could blink, Yujin gently took her hand and placed it over the left side of her chest, right above the incision, right above her new heart.

Wonyoung’s breath caught.

“Feel that?” Yujin murmured.

A steady rhythm thudded against her palm. Strong. Alive. Real.

“It’s beating for you,” Yujin said softly, meeting her eyes. “This heart… it’s yours just as much as it’s mine.”

Wonyoung cried silently, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to Yujin’s temple.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “You’re really here… you really stayed.”

“I told you,” Yujin smiled. “I would never leave you.”

A month later, Yujin was strong enough to be discharged.

The entire rehab center gathered, staff, nurses, doctors, and a dozen children clinging to her legs, begging her not to leave.

“Unnie, you promise you’ll visit?” one of the little girls sniffled.

Yujin knelt carefully, hugging her gently. “Every day if I can,” she said. “And I’ll read to you again. Pinky promise.”

They hooked pinkies. Another group of kids formed a line to get their turn.

Nurse Minju hugged her. Doctor Kang squeezed her shoulder proudly. Nurse Irene smiled warmly and told her she’d always have a family here.

Yujin bowed, voice thick.

“Thank you… for everything. I wouldn’t be alive without all of you.”

When she turned around, Wonyoung was waiting by the entrance, holding her bag, smiling as if she was looking at the entire universe.

“Ready to go home?” she asked.

Yujin blinked. “Home? You mean my apartment hunt..?”

“No.” Wonyoung stepped closer, taking both of Yujin’s hands. “Live with me.”

Yujin stared, stunned. “Are you sure?”

Wonyoung nodded before she could even finish asking.

“I want to wake up with you. I want to cook for you. I want to help you heal. I want to take care of you because I love you, and I want you with me. Always.”

Yujin’s heart beat a little faster, but this time, it wasn’t dangerous.

It was love.

“I’d love that,” Yujin whispered. “I’d really love that.”

Moving in together wasn’t dramatic, just two duffel bags, a box of books, and Yujin’s favorite stuffed animal from the children.

Wonyoung cleared the bottom drawer of her dresser for Yujin. Then half the closet. Then most of the bathroom shelves.

They fell into a soft, easy rhythm.

Wonyoung cooking breakfast while Yujin hugged her from behind, cheek pressed to her shoulder.

Yujin sitting on the couch doing breathing exercises while Wonyoung read reports beside her.

Wonyoung kissing her scar gently every night, whispering, 

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

Yujin placing Wonyoung’s hand on her chest every morning, whispering, “Still beating for you.”

They decorated the apartment with polaroids, hospital photos, first-date photos, pictures of Yujin surrounded by her pediatric kids, Wonyoung sleeping on Yujin’s shoulder in the garden bench.

It felt like a life built together, piece by piece.

One quiet night, with soft lights on and Yujin lying in bed while Wonyoung rubbed lotion on her healed scar, Yujin caught Wonyoung’s wrist gently.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Wonyoung looked up. “Hmm?”

Yujin sat up a little, cupping Wonyoung’s face with trembling emotion.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For everything. For saving me. For fighting for me. For loving me enough to want forever.”

Wonyoung smiled through her tears, leaning into her palm.

“I didn’t save you,” she whispered. “You saved yourself. I just refused to let you do it alone.”

Yujin let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sob. She pulled Wonyoung into her arms, kissing her slowly, deeply, with a gratitude that words could never hold.

When they parted, foreheads touching, breaths warm and mingled, Yujin whispered.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Wonyoung kissed her again. “Then let’s make it a long one.”

With a new heart beating strong, and a love that never wavered, Yujin and Wonyoung built a life filled with warmth, laughter, and soft whispered promises.

A life where mornings started with kisses, and nights ended with cuddles,

and every day in between was a reminder of the miracle they shared.

A life where Yujin truly lived and Wonyoung loved her through every second.

Together. 

For as long as they were given.

And maybe even longer.

—End—