Seeing Him

The emergency room at Seoul General Hospital was always alive with a kind of energy that felt like it was humming beneath your skin. The sterile, white walls seemed to bounce the harsh fluorescent lights back at you, and the polished tiles gleamed underfoot as if trying to reflect the weight of everything that happened there. The constant beeping of medical monitors and the occasional wail of an ambulance siren outside—it was a symphony of chaos that I had grown used to. After four years, the adrenaline pumping through the ER was just another beat in the rhythm of my life.

But with that rhythm came a certain loneliness. The hospital had become my world—my safe haven, but also my cage. I moved through it with a practiced ease, my stethoscope swinging loosely around my neck, my jet-black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. It was easier to keep people at arm's length, to let the walls of this place protect me from the world outside.

One night, after hours of running on pure adrenaline, I spotted Dr. Saung Min across the room. He was new, fresh from some small hospital in the countryside, but he'd already made a name for himself here. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a smile that could light up a room—if he ever allowed it to. But what caught my eye in that moment wasn't his smile; it was the way he was leaning against the nurses' station, a cup of coffee in his hand. The overhead lights cast deep shadows on his face, and I could see the exhaustion there, the way it had settled into the lines around his eyes.

Without thinking, I found myself walking toward him. My own fatigue slowed my steps, but something else—something I couldn't quite name—pushed me forward. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be struggling under the weight of the same burdens that had once consumed me, or maybe it was the unspoken connection between two people who had given themselves to this place, body and soul.

"Long night?" I asked softly when I was close enough to speak without startling him.

He looked up, and for a moment, his eyes met mine. I felt my heart skip a beat, and a rush of something warm spread through me. It was as if the world had shifted, just a little, in that brief exchange. His gaze was intense, like he was seeing right through the walls I had so carefully built.

"Yes," he replied, his voice low and rough, like he hadn't spoken in hours. "Too long."

I could feel the tension in the air between us, something electric and unspoken. It caught me off guard, and suddenly, I was hyper-aware of everything—the way his fingers tightened around the coffee cup, the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath, the way the fluorescent lights seemed to dim, just for a moment, leaving us in a private little world of our own.

I didn't know what to say next, but I didn't need to. He straightened up, setting the cup down on the counter, and took a step closer. My breath hitched as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You look like you could use a break too, Mina."

The way he said my name—like he'd been waiting to say it—made my pulse race. It was a simple statement, nothing more, but there was something in his tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, the exhaustion that had weighed me down all night seemed to vanish, replaced by a different kind of tension, one that made me feel more alive than I had in a long time.

"I—maybe," I stammered, trying to find my footing in this unexpected moment.

He smiled then, a slow, easy smile that did something strange to my insides. "Come on," he said, nodding toward the break room. "Just for a minute." I hesitated, but only for a second. The promise in his eyes was too tempting to resist. Without another word, I followed him, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with possibilities. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us, caught in a moment that felt like it could change everything.  And as we walked side by side, I couldn't help but wonder—what if it already had?

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