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Chapter Text

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. The persistent sound of her pager broke the quiet of Sienna's home. Another emergency. Another case she didn't have time for.

She groaned, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes before glancing at the clock. 8 a.m. Not terribly early for most people, but for someone who regularly went to bed at 3 a.m., it might as well have been dawn.

She had chosen psychiatry to avoid the chaos of emergencies, yet here she was, being dragged into another one. Ever since her senior went on sabbatical, all the urgent cases, along with Dr. Choi's patients, had been referred to her. 

Sienna already had her hands full with her own patients. She could not handle more but Dr. Choi had asked her so kindly, with those pleading eyes and soft words, to take on her caseload while she was on sabbatical that Sienna could not refuse. It felt impossible to refuse, and now, it was starting to wear on her.

As she was hurrying to get her things before leaving, her phone vibrated on the desk. It was a call from her mother.

"Sooyeon-ah, are you free today? It's been a long time since you visited. Why don't you come over today?" Her mother's voice echoed with a distant warmth, as if trying to bridge an invisible space between them.

Only her mother ever called her Sooyeon. 

That name felt foreign to her, reserved only for moments when her mother tried to pull her back into a past she had long outgrown. Her whole life everyone, from her friends to her colleagues, even her own dad, called her Sienna.

"I have tomorrow off, how about I visit then?" Sienna asked her mother hoping to get some time for herself.

"I have plans with your aunt tomorrow. Can't you come today?" her mother asked, her voice a little more insistent, a touch of disappointment creeping in.

Sienna bit her lip, feeling a wave of guilt.

"But I have work until five in the evening." Sienna replied. "Then you can come after work, can't you? Its been so long since you visited." her mother insisted, not willing to take no for an answer.

Sienna paused, letting out a long sigh. She didn't want to disappoint her mother, but she also felt the weight of her own exhaustion pressing down on her. "Fine, I'll come after work, around 6 p.m."

Her mother's voice brightened instantly. "I'll see you then. Don't be late!"

It wasn't that Sienna had a strained relationship with her mother, but rather that their connection always felt somewhat... distant. Superficial, even. 

Sienna wasn't reluctant to visit because of her distant relationship with her mother. She loved her mother. It was the exhaustion that weighed on her.

Her residency had been grueling, demanding long hours and relentless pressure, and she was beyond tired.

With Dr. Choi on sabbatical, the burden of extra work had fallen squarely on Sienna's shoulders. Her schedule had become overwhelming, leaving little room for herself.

She'd been looking forward to a rare evening off, imagining a few quiet hours to unwind–maybe reading a book or finally catching up on some much needed sleep.

But her mother's request to meet had quickly taken away that precious free time.

Her parents had divorced when she was eighteen, and while Sienna had tried to stay neutral during the separation, it had been hard to ignore the emotional chasm between them.

Her mother, still reeling from the end of her marriage, had asked Sienna to move with her to Korea and pursue her medical degree in Korea. 

At the time, Sienna had been planning to stay in the U.S. to finish her medical studies, but she couldn't bring herself to say no. Her mother was devastated, and Sienna felt obligated to protect her from further heartbreak.

Though Sienna had already planned out her future back in San Francisco, she made the choice to accompany her mother to Seoul. 

She had quite a few friends back in San Francisco, but none of them were particularly close. The move wasn't too difficult, but it also wasn't easy. She had missed San Francisco, her father, and the life she had been carving out there.

Eight years later, Seoul still didn't feel like home.

Sienna grabbed her car keys and headed out the door, the cold air of Seoul hitting her as she stepped outside. The drive to Hanyang University Hospital was uneventful, but her mind felt clouded with a mix of duty and exhaustion.

She reached the hospital at around 9a.m. After dealing with all the emergency cases she felt drained...being the go to person for everything, especially with Dr. Choi on sabbatical.

By noon, she was running on nothing but caffeine and sheer willpower.

She began with her outpatients. After dealing with a handful of patients, each conversation pulling at her more than the last, the nurse stopped by her office.

She was in the middle of reviewing patient notes when a nurse stopped by her office, her face lit with barely contained excitement.

"The next patient is a VIP... an idol," the nurse said.

Siena's exhaustion momentarily faded, replaced by curiosity. Idols. She had heard stories of celebrities seeking psychiatric help, but she'd never treated one herself. 

She straightened up, a mix of professional curiosity and personal intrigue bubbling up. 

Which idol?" she asked, though she wasn't sure why she cared. A patient was a patient, no matter how famous.

The nurse hesitated, clearly relishing the suspense. "Boo Seungkwan."

"Boo Seungkwan? From Seventeen?" She wasn't an avid K pop fan, but even she knew who Seungkwan was. The guy was practically a household name–known for his humor, his quick wit, his powerful vocals. He was the type of celebrity who seemed larger than life. What was he doing in therapy?

Then again, if anyone needed therapy, it was idols. The industry was ruthless.

"Alright," she said, schooling her expression into professional indifference. "Send him in."

As the nurse left, Sienna took a moment to compose herself. Whatever she thought she knew about Boo Seungkwan didn't matter. He wasn't an entertainer here. He wasn't a public figure.

He was just another patient.

This was certainly going to be an interesting session.

Chapter Text

"Seungkwan-ah..."

"SEUNGKWAN-AH..."

"YA! BOO SEUNGKWAN!" Jeonghan's voice rang through the apartment, sharp and urgent.

Buried under the warmth of his blankets, Seungkwan groaned. His body still felt heavy with sleep, and the last thing he wanted was to get up early on a day off. 10 a.m. wasn't exactly early, but for Seungkwan–who stayed up until 3 a.m. every night–it might as well have been the crack of dawn.

He cracked one eye open, only to immediately squeeze it shut again. Maybe if he lay still long enough, Jeonghan would give up and assume he had ascended to another plane of existence

"Why are you shouting so early in the morning?" he grumbled, voice raspy from sleep. "At this rate, I'll be deaf soon. Will you take responsibility for my failed career then? Are you ready to financially support me for life, hyung? Rent isn't cheap."

He heard Jeonghan scrambling here and there around the room, opening and closing drawers, shuffling through papers–probably running late again. Honestly, for someone who had been alive for almost three decades, Jeonghan sure struggled with basic time management.

"Just get up already," Jeonghan huffed.

"What if I refuse?" Seungkwan mumbled, burrowing deeper under the blanket.

"Then I'll personally drag you out and post a picture of you drooling in your sleep."

"You wouldn't dare."

Jeonghan smirked. "Try me."

With a sigh, Seungkwan finally forced himself upright, rubbing his eyes before sluggishly making his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

By the time he emerged, Jeonghan was still rushing around, his hair slightly disheveled from all the movement. Seungkwan made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and lazily pouring in some cereal and milk. He took one bite before immediately regretting all his life choices. Because, of course, the cereal was stale.

"Don't forget your appointment today," Jeonghan called over his shoulder, fumbling with his shoes by the door. "I have to head to work early, so I won't be able to go with you. Call Shua when you leave. He'll meet you at the hospital."

Seungkwan let out a dramatic groan, letting his spoon clatter against the bowl. "Ahhh, hyung... I'm not a baby. I don't need Shua hyung to take me. I can go on my own." 

Jeonghan paused, turning back to look at him. His expression softened as he watched Seungkwan stirring his cereal absentmindedly.

"I know," he said gently. "I know you don't need anyone. But I'd feel better if you weren't alone. Just call Shua for my sake, alright? Humor me, just this once."

Seungkwan sighed, puffing out his cheeks before muttering, "Fine."

With a satisfied nod, Jeonghan finally stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Left alone, Seungkwan stared down at his bowl of cereal, stirring it mindlessly as his thoughts drifted. The milk was slowly turning a murky beige, the cereal pieces swelling and losing their crunch, now resembling something only a toddler with zero standards would enjoy.

He hated how his members treated him–as if he were made of fragile glass, as if he would shatter at any moment. He knew they meant well, but their careful concern only reminded him of how much had changed.

The past two years had been brutal. Seungkwan had always been hardworking, pushing himself to the limit for the sake of his group. He thrived in variety shows, keeping audiences entertained with his quick wit and infectious energy. But between relentless schedules, sleepless nights, and the constant pressure to perform, it was only a matter of time before his body and mind started to crumble.

By 2022-23, the exhaustion had finally caught up to him. The burnout was unlike anything he had ever experienced–deep, bone weary fatigue that no amount of sleep could fix.

And then, his world shattered completely.

His best friend, the person who had always been his safe place, was gone. Just like that. No warning. No chance to say goodbye.

The pain was suffocating. He had tried to push through, to keep moving forward as if nothing had changed, but the grief clung to him like a shadow.

Still, he smiled. He laughed. He cracked jokes. Because that's what he did best. Made others happy. If he could distract people from their pain, maybe he could distract himself too.

No one noticed how much he was suffering. Not until it was too late.

The breakdown had been inevitable. One moment, he was fine, and the next, he was crumbling in front of his members, unable to hold himself together any longer. After that, everything blurred. His company put him on hiatus. He was forced to step away from the stage, from the cameras, from the world he had thrown himself into.

At first, he hated it. The silence was unbearable. The absence of schedules, rehearsals, and shows left too much space for his thoughts to fester. But slowly, with time, he began to heal.

His members never left him alone. With twelve of them, at least one called him every day, checking in, making sure he was eating, making sure he was still there. Jeonghan, whom he had been living with, visited him the most, sometimes just sitting beside him in comfortable silence, letting him exist without expectations.

His family helped too. The warmth of home, of familiarity, soothed parts of him that had been aching for years.

And then, of course, there was therapy.

At first, he resisted. He didn't need it. He was fine. He just needed rest. But his members didn't give him a choice. They pushed, and he finally gave in.

One session was all it took to realize that healing wasn't just about resting. It was about facing everything he had buried, confronting the emotions he had ignored.

It was painful. It was exhausting. But it was necessary.

And today was just another session. Another step forward.

The shrill ring of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Blinking, he glanced at the screen. Joshua.

"Hello," he answered, clearing his throat.

"Seungkwan-ah, what time is your appointment?" Joshua's voice was light but firm.

"It's at noon. Twelve, to be exact. But you don't have to come, hyung. I can manage on my own. Jeonghan hyung is just being too much."

"Okay, I'll be there at 12. Don't be late."

"Hyung, did you even hear what I said?" Seungkwan asked, his tone laced with sass.

Joshua chuckled. "I heard you. Now, don't be late. See you soon, okay?"

"Bye," Seungkwan muttered before hanging up.

He looked down at his bowl. The cereal had turned into an unappetizing mush, resembling porridge more than anything else. With a sigh, he stood up, dumping the contents into the garbage before heading out for his morning jog.

Maybe some fresh air would help clear his mind or maybe he'd just buy himself a croissant and call it self care.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

"Shua hyung!" I shouted, practically jumping out of the taxi as it dropped me off at Hanyang.

Joshua's eyes, wide like saucers, turned to look at me. "I told you not to be late. You're 30 minutes late!" He crossed his arms, trying to look stern, but that signature smile of his tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Sorry, hyung, but it's not my fault," I said with a pout. "You have no idea what I've been through! There was traffic, then the elevator in our building broke down, then the door refused to budge like it had some personal vendetta against me, and–"

Before I could go on, Joshua sighed loudly, like he was dealing with a child.

"Let's just hurry," he said. "I have a date later today."

I froze mid step, my eyes going wide. "Wait, what? You have a date? Hyung, I seriously thought you'd die single!"

Joshua shot me a glare that made me think he was about to throw me in a headlock, but then he just cursed under his breath and led the way into the building.

"I swear, Seungkwan, you have no filter," he muttered as we waited for our turn.

"At least I have a date," he said, changing the subject. "What about you? When was the last time you went out with woman who is not your mother or older sister?"

I shrugged, trying to act casual. "I'm seeing someone."

Joshua's eyes widened.

Before I could elaborate, he cut me off. "Your therapist doesn't count as 'seeing someone,' Seungkwan."

Then I guess I'm not seeing anyone," I sighed, defeated. "

The nurse came to call us, and I followed her to the office.

She started explaining that Dr. Choi was on sabbatical, and her junior–another doctor–would take over for the time being.

I was excited to meet this new doctor.

As I waited outside her counseling room, my phone buzzed.

Jeonghan hyung. Ever since his mandatory service started, he had way too much free time. The guy works in social service, so he's allowed to use his phone.

"Before you ask, yes, Shua hyung is here with me. We're about to go in," I said, not even giving him a chance to reply.

"Okay, just checking in. Call me after your session," Jeonghan replied, his voice laced with relief.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

The members were horrible at hiding their concern for me. It was like they all thought I was some fragile little flower that was going to break at any moment.

After hanging up, the nurse returned, and I headed into my session.

When I walked in, I was immediately taken aback. The doctor looked way too young. I mean, wasn't the whole point of being a doctor to look like you've seen some things in life? Most doctors I've met have been older, with wrinkles and bags under their eyes that tell you they've had a tough career. But this girl? She looked like she'd just finished high school.

Her brown hair was tied in a messy half bun, half ponytail situation, like she'd been running late for her own appointment. From the looks of it, she'd had a really long day, and it was barely even lunchtime.

Her eyes were almond shaped, and her features reminded me of Vernon–like half Korean, maybe? Her lips were naturally flushed, and she had this smile that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. Her eyes radiated warmth, and–wait, was I blushing?

It took me a moment to realize she was actually gesturing for me to sit down. Only when she cleared her throat and told me sit down did I snap out of my trance.

She looked so young.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "You look different, Dr. Choi. Did you, like, do something with your face? You look so young."

She blinked, staring at me like I'd just told her I was from another planet.

Mentally, I facepalmed myself. Way to go, Seungkwan. Brilliant first impression.

I scrambled to apologize, saying I was joking. She finally chuckled, and that sound... it was like a little wave of relief washed over me.

Her laugh was infectious, cute, and, dare I say it, kind of endearing. Maybe being single for so long had made me a little... susceptible to these things.

With a grin, she introduced herself. "I'm Dr. Kang Sienna."

Sienna.

Well, that was just a beautiful name.

"So, Mr. Seungkwan, while I read through your case file and patient reports, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" she asked, her eyes still glued to the file in front of her, not even sparing me a glance.

"Okay... um... hello, my name is Boo Seungkwan, and I am an idol," I said, feeling a little awkward. I probably sounded like I was auditioning for a reality show.

She glanced up at me for a brief moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, probably wondering if I was joking.

"Okay, can you tell me about some things that have happened in your life recently that have had a significant impact on you?" she asked, her gaze now completely absorbed by the document in front of her as her hands shuffled through the pages with professional precision.

"Well, nothing much really happened recently. I mean, my roommate Jeonghan hyung just started his mandatory military service, so I see him less at work. He still treats me like a baby, though. And the members, they coddle me a lot too. Honestly, it's starting to feel like I'm the group's baby chick, and I'm getting tired of being fed worm snacks."

She finally glanced up, but not before her eyebrow quirked slightly, like I'd just said something mildly entertaining.

"Umm..." I paused, thinking about what else to say when she finally closed the file and looked me in the eye, flashing me a genuine, almost welcoming smile. It felt like the first real human connection I'd had all day.

"So, I've got the gist of your treatment history and story. The next question I want to ask is: How did you feel after the treatment? Do you think it was effective?" She asked, giving me her full attention for the first time.

I thought for a moment, then shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "I mean, I feel better than I did two years ago. So, I guess that's progress. But I'm still waiting for that 'I'm healed and ready to take over the world' moment.

"Can you describe how you felt two years ago?" she asked, scribbling something down on her notepad, still not looking at me.

I tried to explain it in a way that made sense, but really, there was no elegant way to put it. "Imagine trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. That's basically my life. Now picture doing that while someone is constantly yelling, 'Don't drop the swords! You're the funny one! Keep smiling!' And that's... well, that's my reality."

"That sounds... intense. How did you usually cope with all that fire juggling?" she asked, her voice still calm but now laced with curiosity, like she had stumbled upon a weird new species.

"I just did. I don't even know how anymore. It was like, my body was on autopilot. But I guess at one point, I just couldn't take it anymore. If I could, I wouldn't be sitting here right now. I'd be at a beach with a piña colada, living my best life." I sighed dramatically, imagining the beach, even though I had no idea how to make piña coladas.

"Okay, today I want to keep the session light and just have some small talk. I want to assess how much work needs to be done before we start. So, Mr. Seungkwan, can you come in twice a week for your sessions?" she asked, her tone shifting to more serious territory.

"Twice a week?" I blinked, confusion clouding my face. "I mean, my therapy is almost over. I think we can take it slow. Dr. Choi said only two more sessions, and I was getting ready for a victory lap." I scratched my head, not sure why she was suddenly asking me to come more frequently.

"I feel like you still haven't dealt with some hard stuff from your past. I just want to help you recover fully," she said, setting the file aside with a look of determination, like she was about to launch into a motivational speech. "But you're going to need more than two sessions to be labeled as fully recovered."

I exhaled loudly, throwing my head back in mock exasperation. "Okay, doctor, twice a week it is. But I have one condition. I need snacks. And not just any snacks–I'm talking about real, hearty snacks. Like chips. Or donuts. Maybe both. You're gonna have to keep me entertained if I'm coming in more often."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up in amusement. "Sure. You'll get your snacks. But I'll need you to actually talk about your feelings too, alright?"

"Deal. Snacks and feelings. The dream team," I said, grinning. Her laugh made my heart do a little flip, and for a second, I forgot why I'd been nervous to be there in the first place.

With that, we wrapped up the session, and I made my way out of her office.

I met up with Shua hyung who was busy with his phone while waiting for me.

"How was the new doctor?" he asked, raising his gaze from his phone.

I paused, thinking for a moment. "I've been single for way too long," I muttered under my breath.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

A tall man with a solid, well proportioned build, lean but strong, with broad shoulders enters my office.

His brown hair, styled in soft, tousled waves, looks effortlessly perfect, as if he just woke up like this and the universe conspired to make it work.

His face is expressive, shifting effortlessly between laughter and nervous silences, though at this moment, it seems stuck somewhere between the two.

He has round, deep brown eyes that hold an undeniable sincerity, sometimes twinkling with mischief. Right now, they're locked onto me like I'm a rare species he just discovered in the wild.

His nose is slightly rounded, complementing the soft edges of his face. His lips are full and naturally pouty, adding to his expressive nature.

If I weren't currently feeling like an animal being studied under a microscope, I might acknowledge that he's attractive. But all I can focus on is the intense, unwavering gaze he's directing at me.

I give him a gentle smile and gesture for him to sit down.

Nothing.

He doesn't move. Just stands there. Staring.

His eyes stay glued to me, and I briefly wonder if this is a test of dominance, like when you're not supposed to break eye contact with a wild animal.

I clear my throat. "You can sit."

After a painfully long pause, he blinks rapidly, as if rebooting, and finally sits down, still looking somewhat dazed.

Before I can say anything, he blurts out, "You look different, Dr. Choi. Did you, like, do something with your face? You look so young."

I blink at him.

What?

Did he just imply I look like a child? Or did he mistake me for someone else? Was this meant to be a compliment? A joke?

'What a weird man' that's the only thought that came to my head.

I have no idea, so I just stare at him, expression blank, brain buffering. Meanwhile, he starts shifting uncomfortably, clearly realizing he has just said something ridiculous.

"Oh my God, that sounded weird, didn't it? I meant–you're not Dr. Choi, are you? No, obviously not, you're–you're you. But I just–okay, never mind, I'll shut up now." He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

I'm still frozen in place, processing this strange man who entered my office, stared at me like a fascinated owl, and then insulted–or complimented?–my face.

Then, as if deciding that the best way to recover from his disastrous opening is to double down, he adds, "I mean, young is good, right? People love looking young. It's a compliment. I think."

I let out an awkward chuckle, more out of social obligation than actual amusement. "Uh... thanks?"

I have no idea what is happening.

Meanwhile, somewhere in his own version of reality, he's probably convinced this is the moment we fall in love.

I ask him to tell me about himself.

"Okay... um... hello, my name is Boo Seungkwan, and I am an idol." I stare at him, deadpan, as if to ask, 'Is he serious right now?'

He clears his throat. "Uh... yeah. That's it I guess."

That's it... Alright then. This is going to be fun.

With my most professional therapist tone, I ask him more about himself–what's going on in his life, what's weighing on his mind, what keeps him up at night. You know, all the fun questions.

He immediately starts blabbering about his roommate and his members.

He is a man recovering from severe depression, and this is what he chooses to talk about?

I've read his case file–severe depression, burnout, currently in recovery. I pity him. Not in the way you pity a lost puppy in the rain, but in the way you pity someone who keeps walking into a glass door and pretending it didn't happen.

I jot down 'likes to answer in riddles' in my notepad.

Then we move on to the elephant in the room. His past.

I ask how he felt two years ago, and he says, "Like I was juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle on a tightrope."

I blink.

I have a degree in psychiatry, and yet, I have no idea how to respond to that.

I never thought I would hear those words in the same sentence, let alone coming from a fully grown man sitting across from me with a completely straight face.

This man is not one bit serious.

At first, I wonder if it's just because this is our first meeting. But his case file tells me that, no–this is just how he is during therapy.

We really do have a lot of work to do.

I ask how he usually coped with all that fire juggling.

He leans back and shrugs. "I just did. I don't even know how anymore. It was like my body was on autopilot. But I guess at one point, I just couldn't take it anymore. If I could, I wouldn't be sitting here right now. I'd be on a beach with a piña colada, living my best life."

Piña coladas.

PIÑA COLADAS.

Where the hell did piña coladas come from in this conversation?

I stare at him. He stares back.

At this moment, I realize I may be in over my head.

I don't know what else to do, so I decide it's best to end this session and prepare better for the next one.

I explain to him that we still have a long way to go in his recovery. He frowns, confused, like I've just told him the sky isn't actually blue.

"But I am better," he insists, emphasising the am. "I don't feel like that anymore."

I see the exhaustion in his eyes.

His hiatus is over, and he's working non stop again. According to the nurses, his group has a world tour coming up. He's tired of these sessions, tired of feeling like he's making no progress.

But it's short lived. He plasters on a bright smile–the my life is amazing, don't worry about me smile–and starts cracking jokes again.

I chuckle at his antics, but deep down, I feel sorry for him.

Despite the glamorous life shown on TV, in reality, he's just a normal human going through a tough time.

He's just a normal patient. And I can see through this wall of humor he has built around himself.

I collapse into my car, the exhaustion hitting me like a wave. It's not just physical. I feel it deep in my bones, in my mind, in my heart. The endless stream of patients, their problems, my constant need to make everything okay... I can't seem to escape it. I stare at the steering wheel, my hands gripping it tightly, as if holding on to something real, something solid. But everything feels heavy, like it's all piling on top of me, suffocating me little by little. I just want to go home, lock the door, and not think about anyone or anything. But even that sounds too much right now.

I begin driving to my mother's place who lives on the outskirts of Seoul.

My mind keeps drifting back to Seungkwan. I don't know why he's on my mind.

I tell myself it's because he's struggling, and I want to help him.

I can't help but feel protective of him. He's been through so much, and yet he still manages to make me laugh.

I have to admit that man is hot. If only he stopped trying make people laugh all the time and tried to be himself.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

When I step into my mom's house, the familiar scent of her cooking and the warmth of her presence immediately wraps around me, but it doesn't fully lift the weight that's been clinging to me all day. She greets me with a hug, her arms wrapping around me as if she's trying to hold me together, and for a moment, I let myself lean into it, grateful for the comfort. But even as I try to smile, the exhaustion still lingers in my bones.

"How was work today?" she asks, her voice soft but knowing.

I hesitate, swallowing back the tightness in my chest, then quickly offer, "Busy, like always." My hands fumble with my coat, anything to avoid her gaze. She always sees through me, always knows when something's off.

She watches me for a moment, her eyes gentle but full of concern. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

I nod, even though I'm not sure if I believe it myself. "I'm fine," I say too quickly, my voice faltering just slightly. I can feel the words slip out like a lie, but I don't have the energy to explain. Not now. Not here.

She doesn't press me, thankfully, but I can feel her eyes on me, watching, always knowing when I'm hiding something. We move to the kitchen, and I try to focus on the conversation, on the small talk, but her quiet presence makes me feel like she's reading me like an open book. It's comforting, in a way, but also overwhelming. I don't want her to worry about me. She has enough on her plate already.

As I settle into the kitchen, my mom starts chopping vegetables, her movements slow and deliberate. I'm stirring my tea, trying to find some kind of comfort in the routine, when she suddenly pauses, looking over at me with a knowing smile.

"You know," she starts, her tone casual, "I ran into Mrs. Park at the market today."

I raise an eyebrow, sensing where this is going. "Oh?"

She nods, her smile widening. "She mentioned her son is back in town. Very successful young man. I think you two would get along."

I put down my tea, trying not to roll my eyes. "Mom..." I begin, but she cuts me off, not even pretending to care.

"He's on a blind date this weekend. I told Mrs. Park you might be interested. Just a thought. It could be nice, a chance to meet someone new. You're so busy with work, I just think you could use a little... fun."

I blink, trying to process. "You already talked to Mrs. Park about it?" I ask, half laughing, half shaking my head.

"Well, yes, I thought it'd be a good idea," she says, completely unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm. "He's a good match, Sienna. You need someone who understands you."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm not really looking for anyone right now, Mom."

She smiles softly, as if she's heard this before. "I understand, dear. But sometimes, it's nice to let someone else take care of you for a change."

I don't want to argue.

I have never argued with anyone in my life. You can call me pushover if you want but i think i just like the peace of not arguing. Or you can just call me a coward who hates confrontations.

I silently stare at mom who looked at me eyes filled with hope.

I have never talked back to her. I do everything she wants. I guess that's why our relationship feels so distant. I always end up agreeing with whatever she says and have never expressed my own opinion. The lack of deep conversation has brought us to this point.

I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Fine. You can message me the date and time. I'll give this a try," I say, not wanting to talk about my love life any longer.

After dinner, I drive back home, and the first thing I do is collapse onto the sofa. I don't even realize when I drift off to sleep.

Seungkwan's POV

"YAH! 10, 9, 8... You know what happens if I get to 1." Hoshi hyung snaps, his eyes narrowing at me like I just insulted Tiger Power.

"Huh?" I blink at him, completely lost.

He sighs like a disappointed parent, and before I can react, Coups hyung chimes in. "Seungkwan-ah, focus."

Wait.

What just happened? When did we finish our break? When did I get into position? I swear we rested just a few minutes ago.

My body moved on autopilot, and I didn't even notice.

Then, it hits me. I need to go to the bathroom.

"Hoshi hyung," I say, my voice as soft and sweet as possible. I pout, widening my eyes to full puppy mode.

"What?"

"I need to use the washroom."

"We had a break just a few minutes ago!" he exclaims, and I see the moment his patience snaps. He starts cursing me out, throwing his arms in frustration. Without waiting for the inevitable flying kick, I sprint to the bathroom.

Wow. That hamster really transforms into a tiger during practice.

When I return, the members are deep in conversation. But the second I step in, they stop. Some of them glance at me, others pretend like they weren't talking about me at all.

Yeah, I know. They were talking about me.

After practice, I collapse onto the floor, my chest rising and falling like I just ran a marathon.

I feel like passing out.

We're preparing for our 10th anniversary, and the choreography is brutal. It's not as bad as Sonogong, so why am I struggling?

I don't know.

As everyone starts packing up, I brace myself. I know it's coming.

"How was therapy today?" Coups hyung finally asks.

I let out a breath. "Just the usual."

"My new doctor said I need to go twice a week. There are still quite a few sessions left."

A few murmurs echo in the room. An "oh" here, an "ah" there. Then, uncomfortable silence.

We say our goodbyes, and I slide into a taxi, exhausted.

When I step into my apartment, Jeonghan hyung is waiting for me. "Wash up," he says immediately.

I obey. Fifteen minutes later, I return to the living room and find him sitting with a plate of food. The smell of pasta hits me, and my stomach betrays me.

"Let's eat together, Seungkwan-ah."

I hesitate. I have a photoshoot tomorrow, and I was planning to skip dinner, but damn, that pasta looks too good.

"Okay, hyung."

We eat, talking about practice, and then, as expected, he asks about therapy.

"I have a new doctor. Her name is Kang Sienna. It's been a long time since I've been in the presence of a young woman, so my body decided to act like a 14 year old boy."

Jeonghan snorts but doesn't comment. Instead, his voice softens. "What did she say about your... you know?"

I know what he means. But I won't let him dance around it.

"The words you're looking for are recovery from depression. And she said I need to go in twice a week."

He nods, taking that in. We talk some more, our voices getting quieter as the night drags on.

By the time I check the clock, it's 3 a.m. Hyung looks like he's seconds away from passing out. We say goodnight and head to our rooms.

I lie in bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, not really absorbing anything. My thoughts drift back to therapy.

"But I am better."

Those words echo in my mind, over and over again, bouncing off the walls of my consciousness like they're trying to trap me.

Am I, though?

Chapter Text

Four days had passed since Sienna and Seungkwan's first meeting.

This time, Sienna was ready. Fully prepared. She had spent all her free time watching every Going Seventeen episode, interviews, and even some random fan compilations with titles like "Seungkwan being the funniest idol for 12 minutes straight."

Sure, she had only slept a grand total of 16 hours in the last four days. And yes, she may have started hallucinating a little at work–at one point, she thought she saw a tiny Woozi glaring at her from her coffee mug–but she was ready to face her quirky patient.

When Seungkwan entered, she greeted him with a bright, welcoming smile.

"Hello, Mr. Seungkwan. How have you been?"

He looked at her, grinning wide. "It's been amazing."

Sienna narrowed her eyes slightly. Liar. She could tell from his posture, the slight tension in his shoulders, and the too polite way he was speaking. He was putting on a show. He was treating her like a senior–respectful, distant, and slightly rehearsed.

Nope. That wasn't gonna work.

She needed him to trust her, to stop seeing her as some stiff therapist with a clipboard and start treating her like a friend. If he did, she could get him to open up about the things he had been avoiding in therapy.

So, she was switching things up.

"Okay, Mr. Seungkwan. For today's session, I had something else in mind," Sienna said, standing up.

The moment she did, Seungkwan blinked, finally registering just how short she was.

Like, he knew she was short, but seeing her stand next to him made it painfully obvious.

"Wait... are you really this tiny?" he asked, standing up as well.

Sienna rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mr. Seungkwan, I am indeed fun sized. Now, follow me."

They walked out of the counseling room together, heading down the hallway.

"Let's get to know each other. For this to work, we need to build trust. So, we're playing a game of 20 Questions," Sienna announced.

"Ooooh, I like this already," Seungkwan said, perking up. He naturally started walking toward the hospital café, because therapy or not, caffeine was non negotiable.

"I'll go first!" he declared. "Are you a Carat?"

Sienna chuckled, already expecting this. "Well, I don't really have time to listen to music these days, but I was really into K pop back when I was a teenager. I've heard your songs on the radio, but I wouldn't call myself a Carat."

Seungkwan gasped dramatically. "You wound me."

Sienna simply smirked and ordered two coffees–an iced Americano for him, a caramel macchiato for herself.

"Oh, but I am a Cubic," she added.

"I was watching Going Seventeen to research you, and now I'm kind of addicted."

His eyes sparkled with pride. "As you should be. That show is gold."

He sipped his Americano, then casually threw out his next question. "Who's your bias?"

Sienna snorted. "Ey, no cheating. It's my turn now."

Seungkwan pouted. "Fine."

"Who's your best friend in Seventeen?" she asked, taking a sip of her macchiato.

Seungkwan hummed. "I love all of them, but I'd say I'm closest to Jeonghan hyung and Chan. Vernon too, since we're the same age

Sienna nodded, storing the information for later.

"Okay, my turn again," Seungkwan said, tilting his head curiously. "How old are you?"

"Twenty six."

Seungkwan choked on his drink.
"WHAT? SERIOUSLY?!"

Sienna blinked. "Uh... yeah?"

He placed his iced Americano down, staring at her as if she had just told him she was actually a 300 year old vampire. "No way. No way. You look like you just graduated high school!"

Sienna sighed. "I get that a lot."

Seungkwan squinted, scrutinizing her like he was trying to spot a single wrinkle or gray hair. "You're sure you're not secretly 22?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"A little, yes."

Sienna chuckled. "Well, too bad. My turn."

"Why is group so obsessed with being funny?"

Seungkwan paused for a second, then grined before answering with a mix of pride and exasperation.

"Because if we weren't funny, we'd have to rely solely on our visuals, and honestly, that's a lot of pressure."

Then with a more serious tone he added "But really, I think it's because making people laugh makes everything feel a little lighter. We go through a lot, physically and mentally, and humor is how we cope. If we can make each other laugh, or make Carats laugh, then it's worth it."

"Also, some of the members have the brains of middle school boys. There's no saving them at this point." Seungkwan said again switching to his playful nature.

Seungkwan huffed dramatically before tapping his chin thinking about his next queation to Sienna. "Okay... If you had to get a matching tattoo with someone in Seventeen, who would it be and why?"

Sienna thought for a moment. "Probably Mingyu."

Seungkwan frowned. "Why?"

"Because he'd be the most dramatic about it, and I'd get endless entertainment out of his reaction."

Seungkwan burst into laughter. "That is so true. He'd probably scream the whole time and then flex his arm dramatically for weeks."

Sienna grinned. This was going well. He was relaxing, joking, and most importantly–he wasn't performing.

Seungkwan composed himself and leaned forward. "Alright, my turn. Be honest, what was your first impression of me?"

Sienna smirked. "Oh, I knew you were trouble the moment you walked in."

They continued their back and forth, the walls between them slowly coming down, one ridiculous question at a time.

And for the first time in a while, therapy didn't feel like therapy.

It just felt like two people, talking.

By the time they were down to their last questions, Seungkwan and Sienna sat comfortably on a bench in the hospital terrace garden.The sun had set and the cool night air carried the faint scent of flowers, and the city lights flickered in the distance.

Seungkwan shifted beside her, his fingers drumming lightly against his knee. He hesitated before finally asking, "Are you single?"

Sienna blinked. Of all the things she had expected, that was not one of them. Her lips parted slightly in surprise as she turned to him, as if she had misheard.

Seungkwan, now the color of a ripe tomato, immediately panicked. "Ah! I mean–just curious! It's not like–I wasn't–It's not weird, right? To ask?"

She raised an eyebrow, watching him spiral.

"I mean, you probably have a boyfriend already. That is... if you aren't married or something."

A beat of silence.

Seungkwan groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. Forget I asked. Wipe it from your memory. Right now."

Sienna, now fully amused, tilted her head. "Why would you assume I have a boyfriend?"

Seungkwan looked up at her, flustered beyond belief. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then tried again. "I mean... look at you. You're–" He cut himself off, realizing too late where that sentence was heading.

Now it was her turn to blush.

Sienna cleared her throat, trying to maintain composure. "To answer your question, no. I don't have a boyfriend. And I'm definitely not married."

Seungkwan exhaled, nodding quickly. "Ah... okay. Got it." He tried to play it cool, but the way he avoided her gaze completely gave him away.

Deciding not to press the topic further, Sienna glanced at him thoughtfully. It was her turn now. She had been holding onto this question since day one, waiting for the right moment.

She took a breath. "When was the last time someone asked how you were doing and you really meant it when you answered? Are you happy?"

Seungkwan stiffened. His easygoing demeanor faltered.

His gaze dropped to the ground, his fingers now still. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a quiet exhale, he spoke.

"People ask me how I'm doing every day. Managers, staff, even fans. And I answer the same way every time. 'I'm okay.' 'I'm doing well.'" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "I say it so often, I don't even know if I mean it anymore."

Sienna felt something tighten in her chest.

She hesitated for only a second before instinctively reaching out, placing a gentle hand on his back. A silent reassurance.

Seungkwan didn't move away

His voice softened. "And about whether I'm happy or not... Is it okay if I don't answer that?"

Sienna met his gaze, offering a small nod. "Of course."

For the first time in a long time, Seungkwan didn't default to his rehearsed answers. He didn't force a smile. He didn't really answer her question but atleast he didn't lie.

And somehow, that felt like a step forward.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

We walked back to the office in silence. The air felt thick, not with awkwardness but with the weight of my own thoughts. My mind was a storm–flashes of self doubt, exhaustion, and the nagging voice that told me I was just wasting everyone's time. I should have had something witty to say, something lighthearted to break the tension, but I didn't. I was too drained to pretend today.

"Here. My card," she said, holding it out to me. "My number's on there. If you ever feel like talking... call me."

I took it, running my thumb over the embossed letters. Kang Sienna, Psychiatrist. The words felt clinical, detached, but her voice wasn't. There was warmth in it, a sincerity that made me feel... seen.

"Okay," I mumbled, my voice dull, stripped of its usual spark. Normally, I'd make a joke–something about how I'd call just to order takeout or ask her for life advice like an old friend. But today, I had nothing left to give.

I turned to leave, but just as my hand touched the door handle, she called out, "Mr. Seungkwan."

I glanced back. She was still standing there, hands clasped in front of her, that ever polite, professional expression on her face. But her eyes–there was something in them. A softness. A quiet kind of encouragement.

"We made progress today," she said gently. "Don't be disheartened. You'll be feeling better in no time."

That sweet smile of hers was perfectly in place, like she had rehearsed it a hundred times. Like she needed me to believe it, even if I couldn't yet.

I nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement.

"Call me Seungkwan," I said, my voice softer now. "No need to be so formal. We're the same age, after all."

For a second, something flickered in her expression. Surprise? Hesitation? I couldn't tell.

I didn't wait for a response. I stepped out, the business card still clutched between my fingers, as if holding onto it might somehow tether me to the hope she was trying so hard to give me.

The cool night air didn't do much to clear my head.

I leaned against the side of the building, tilting my head back, eyes fluttering shut. The session with Woozi hadn't been bad. If anything, he'd been patient, which I appreciated. But no matter how many takes we did, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was... off.

It wasn't my voice. It wasn't even the song. It was me.

I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth edge of the card. I pulled it out, turning it over in my hand.

Kang Sienna, Psychiatrist.

The letters were small, neat. Professional. But all I could think about was the way she had looked at me earlier–like she actually gave a damn. Like she wasn't just saying the words because it was her job.

I exhaled sharply. I shouldn't be overthinking this. It was just a card.

But before I could stop myself, I pulled out my phone.

I hesitated for a second. Calling felt like too much, too soon. But a text? That felt... safer. Less pressure.

I typed out a message. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that too.

Ugh.

Finally, I just wrote:
Hey. It's me.

I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the send button. Was this stupid? Was she even expecting me to reach out?

I almost backed out. Almost shoved the card back into my pocket and pretended none of this had ever happened.

But then–
Send.

The message disappeared. No turning back now.

I swallowed, suddenly feeling like I'd done something irreversible. But instead of panic, there was something else, something I hadn't felt in a while.

Relief.

Sienna's POV

I was just about to leave when my phone vibrated on my desk.

I frowned, setting my bag down again. No one usually texted me this late–not unless it was my mom, and even she had stopped sending the 'are you eating well?'

I reached for my phone, screen glowing softly in the dim light.

Unknown Number: Hey. It's me.

I blinked. Then again, just to make sure I was reading it right.

There was no name, no context. But I knew.

Seungkwan.

I stared at the message for a long time, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I hadn't expected him to reach out this soon–if at all. Most of my patients didn't. Some took weeks before they even considered texting, and others never did.

But here he was.

I could still see him in my mind. The way he had hesitated before leaving, the quiet exhaustion in his voice when he told me to call him Seungkwan.

I had told him we made progress. Maybe I hadn't been wrong.

I exhaled, letting my fingers move over the keyboard.

Sienna: Hi, Seungkwan. I'm glad you reached out.

I hesitated before adding–
How are you feeling?

I hit send before I could second guess myself.

A moment passed. Then another. My screen stayed quiet.

I sighed, slipping my phone into my bag. Maybe he wouldn't respond. Maybe he just needed to know that he could.

Either way, it was a start.

I glance at my notes on Seungkwan.

Stage One: Acknowledgment

We're almost there. He's finally admitting to himself that he's not fine. That he's exhausted, burned out, stretched so thin he can barely breathe.

It's a quiet victory, one he probably doesn't even recognize as progress. But I do.

A small, tired smile tugs at my lips as I jot down a few more notes. His willingness to open up, even a little, is a step forward. And when you've been drowning for as long as he has, sometimes the hardest thing isn't healing–it's believing you can.

My pen hovers over the paper.

I wonder if anyone notices my own exhaustion the way I notice his.

A knock at my office door makes me flinch.

I look up to see Dr. Yang Jiyeon standing in the doorway, her dark eyes wide with hope.

We started working at the hospital around the same time. We aren't particularly close, but we share an unspoken camaraderie–the kind that forms when you're both young, overworked doctors trying to prove yourselves in an environment that demands perfection. She's bright, energetic, and somehow always seems more put together than me.

"Sienna, can you do me a favor, please?" she asks, clasping her hands together dramatically.

I already know what she's going to say.

I sigh, setting my pen down. "What favor?"

"I have a date tonight, but I'm supposed to take the night shift." She tilts her head, her lips curving into a pout, as if that'll make it harder to refuse. "Do you think you could cover for me? I'll repay you later, I swear."

I should say no.

I want to say no.

My body aches with exhaustion. The thought of pulling an all nighter and then heading straight into an emergency shift tomorrow makes my stomach turn. I've barely been getting four hours of sleep as it is.

But I hesitate.

Saying no has never been my strong suit. The idea of disappointing someone, even over something as small as this, makes my skin prickle with anxiety.

She's still looking at me expectantly, like my answer is already set in stone. Like she knows I won't refuse.

And I don't.

I inhale sharply, gripping my pen a little tighter. "Jiyeon," I say, my voice quieter this time. "Promise me this is the last time."

"Promise!" she says instantly, beaming. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sienna! You're the best!"

Before I can react, she lunges forward and wraps her arms around me in a quick, enthusiastic hug.

I don't hug her back.

I don't even move.

I just sit there, staring blankly at the wall behind her, feeling the weight settle deep into my bones.

Looks like I'm spending the night here.

Chapter Text

"Dr. Kang. Dr. Kang, Sienna!"

The familiar voice cut through the haze of sleep. Sienna jolted upright, heart racing. "What? Do I have a patient? Is it an emergency?" Her breath caught as she quickly scanned the room, panic creeping into her chest.

Nurse Jang, who had worked alongside Sienna for the longest time, stood at the door with a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "Doctor, did you not go home yesterday?"

Sienna blinked, confusion clouding her thoughts. "Huh? What do you mean? I'm still on call." She wiped at her face, trying to shake off the disorienting fog of sleep that clung to her.

Nurse Jang raised an eyebrow, stepping closer with a playful, but knowing, look. "Doctor, you should check the date."

Sienna furrowed her brow, feeling a knot form in her stomach as she grabbed her phone from the desk. She unlocked it, quickly scanning the screen. Missed calls from her mother. Several texts from patients. Her heart skipped as she saw the date: Tuesday.

Her stomach dropped. "What...?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall–8:30 AM. She rubbed her eyes, blinking in disbelief. She had done the night shift on Saturday evening, followed by an emergency on Sunday morning and outpatient appointments in the evening. Then she'd been on call again that night. It was now Tuesday morning.

Her mind scrambled for clarity. She was supposed to leave on Monday morning, but she couldn't even remember when she had fallen asleep. The last thing she recalled was the soft hum of her office clock and the pages of her patient notes blurring in front of her eyes. How had she slept through everything?

As she tried to push herself upright, a wave of soreness hit her like a freight train. Her neck ached, her back stiff from the hard sofa she had inadvertently turned into her bed. She winced as she tried to stretch, the pain reminding her how little care she had taken for her own well being.

Despite the full night of sleep she'd just had, her body felt like it hadn't rested at all. Her eyes burned with exhaustion, a dull, relentless pressure in her temples. She was running on empty.

"You really should go home and rest," Nurse Jang said gently, her smile fading into concern. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."

Sienna nodded absently, her gaze drifting to the phone in her hand, the weight of her responsibility pressing down on her chest. She didn't know how she had let herself go this far. How she had let the work consume her so completely.

With a sigh, she slumped back against the sofa. "I think I lost an entire day..." Her voice was barely a whisper, tinged with frustration.

Nurse Jang chuckled softly. "You need to take care of yourself, Dr. Kang. The patients will be here when you're ready."

"I have appointments at 10..." Sienna groaned, her voice muffled as she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the light filtering into the office.

Her head throbbed with each passing second, her body still heavy from exhaustion.

Nurse Jang wasn't having it. 

"No way am I letting you stay here," she said firmly, her tone soft but unyielding. Without missing a beat, she started gathering Sienna's things–her phone, her medical notes, her bag–into a neat pile. 

"I'm moving all your appointments to 5 PM. You're going home, now."

Sienna barely had the energy to argue, her eyelids fluttering as she tried to process Nurse Jang's words. She opened her mouth to protest but found it too difficult to form a coherent sentence. Her body, still stiff and aching from sleeping on the office sofa, was protesting every move.

"Come on," Nurse Jang urged, gently but with an air of finality, nudging Sienna toward the door. "You're not going to make it through your appointments like this. You need rest."

Sienna allowed herself to be guided, too tired to fight back. The cool air in the hallway hit her, but it only made her feel more disoriented, as if she were floating between sleep and wakefulness. Nurse Jang was already calling for a taxi as Sienna stumbled toward the elevator, her steps slow and unsteady.

Once they reached the lobby, Nurse Jang handed Sienna her coat and briefcase, giving her a gentle nudge toward the door. 

"I'm kicking you out of here," Nurse Jang teased with a wink, though her concern was evident. "Get some sleep, Dr. Kang. No excuses."

Sienna nodded faintly, offering a weak smile. The truth was, she couldn't remember the last time she had truly rested. She stepped outside into the cold air, shivering slightly as she pulled her coat tighter around herself.

Too tired to even consider driving, she muttered a quick thanks and climbed into the waiting taxi. The car ride felt like an eternity, her mind sluggish and foggy, her head resting against the window as the world passed by in a blur. The whir of the engine, the quiet hum of the city around her–everything felt distant. She was slipping further into a dreamlike state, and she didn't care.

When she finally arrived at her apartment, she didn't even bother to take off her shoes. She stumbled straight into the bathroom, turning on the shower with numb fingers. The hot water felt like heaven against her skin, washing away the tension and grime that had built up over the past days. But it wasn't enough to shake the exhaustion.

Afterward, she crawled into bed, the covers feeling like a soft embrace. Her body sank into the mattress, and within moments, sleep claimed her. She didn't fight it. She couldn't. Her mind, her body, all of her energy had been depleted. 

She succumbed to the darkness of sleep, a deep, dreamless rest that she so desperately needed.

Seungkwan sat in the conference room, his gaze fixed on the screen in front of him, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. 

The rest of the members of seventeen were deep in discussion about their upcoming 9th fan meeting, but Seungkwan barely registered the words floating in the air. The flicker of the PowerPoint presentation was nothing more than a blur to him. 

Over the past two days, it had become painfully evident to both him and those around him that his focus was elsewhere. 

His once flawless choreography had been riddled with mistakes, his usual sharp memory for details slipping through his fingers. The jokes he usually cracked to lighten the mood were nowhere to be found, and his trademark smile had been replaced by a hollow expression. 

Though the other members noticed the change, none of them spoke up. They could tell something was off, but they chose to give Seungkwan space–he had always been the bright spark in the group, the one who brought energy to every room, so this silence felt... unnatural. 

After the meeting wrapped up, S.Coups stood up, offering a smile that was almost as weary as Seungkwan felt. "Guys, let's take the rest of the day off. We've worked hard these past few days. How about we enjoy today, just relax for a bit?" 

DK, Mingyu, and Jun immediately erupted in cheers, high fiving each other and already planning their next move. 

The others began discussing how they would make the most of the free time, some tossing out ideas for solo activities, others simply ready to crash in their rooms. 

Guys, what do you think about meeting up at Jeonghan's place?" S.Coups suggested, his voice light. "It's been a while since we all hung out. We could grab some food, have a few drinks, and just talk." 

"That sounds like a good idea," Minghao agreed, nodding thoughtfully. 

"Soju!" DK shouted, a bit too excitedly, causing Vernon to wince at the sudden volume. 

Seungkwan blinked, trying to process the conversation. His brain was moving in slow motion as he pieced the words together. "Wait, wait," he interjected, still confused. "By Jeonghan's place, you mean my apartment, right?" His voice lifted slightly in alarm. "No way! If you guys come over, you'll make a mess and then leave! I can't deal with that today. Throw this party somewhere else." 

The group laughed at his reaction, but Seungkwan couldn't shake the weight that had settled on his chest. Despite the casual banter, there was a part of him that felt utterly disconnected, like he was watching from the outside instead of participating.

Despite his earlier protests, here Seungkwan was–sitting in his own apartment, a half finished drink in his hand, surrounded by his members. 

The warm buzz of conversation filled the room, laughter spilling over the sound of clinking glasses. It was barely 7 p.m., and yet, Hoshi was already drunk, his energy only amplified by the alcohol.

Seungkwan swirled the liquid in his glass, watching as the last remnants of ice had long since melted. He hadn't drunk much. He couldn't. His therapy appointment had been pushed to 8:30 p.m., and he didn't want to show up with clouded judgment.

"Ya! Kwon Soonyoung, go find a girlfriend and stop trying to kiss me!" Seungkwan snapped, shoving Hoshi's face away as the older man giggled, clearly too far gone.

The others erupted in laughter, but Seungkwan could only manage a small smile. It felt forced, almost automatic. His body was here, but his mind was elsewhere.

His thoughts drifted again, zoning out of the conversation entirely. The sounds around him faded into white noise, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in his bones. This wasn't new–it had been happening more frequently lately.

Woozi, ever observant, finally spoke up. "Seungkwan-ah... are you okay?"

The question made Seungkwan tense. His grip on his glass tightened for a brief moment before he let out a slow breath.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Silence settled over the group. Even Hoshi, who was barely clinging to sobriety, seemed to sober up just a little at the weight of Seungkwan's words.

"Seungkwan-ah," Jeonghan said gently. "Ever since you changed therapists, you've been different. We're just worried."

Seungkwan hesitated, staring at the water ring forming beneath his glass. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk, if he even had the energy to explain what he barely understood himself. But when he finally spoke, the words tumbled out before he could stop them.

"I don't know if I'm okay." His voice was quieter than before, but it carried the weight of everything he had been holding in. "My new therapist made me see things in a different light. She says we're making progress, but I don't feel like I am. I feel stuck. It's like I go through the same cycle over and over again, burnout, recovery, burnout again. It never ends. I just feel so... lost."

A heavy silence followed. No one rushed to fill it with empty reassurances. No one told him he was overthinking or that things would magically get better. They just listened.

Finally, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. "You'll break out of it soon, Seungkwan. You'll find your way again."

His words weren't overly poetic, but they carried a quiet certainty that made Seungkwan's chest ache. He wanted to believe him.

For now, he let himself take comfort in the fact that even in the middle of this cycle, even when he felt lost–he wasn't alone.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan walked into Sienna's office, less playful than usual but still wearing that carefully practiced smile. It wasn't as bright as it used to be, something about it felt more like an armor than warmth. 

Sienna greeted him with her usual welcoming smile, but today, something was different. It didn't quite reach her eyes. 

He took his seat, settling into the familiar space, but the first thing he noticed wasn't the comfortable atmosphere or the faint scent of lavender lingering in the room–it was Sienna's poor attempt to cover up the dark circles under her eyes. The concealer barely masked the exhaustion etched into her features. 

"Long week?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. 

Sienna met his gaze, and for the first time, he noticed how much her eyes mirrored his own exhaustion. 

"Is it that obvious?" she asked, trying to sound lighthearted, but her voice lacked its usual energy. 

Seungkwan just nodded. No teasing, no jokes. Just quiet understanding. 

"What about you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "You look just as tired. Tough week for you too, I assume." 

He exhaled through his nose, nodding. "Aren't they all?" A beat passed before he let out a dry chuckle. "You know, it's kind of funny. People keep asking me if I'm 'okay' like I'm made of glass. Like 'Oh, don't say that in front of Seungkwan, he might break.'" His voice was light, almost amused, but his fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, betraying the weight behind his words. 

Sienna watched him carefully. "And how does that make you feel?" 

He groaned, tipping his head back. "God, don't therapist me." 

She raised an eyebrow. "You're in therapy." 

He huffed a laugh, but it faded quickly. His knee bounced, his fingers still gripping his sleeve. "It makes me feel... I don't know. Like I'm not a person anymore. Just this... this thing people have to handle carefully." He looked at her then, and for the first time, there was something raw in his eyes, something unguarded. "I know I should be grateful that they care. But sometimes, I just want to scream at them to stop treating me like I'm still broken." 

Sienna let his words settle between them, allowing the silence to stretch just enough for him to feel heard. Then, she asked quietly, "Are you still broken?" 

Seungkwan blinked. His gaze wavered before he looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter than before. "I don't know." 

Sienna leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe that's something we can figure out together." 

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping just a little. It wasn't everything. But it was something. 

After a pause, he spoke again, his voice a little steadier. "I know something is wrong with me. I want to fix that." 

Sienna's expression softened. "Hey. Nothing is wrong with you," she said, her voice the gentlest he had ever heard it. "You don't need to fix anything. You're just a little lost right now, and I'm here to help guide you." 

She let the words sink in before continuing. "You know, we've already reached the first stage of recovery–acknowledgment. You admitted that you're not feeling okay. You're letting people in. You're speaking up instead of burying it all inside. That's the hardest part, and you've already done it." 

She offered him a small, reassuring smile. "I won't lie to you. The rest of the journey won't be easy. But the destination will be worth it." 

Seungkwan stared at her, his throat tightening. His eyes burned, the familiar sting of unshed tears threatening to spill over. But he didn't let them fall. Not yet.

The rest of the session passed in a blink, the conversation flowing more naturally than ever. For the first time, Seungkwan had let his guard down. Just a little.

As he stood up to leave, he hesitated, adjusting the strap of his bag before glancing at Sienna.

"Dr. Kang, do you have more work right now?" he asked, his tone casual, but there was something uncertain in his voice.

She looked up from her notes. "No, you were my last patient," she replied, stretching her fingers slightly to ease the stiffness of the long day.

There was a pause. Seungkwan shifted on his feet. "Do you... maybe wanna grab a drink?" His voice was laced with hesitation, like he wasn't sure if he should be asking.

Sienna blinked, caught off guard. It had been a long time since she had done anything outside of work and sleep. The idea of going out, even for a single drink, was oddly tempting.

But then came the guilt. Seungkwan was her patient. There were boundaries for a reason. She shouldn't do this.

Before she could find the words to turn him down, Seungkwan spoke again.

"The members are drinking at home, but I don't have the energy to party right now," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I do need a drink. Just... something low key. Would you be up for it?"

Sienna should have said no. She knew she should.

But for a moment, she forgot about the rules, the ethics, the obligations. And it wasn't just because she had trouble saying no. It was because she wanted to.

"...Okay," she found herself saying, surprising even herself.

The warm glow of the bar softened the hard edges of exhaustion clinging to both of them. The low hum of conversation blended with the gentle clinking of glasses, but neither Seungkwan nor Sienna spoke. They simply sat there, wrapped in the kind of silence that wasn't awkward, just... understanding.

Sienna traced the rim of her glass with her finger, her gaze flickering to Seungkwan. He had abandoned his usual loud energy, replaced by something quieter, more introspective. He was staring into his drink, rolling the glass between his hands.

The comfortable silence stretched between them, but Seungkwan's mind was anything but quiet. His fingers tapped idly against his glass, his thoughts looping in circles. The exhaustion that weighed on him felt different tonight–heavier, but also clearer.

He glanced at Sienna, who was swirling her drink absentmindedly. "You ever feel like... if you stop, you won't know who you are anymore?"

Sienna looked up, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"

He let out a breath, shaking his head. "I mean, for as long as I can remember, I've been the guy. The loud one. The funny one. The one who brings energy to the room, who keeps the mood up, who makes people laugh even when I don't feel like laughing." He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It's exhausting, but it's also... me. If I stop, if I let myself just be–then what's left?"

Sienna studied him for a moment, her expression softening. "Seungkwan," she said gently, "your worth isn't tied to how much you do or how much you make others laugh."

He scoffed, looking down at his drink. "That's easy to say. But if I'm not that person, then who am I?"

Sienna leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. "I think you're stuck in a cycle of toxic productivity, believing that your value comes from what you do rather than who you are."

Seungkwan frowned but didn't interrupt.

She continued, her voice calm but firm. "From what I've seen, you've spent so long trying to meet everyone's expectations–your members, your fans, your company–that you've lost sight of the fact that you exist outside of those roles. You're allowed to just be Seungkwan. Not the performer, not the mood maker, not the one who always has to be 'on.' Just you."

He swallowed, his grip tightening around his glass. "And if I don't know who that is?"

"Then it's time to find out." Sienna gave him a small, knowing smile. "That's part of unlearning this mindset. You don't have to prove your worth by being everything to everyone. You're already enough, even when you're not doing anything at all."

Seungkwan stared at her, his chest tightening with emotions he didn't quite know how to name. He had spent years measuring his value by how much he could give, by how much space he could fill. The idea that he could still be enough even when he wasn't performing, wasn't taking care of others, it felt foreign.

"God," he muttered, running a hand down his face. "You make it sound so simple."

Sienna chuckled softly. "It's not. It's one of the hardest things to unlearn. But you don't have to figure it out all at once."

He let out a slow breath, nodding. He didn't have an answer yet. He wasn't sure he knew how to stop defining himself by his energy, his presence, his ability to make others happy.

But maybe, just maybe, he could start trying.

"Thank you Dr Kang for all that you have done for me" Seungkwan said with a genuine smile.

"Call me Sienna" 

Seungkwan just nodded. The silence once again settled between them. Seungkwan still had that smile plastered on his face.

"You know," he said suddenly, voice softer than usual, "I can't remember the last time I just sat like this. No schedule. No people hovering over me. Just... existing." He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "It's kind of nice."

Sienna tilted her head slightly, watching him. "You don't let yourself rest often, do you?"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink before setting it down. "Not really. But I don't think you do either."

She gave him a small, knowing smile. "Touché."

Seungkwan turned his head then, meeting her eyes fully for the first time that night. His gaze was steady, lingering in a way that made Sienna's pulse stutter just a little.

"You look different outside the office," he mused.

Sienna arched an eyebrow. "Different how?"

His lips quirked into a small smirk, but there was something almost shy in the way he looked at her. "Less like my therapist. More like..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. His fingers tapped against his glass before he looked down, almost like he wasn't sure if he should finish the thought.

Sienna felt a warmth bloom in her chest. An unfamiliar feeling when it came to a patient. But right now, sitting across from Seungkwan, he didn't feel like a patient. He felt like a person she understood, someone who understood her.

"More like?" she prompted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flickered back to hers, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. A tension, fragile yet electric.

"More like someone I want to know outside of therapy," he admitted, voice hushed but firm.

Sienna's breath caught for half a second. She should shut this down. She should remind him of the boundaries.

But instead, she looked at him–really looked at him. The vulnerability in his eyes, the exhaustion mirroring her own, the unspoken need for connection.

She didn't pull away when their hands brushed on the table. Didn't move when Seungkwan's fingers, tentative yet deliberate, ghosted over hers.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like someone truly saw them and wanted to stay.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

"Whose got you grinning like that?"

Shua hyung's voice cut through the silence as soon as I stepped into the house. He was leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised with that teasing smirk of his.

Only Shua hyung and Jeonghan were still around; the rest of the members had already scattered for the night.

"No one," I replied, but even I knew my face betrayed me.

A telltale blush crept up my neck and across my cheeks, and I mentally cursed myself for being so obvious.

I tried to avoid further questioning by heading straight to my room, but of course, that plan was doomed from the start. I opened the door to find Soonyoung hyung sprawled across my bed, fast asleep.

"Ah hyung! Why is Kwon Soonyoung sleeping on my bed?" I called out to the two sitting casually in the living room.

"Ey Seungkwan-ah, just let him sleep there for tonight. I'm sleeping with Jeonghan," Shua hyung responded nonchalantly.

I whined, but they both just waved me off. With a dramatic sigh, I went to freshen up in the bathroom, my pout still in place.

After a few minutes of fidgeting with my hair and making sure I didn't look like a mess, I made my way back to the living room.

"So, are you going to tell us who had you blushing like a tomato earlier?" Shua hyung asked with a teasing grin, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"I just went out for a drink with Sienna," I muttered, trying to act nonchalant, though the mention of her name made my heart flutter a bit.

"Sienna?! Oh my god, are you two already on first name terms?" Jeonghan hyung practically screamed, his voice dangerously loud. It was like he'd been waiting for this moment to pounce, and now my eardrums were paying the price.

"Hyung, relax! We're just friends. It's nice to talk to her," I said quickly, holding my hands up in defense.

"I don't think you two are gonna stay friends for much longer," Shua hyung added, his smirk growing even wider as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the teasing.

"You guys are delusional," I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stood up to leave. I was too tired to deal with this banter right now.

Before I could retreat to the safety of my bedroom, I paused at the door and turned back. "Ah, hyung, I think I'm going to cancel some of my schedules that aren't fixed yet. I need to rest and focus on my recovery."

The room fell silent for a moment. Both of them looked up, surprised by my decision. I could see the subtle shift in their expressions. Shua hyung's playful smirk faltering slightly, and Jeonghan hyung blinking at me, processing what I said.

It wasn't like me to back out of anything. I was always the one volunteering for variety shows, jumping into group promotions, and pushing myself to perform, even when I was sick. Refusing schedules? That wasn't in my nature.

They nodded, a quiet understanding passing between us. It was rare for me to take a step back, but this time, I needed to listen to myself.

When I informed the company about my decision to cancel some of my plans, I could practically hear the panic on the other end of the phone. They freaked out, as expected.

"Seungkwan, are you sure about this?" the manager asked, his voice strained with disbelief. "You can't just cancel shows like this. You're scheduled for variety, a fan meet, and–"

"I've made my decision," I cut him off, my tone firm. Sienna's words from the other night echoed in my mind, grounding me. You need to choose yourself. It had been hard to hear, but now, as I repeated it to myself, I understood its truth more than ever.

I wasn't a machine. I couldn't keep going on like this, pretending I was fine when I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I needed to rest, to recover, and to reclaim my own well being.

After a brief silence on the phone, the manager sighed, resigned. "Fine. But you have to understand, this isn't easy. You're a crucial part of the team. We'll have to redistribute your schedules to the other members."

I didn't think too much about it at the time. I hung up the phone, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I had made a decision for me–a decision that wasn't dictated by anyone else's expectations. I smiled, feeling free, almost liberated.

That was, until the next day.

I walked into the practice room, ready to spend the day resting and taking care of myself, only to be met with a somewhat awkward atmosphere.

The other members were buzzing around, preparing for their upcoming schedules, and I could tell something was off. As I made my way to the couch, my eyes caught the schedule sheet pinned to the wall, and my heart dropped.

Every single one of the shows I had canceled? They were all handed off to the other members.

At first, it didn't register. Maybe they were just picking up a few things for me, right? I frowned and checked the times listed. Variety show at 2 PM, fan meeting at 5 PM, recording for a reality show later that night. All of them were on the other members' names.

Jihoon hyung caught my glance, his expression unreadable. "You good, Seungkwan?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I stood there, staring at the list in front of me. Guilt hit me hard. Was this what I had wanted? To burden the others? Was I being selfish?

The guilt gnawed at me as I sank down onto the couch, feeling the weight of my own decision crash over me.

I had told myself I needed rest, but seeing the others take on my responsibilities made me question everything. I had always been the one to step up, to take on more, to push myself. So why did it feel so wrong now that I was asking for a break?

Shua hyung walked over, sensing my change in mood. "Seungkwan-ah," he said quietly, sitting beside me, "you know we all have each other's backs, right?"

I nodded, but the guilt still lingered. I wasn't just letting myself down–I was letting the team down. I had made a choice to stop the endless cycle of pushing through, but now, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being selfish, putting more of a burden on my brothers. The fear that I wasn't strong enough to keep going was replaced with the fear that I wasn't strong enough to stop.

As the day wore on, I couldn't shake the thought. Maybe I had made the wrong decision. Maybe I should've just kept going, like I always had. Maybe I wasn't allowed to choose myself.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze, unsure of what to do next. Sienna's words kept coming back to me, but now, they didn't sound as empowering. They sounded like an impossible standard.

Maybe I wasn't as strong as I thought I was. Maybe I didn't deserve a break.

In the end, I was left wondering–Was this what choosing myself really looked like?

Or had I just made things harder for everyone else?

I hesitate for a moment before dialing Sienna's number, my thumb hovering over the screen. It rings, and I wait, chewing on my lip, but there's no answer.

Should I call again? Maybe she's busy. Or sleeping. Or just doesn't want to pick up.

Before I can decide, my phone buzzes in my hand.

She's calling back.

I clear my throat before answering. "Hey."

"Hey, Seungkwan," she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

I feel a pang of guilt. "Oh... did I wake you up? Sorry."

"It's okay," she sighs, the sound of rustling sheets faint in the background. "I'm up now. What's up?"

I hesitate again, shifting my phone from one hand to the other. "Uh... do you think we could meet for a session today?" My voice comes out uncertain, like I'm already bracing for a no.

There's a pause. Not the usual kind, where someone is just thinking of what to say, but the kind that stretches long enough to make my chest feel tight.

Then she exhales, quiet but decisive. "Sure. Just text me when and where."

Relief seeps into my bones, though I try not to let it show in my voice. "Okay. Thanks, Sienna."

I don't say it, but I'm already thinking about what to wear...about making sure I don't look as tired as I feel.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

I stare at the clock on my bedroom wall. The white LED numbers glare back at me. 2:17 p.m.

I had gone to bed seventeen hours ago.

Why does it feel like two?

Why do I feel habitually tired these days? My body is heavy, my mind sluggish, as if I've been running a marathon in my sleep. It's been like this for weeks, waking up just as exhausted as I was before going to bed.

Am I taking on too much work? More than I can handle?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sudden vibration of my phone on my nightstand. I blink down at the screen.

Mom

I hesitate before answering, already dreading whatever conversation is about to unfold.

"Sooyeon-ah, are you free today at 4 p.m. for lunch with that guy I told you about?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, stifling a groan. Another blind date. My mom has been relentless lately, trying to set me up with eligible bachelors as if my love life is a project she needs to manage.

Still, I don't have the energy to argue.
"Yeah, I'm free," I mumble, already regretting my words.

"Great! I'm reserving a table for you both at Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul," she says cheerfully before promptly hanging up.

I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the screen in disbelief. That place is on the other end of the city.

Tilting my head back against my pillow, I let out a long, slow exhale. I feel like screaming. Why did I agree to this?

As if on cue, my phone vibrates again. A new message.

Seungkwan: Can you come to the HYBE building at 5:30? I have practice, so I won't be able to spare much time.

I blink at the message, my mind immediately pulling up a mental map of Seoul.

Sienna: Sure.

I tap open Naver Maps, my heart sinking as the blue route line populates the screen.

Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul is in the heart of Gangnam. HYBE is much closer to my apartment, all the way in Yongsan.

I groan. That means I'll have to rush. The drive alone will take at least thirty minutes, maybe more if there's traffic. Cutting it too close.

I rush to the bathroom to wash my hair and get dressed.

I threw on the black blazer–it always makes me look more put together than I feel. The pleated skirt is structured enough to seem professional but not too stiff, and the belt pulls everything together, making it look like I actually tried. Layering the knit top over the collared shirt felt like a nice touch, a little bit of effort without overthinking it. The gold details, on the belt and my necklace, are subtle, but they make me feel a little more polished.

It's a safe outfit. Clean, presentable, nothing that would make anyone look twice. Just the way I like it.

I glance at the clock. 3:15. I should leave now if I don't want to be late.

The drive to the venue is brutal. Traffic is a nightmare, and it feels like I'm crawling along the road, my car barely inching forward. My mind starts to race as the minutes slip away, and I can already tell I'm going to be cutting it close.

By the time I pull into the parking lot, it's nearly 3:50. I practically sprint to the table, where I see a man sitting, already looking up as I approach. He stands to greet me, his handshake firm but not overbearing.

"I'm Lee Ha Joon," he introduces himself with a polite smile.

We sit and talk for about an hour. Here's the impression I get–

He's too perfect. The kind of man who looks like he stepped straight out of a magazine–tall, with broad shoulders and a sharp jawline that could cut glass. His neatly styled hair gives off the impression of effortlessness, but I'm sure it took just the right amount of time to get it that way.

His crisp button up shirt is rolled up at the sleeves just enough to show off toned forearms, and his tailored slacks and polished shoes scream refinement. Everything about him is intentional. His posture, his carefully measured words, his controlled smile. Safe. Predictable.

His smile is charming in that textbook way. Smooth voice, well placed compliments, and a confidence that feels so natural it almost seems rehearsed. There's nothing wrong with him at all. In fact, he's exactly the kind of man I should be interested in–successful, attractive, well spoken. A lawyer, just as busy as I am, with a future that's already set.

But for some reason, I don't feel any spark.

No electricity.

It's almost like we're both playing roles in some kind of well scripted scenario. He checks all the boxes, but something's missing.

I glance at my phone. 5:10. Panic creeps in. There's no way I'll get to Hybe on time.

"Sorry, Ha Joon," I begin, standing up quickly. "I have an appointment right now. Is it okay if we continue this later?" I offer an apologetic look.

"No worries, I understand," he says with a reassuring smile. "I have clients waiting as well. I'm heading out too."

Relieved, I practically run to my car, trying to push aside the nagging feeling that this date was somehow... empty.

By the time I reach Hybe, it's already 5:50. I'm 20 minutes late. I quickly head to the cafeteria, where Seungkwan told me to meet him.

The familiar buzz of voices and clinking silverware fills the air as I scan the room.

After a quick search, I spot him in a quiet corner, sitting alone with his phone in hand, oblivious to the world around him.

His hair was slightly disheveled from the intense dancing and movement, the strands falling messily over his forehead in a way that adds to his allure. His skin glows faintly from the sweat, giving him this natural, effortless radiance that pulls me in. There's a flush on his cheeks, a little from exertion.

He's dressed simply, but the way he wears it...he just pulls it off. His loose graphic tee clings just enough to his shoulders, showing off the faintest hint of his physique. Black joggers hang comfortably off his hips, and his fresh sneakers give off a vibe that says "effortless style," like he doesn't need to try to look this good. And somehow, even with all the exhaustion in his posture, he still looks... hot.

I slapped myself mentally, my hand instinctively reaching up to rub my temples in frustration. I did not just think that. I did not just call him hot, of all things. I did not just find my patient–someone I am supposed to be helping–attractive. That was completely unprofessional, and I knew it. My heart rate quickened slightly as I tried to shake the thought away, telling myself that my role was to be supportive, not... anything else. I can not afford to let my personal feelings get tangled up in this.

Seungkwan's POV

The silhouette of a woman catches my eye. I glance up to see Sienna a few feet away rubbing her temples.

When pays attention to how she was dressed I forgets to breathe for a second.

There's nothing overly flashy about what she's wearing. it's just Sienna, simple and effortlessly put together. But somehow, that makes it even worse. Or better.

The black blazer gives her an air of quiet confidence, like she's in control, but the soft knit top layered over the crisp shirt adds something gentler, something almost delicate. The pleated skirt moves with her, sharp yet graceful, and the belt cinches at her waist just right, making my thoughts scramble. The small gold details catch the light, subtle but intentional, like her.

She doesn't even realize, does she? How stunning she looks without trying. How the mix of elegance and restraint, of composure and something just slightly undone, makes it impossible to look away.

I swallow, heart stuttering, and wonders how I'm supposed to act normal when she looks like that.

Sienna take the seat opposite to me,"Hey" she says.

"You look so different" i say before i could stop myself.

"Is it good different or bad different?" She askes chuckling at my reaction.

She wouldn't have dressed up just to see me would she?

"Did go somewhere else. You look so good."

"I had a blind date" she says in a tired tone.

"Oh" I say slightly disappointed that she didn't dress up to see me.

"How was it?" I ask curiosity getting the better of me

"It was ok. He is nice man but I am not really feeling it." She says "why did you call me? I know it wasn't because you wanted to ask about my date."

Suddenly I remembered everything that had happened that day. I lower my head not meeting her gaze.

"So, how have you been holding up?" she asks, her voice calm and steady, like she's already preparing for whatever I'm about to say.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I've been... alright. I guess," I mumble, unsure of how to explain it without sounding like I'm complaining. "But I don't know, Sienna. It's like... I've been trying to pull myself together, but every time I think I'm doing okay, it just feels like I'm failing."

She leans forward slightly, her expression softening. "In what way?"

I look away for a moment, focusing on my half empty cup of coffee. "I don't know. I guess... I feel like I'm burdening the other guys. I thought I should take some rest so I canceled some schedules but these schedules were handed over to them because I refused. They are busy too. They've always been so supportive, but lately, I feel like I'm just... dragging them down. I'm supposed to be their strength, you know? But all I do is show them how weak I am."

Sienna's gaze never wavers, and for a second, I almost wish she wouldn't be so patient with me. Her calmness makes me feel even more exposed. "Seungkwan, you're not a burden. You're human, just like the rest of them."

I shake my head. "But they're so much stronger than I am right now. I know they care about me, but it feels like... I don't want to keep asking them for help. They've done enough. And I don't want them to think I'm fragile. I don't want to be that person."

She pauses, her voice softer now. "It's okay to need people. And it's okay to lean on them sometimes. It doesn't make you weak."

I bite my lip, considering her words. "I want to be better for them. I want to be able to give more than I take."

Sienna nods, her eyes thoughtful. "You will be. It's just going to take time. And sometimes, the only way to get better is to stop focusing on being perfect and just... focus on healing."

I let out a slow breath, the weight of her words sinking in. "I don't know if I even remember what healing feels like."

"That's normal," she replies gently. "But you'll start finding it again. It's slow, but it's happening. You're rediscovering the things that make you happy, not because you have to, but because you want to. Like singing–not because you're on stage or because it's expected–but just because it feels good to sing again. Or spending time with your friends, not because you feel obligated to entertain them, but because you enjoy being with them."

"The joy you're looking for, the peace, it'll come back, little by little."she says, her voice quiet, almost as if she's speaking from experience.

I take in a deep breath, nodding slowly, though I'm not sure I fully believe her yet. "Maybe... maybe you're right. I just needed a reminder."

She reaches across the table, her hand resting gently on mine. "It's okay. You don't have to figure it all out today. Just... take it one step at a time, okay?"

She pulls her hand back from where it had rested on mine, and I immediately feel the warmth leaving.

There's a subtle shift in the air, and I catch myself missing the simple connection.

"You've reached stage two of recovery," she says, her voice returning to its professional tone. "Learning to rest and rebuild. Setting boundaries at work. That's good. You're making progress."

Her tone shifts to that technical therapist language, and I can't help but feel a bit of distance between us, reminding me of my place in all of this. She's here to help, and I'm just a patient. I push aside the warmth that I had started to feel, swallowing down the thoughts that have been creeping into my mind.

I had started to feel something for Sienna. Something I couldn't quite explain. It was subtle at first, like a flicker of warmth in my chest, but it was growing, taking root in ways I didn't know how to handle. But no matter how strong it felt, I knew this was never meant to happen. Our relationship could never be anything more than that of a doctor and a patient. She was here to help me heal, to guide me through the darkness, and I was grateful for that. But I couldn't let myself forget the boundaries between us. Those boundaries were necessary for both of us.

I shook my head, trying to push the feelings away, reminding myself that this was a professional relationship, and nothing else could come of it.

"Now we move on to step three," she continues, "When's your next day off?"

"Next week, Friday" I reply, slightly confused by her sudden change of focus.

She leans forward again, her eyes sparkling with something that's both serious and playful. "Okay, then. Don't make any plans for that day. We're going out and having some fun. All day long."

I blink at her, unsure if she's serious or joking. "Wait, what?"

She just smiles, her tone confident, but there's a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You've been working too hard, Seungkwan. You need a break. And next week, you're going to take one with me on Friday.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

Friday came by quicker than I expected, and here I was, standing in front of the Hybe building, waiting for Sienna.

Jeonghan and I shared a car. We used to drive to practice together, but since Jeonghan's workplace was farther now, I had let him use the car for the time being.

Today, I wanted to take the car, but Sienna wouldn't allow it.

The past few days had been a blur of rehearsals and preparations for the comeback, but I'd felt this shift in me ever since that conversation with Sienna last week. I could focus better, the weight of everything a little lighter now. I was sleeping well, finding time to rest, and for the first time in a while, I could feel myself slowly coming back to life.

The guys noticed it too. I was different. Lighter, more at ease. I wasn't faking laughter anymore; I genuinely felt happy. And I could finally enjoy making people laugh without it feeling like a performance. I was starting to enjoy life again. Something I thought I'd lost for good.

I was excited about today. I didn't know exactly what we were doing, but I could feel the anticipation buzzing in the air.

Sienna had kept it a secret, just sending me a list of things to bring. An extra set of clothes, a hoodie, a towel, and–curiously–an extra pair of socks. She'd told me to dress comfortably and wear shoes that I didn't mind getting dirty. I had some guesses, but I couldn't be sure.

Then, a black Volvo pulled up in front of me, breaking my train of thought. The driver's side door swung open, and there she was. Sienna, stepping out from the driver's seat.

My heart gave an unexpected jolt.

When I see her, it's like the world just... pauses. She's standing there, in that periwinkle blue cardigan, and I swear, it's like the color was made for her. The way the delicate knit catches the light, it's soft, almost dreamy. The cardigan falls just above her waist, and the little tie at the front makes her look so effortlessly cute, like she doesn't have to try at all to look perfect. But it's more than just the cardigan. It's the way she carries it, like it's the most natural thing in the world to look that good.

And those white pants. God, they're so crisp and clean, almost blinding against the soft lavender of the cardigan. There's something about how they fit her, how they give off this elegant vibe, yet somehow she still looks so relaxed, so comfortable. It's like she's this perfect balance of casual and polished, and I don't know how she manages it. She makes it look so easy, like she was born to wear this.

The whole thing just works together. Like a perfect blend of softness and elegance. I can't take my eyes off her. She moves with this effortless grace, and for a second, it feels like time slows down when I watch her walk. She's just... stunning, in this quiet way that takes my breath away without even trying.

"You look beautiful," I say, my tone sincere, as if the words are too small to capture what I'm feeling.

She smiles, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world slows down. "Thank you," she replies softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carries so much warmth.

"So, where are we headed?" I ask, trying my best to sound casual, though I'm sure my eyes linger on her just a little too long.

"Jumunjin Beach," she replies, her smile bright enough to make everything around us seem a little more colorful.

The drive there is smooth, the air warm and the windows down just enough to let the breeze in. I can't help myself. I practically beg her to let me drive, throwing an exaggerated little tantrum until she finally hands over the keys. We chat about everything, from my family to her childhood, and it feels so easy, like we've known each other forever. It's the kind of conversation that makes time feel like it's slowing down, and I find myself completely caught up in the rhythm of it all.

Suddenly, her phone buzzes, interrupting the flow.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz.

She glances down at the screen, and without hesitation, answers, "Hey, Dad," in English. I try to focus on the road, but her voice catches my attention, and I can't help but overhear the fragments of her conversation. I'm not eavesdropping, I tell myself. I just... happen to hear.

"Really... happy... wedding... okay, bye," she says softly, her tone warm, the kind of voice that you only use with family.

"Dad?" I ask, using the same english, more out of curiosity than anything else.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips as she tucks the phone back into her bag. The way she said it, with that quiet affection, lingers in my chest longer than I expect.

"My dad is getting remarried," she says, her voice soft but full of warmth. "He invited me to his wedding. I'm so happy for him and Susan." Her smile, genuine and bright, makes me want to hold onto the moment a little longer.

I can't help but ask, even though I already know the answer, "Is your dad Korean?"

"No, he's American," she replies easily. "I'm Korean-American, but I have citizenship here in Korea. I moved here when I was eighteen, but I was born and raised in San Francisco."

I nod, intrigued by how her life has shaped her. "Oh. Your Korean is pretty good for someone who didn't grow up here."

She chuckles, the sound light and effortless, like it's nothing, but there's a depth to it that makes me appreciate her even more. "Thanks," she says with a playful grin. "I've had a lot of practice."

I find myself admiring her even more–not just for how she speaks, but for the way she blends both parts of herself so seemlessly.

The moment we step onto the sand at Jumunjin Beach, I can't help but feel like the world has softened around us. The waves are gently crashing against the shore, and there's this light, salty breeze in the air that feels like a breath of fresh life. It's not a date, of course. Just a hangout. But I find myself smiling, more relaxed than I've been in a while.

We walk along the water, the tide washing up around our ankles, and I can hear her laugh, soft and genuine, and it makes my heart flutter a little. Her laughter always has that effect on me, like it's the most comforting sound, like I'm finally breathing without realizing I've been holding my breath.

We enjoy a nice picnic on the beach. She points out something in the distance, her eyes lighting up, and I find myself hanging on every word she says, every gesture she makes. We're talking about nothing in particular, but it feels like everything at the same time. There's no rush, no expectations. Just us, here, in this peaceful moment.

We were seated on the picnic mat, the warmth of the sun wrapping around us, the salty breeze tugging at Sienna's hair. She was mid bite into a strawberry when I suddenly grabbed her hand.

"Seungkwan–!" she squealed, but I was already pulling her up, dragging her toward the ocean.

The moment the cold water splashes against our skin, Sienna shrieks, her laughter ringing through the air like music.

I chase after her, the waves crashing around our legs as she tries to escape, but I don't let her. My fingers wrap around her wrist, and with a playful tug, I pull her back toward me.

"Seungkwan! Stop, please!" she gasps between giggles, her breath hitching as she stumbles against my chest.

My hands instinctively settle on her waist, holding her steady. Time slows. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over her damp skin. Strands of her wet hair stick to her cheeks, and without thinking, I reach up, brushing them away. She freezes at my touch.

Her eyes meet mine–dark, shimmering, unreadable. My thumb lingers against her jaw, tracing the delicate line of her face. The playful tension shifts into something heavier, something neither of us were prepared for.

Her breath fans against my lips, warm and teasing, and suddenly, the sound of the waves fades into the background. My grip on her waist tightens just slightly, like I'm afraid she'll slip away. She doesn't move. Neither do I.

Her lashes flutter, and I swear, for a split second, she tilts her chin up, closing the distance between us. My pulse hammers. My fingers twitch against her skin.

But then, just as quickly, she blinks and lets out a small, breathless laugh, breaking the spell.

"We should–" Her voice is shaky, uncertain.

I clear my throat, taking a step back even though every part of me wants to stay close. "Yeah," I say, forcing a grin, "before you start crying about losing to me in a water fight."

She shoves me lightly, but there's still something lingering in the space between us. Something unspoken, something dangerous. Something I know neither of us are ready for.

The car ride back is quiet, except for the soft hum of the radio and the occasional whoosh of passing streetlights. Sienna is in the passenger seat, her head tilted against the window, eyes half lidded with exhaustion. She looks peaceful, like the night has drained her in the best way possible.

I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, stealing quick glances at her when I think she won't notice. The golden glow of the dashboard casts soft shadows on her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.

Something about the silence feels different. Heavier.

I should be thinking about how tired I am, how I can't wait to shower and crawl into bed. Instead, all I can think about is her.

The way she laughed earlier, free and unguarded. The way her fingers had lingered before she pulled away. The way her breath hitched when I caught her in the water, how, for one perfect second, she didn't run.

I swallow, gripping the wheel harder.

The memory plays in my head like a scene from a movie. The way she looked at me. Like I was someone she wanted to keep close. Like I was important.

My fingers twitch.

I want to reach for her.

The thought is so sudden, so startling, that I blink, my heartbeat thudding loud in my ears.

I glance at her again. She's still looking out the window, completely unaware of the hurricane she's just unleashed inside me.

And then, it hits me.

Like a punch to the gut. Like a realization I should have had long ago.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

I'm in love with her.

The thought makes my breath catch, my grip on the wheel faltering for just a second. I barely manage to keep the car steady.

I don't know when it happened. Maybe it was the first time she smiled at me, or the first time she looked at me like I was more than just someone to take care of. Maybe it was tonight, when I almost kissed her.

All I know is that there's no denying it anymore.

I'm gone. Completely, hopelessly, irreversibly gone for her.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

I had been looking forward to this all week. In order for me to have one free day I had to work overtime clearing all my work for Friday beforehand.

Work had been suffocating, and the thought of spending a day away from it all–with Seungkwan–had been the only thing keeping me sane. But now that I was actually here, watching him laugh beside me as we set up our picnic, I was beginning to think this was a mistake.

Not because I wasn't enjoying myself. That was the problem. I was enjoying this too much.

Standing there with the ocean behind him, Seungkwan looked effortlessly at peace, like he belonged in the quiet lull of the waves. His white oversized t shirt, printed with bold blue letters, hung loosely over his frame, the fabric shifting ever so slightly with the sea breeze. It made him look even softer, like he wasn't trying to be anything but comfortable. His beige shorts matched the relaxed vibe, casual and simple, yet somehow still intentional. The black crossbody bag slung over his shoulder added a touch of practicality, but more than that, it suited him. The way he always carried something with him, as if prepared for whatever might come next. The whole look was easy, unfussy, yet it had this undeniable charm. Maybe it was just him.

The sun hung high, casting a warm glow over the sand as we sat cross legged on the mat. The ocean stretched endlessly before us, waves rolling in with a steady rhythm, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe. Seungkwan had insisted on helping me unpack the food, and now he was dramatically gasping over the homemade sandwiches like I'd just presented him with a five star meal.

"You made these?" he asked, eyes wide with exaggerated awe.

I rolled my eyes. "It's just a sandwich, Seungkwan."

"No, no, this is art," he declared, holding up a triangle cut piece as if it were a priceless relic. "Do you see this? The perfect bread to filling ratio. The symmetry. The precision."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Are you done?"

"Not until I write an essay about it," he said, finally taking a bite. His eyes fluttered shut dramatically before he let out a satisfied sigh. "I take it back. This is not just a sandwich. This is love in edible form."

I laughed, and it was the kind of laughter that felt effortless, the kind that left my chest light and warm.

The afternoon passed like that, soft conversations, teasing remarks, and laughter carried away by the ocean breeze. We sat close, shoulders brushing every now and then, and I ignored the way my skin tingled at the contact.

Then, suddenly, he grabbed my hand.

"Seungkwan–!" I barely had time to protest before he was pulling me up, his grip firm but playful. "What are you–"

"Ocean. Now."

I didn't have time to argue. He was already dragging me toward the water, his laughter echoing through the air as I stumbled after him. The moment my feet touched the freezing waves, I shrieked.

"Seungkwan, it's cold!"

"Exactly!" He grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best way to wake up, don't you think?"

I shot him a glare, but before I could plot my revenge, he lunged, sending a splash of seawater straight at me. I gasped, stepping back.

"You did not just–"

Another splash.

"Oh, it's on."

I retaliated, sending a wave of water his way, and just like that, we were at war. Laughter mixed with the sound of crashing waves as we chased each other through the tide, the world narrowing down to just us, just this moment.

Then, before I could escape, his fingers curled around my wrist, tugging me back.

And suddenly, I was against him. His wet shirt, now see through, clung to his torso making his physique very much visible.

My breath hitched. His hands had found my waist, steadying me, and just like that, everything else fell away. The wind, the waves, the laughter. All of it faded into silence.

I looked up at him, and he was already watching me. His gaze, usually filled with warmth and amusement, was different now. Darker. Searching.

My heart pounded.

His thumb brushed against my cheek, pushing a damp strand of hair away, and I froze. The touch was barely there, light and fleeting, but it sent something electric down my spine. I swallowed hard.

His fingers curled just slightly against my waist. His breath was warm against my skin, his face impossibly close. If I moved... just a little...

No.

I blinked, the spell breaking, and forced a shaky laugh.

"We should–" I started, but my voice barely worked.

"Yeah," he said quickly, taking a step back even though the weight of his hands still lingered on my skin. His grin returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Before you start crying about losing to me in a water fight."

I shoved him lightly, forcing my own smile, pretending my heart wasn't still racing. Pretending I hadn't just come dangerously close to something I wasn't ready to name.

We found a small place to change into dry clothes, the warmth of the indoor lights a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

Now, as I walk toward the car, Seungkwan trailing just behind me, I hear a quiet snicker.

"Don't you feel cold? You're gonna catch a cold," he teases, his tone light but laced with that familiar concern.

I hug my arms closer to my chest. "I forgot my jacket. But it's okay, the car is warm," I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You told me to bring a hoodie but forgot your own," he mutters, amused.

Before I can come up with a retort, I feel a brush of warmth against my shoulders. Soft fabric and the faintest scent of laundry detergent and something unmistakably him. I glance back, only to see him draping his jacket over me, his expression firm yet gentle.

My heartbeat fastens.

"Here. Wear this," he says, his voice quieter now, but there's no room for argument. "And don't even think about fighting me on this."

By the time we were back in the car, the exhaustion had settled in, but my mind wouldn't stop replaying what had happened.

The way he looked at me.

The way I almost let him close the distance.

The way I almost let myself want it.

I closed my eyes, tilting my head against the window.

This couldn't happen.

Not just because of him–because of me. Because of my job, my responsibilities, the lines I couldn't afford to blur. Because falling for him would mean stepping into something I couldn't control, something I wasn't sure I could handle.

If I ignored it, it would go away. It had to.

I exhaled slowly.

Distance. That was the answer. I just had to put a little space between us.
Ignore it long enough, and it would disappear.

At least, that's what I told myself.

We pulled up infront of Seungkwan's apartment complex.

Seungkwan leans against the car, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looks at me with that unreadable expression-the one that makes it hard to tell if he's joking or being completely serious.

"I'm glad," he says, voice softer than before. "I like spending time with you... maybe a little too much."

His words hang in the air between us, and my fingers tighten around my keys.

I let out a small laugh, trying to keep things light. "Well, I'm sure you say that to all your friends."

His smile flickers, just for a second. "Yeah... maybe."

I step back, putting some space between us. "Anyway, get some rest. You've got a busy week ahead."

"Right," he says, pushing off the car. "Take care, Sienna."

I nod, turning toward the driver's seat before I can second guess the way my chest tightens.

Suddenly, a voice calls out to us, breaking the quiet of the night.

I glance back to find two men approaching. One taller than Seungkwan, the other just a little shorter. They jog over with easy familiarity, both dressed casually but effortlessly stylish. Even in the dim streetlight, I recognize them immediately.

Seventeen members.

They come to a stop in front of us, slightly out of breath but grinning. The shorter one speaks first. "Hello, you must be Sienna."

I return their polite bow, my brain quickly piecing together their faces with their names. "Dino and Vernon, right?"

Vernon nods with a small smile, hands stuffed in his pockets. Dino, on the other hand, is more animated. "Call me Chan! Seungkwan talks about you a lot," he says with a teasing lilt, glancing at his friend.

Seungkwan lets out an exasperated sigh. "Chan–"

"But anyway," Dino continues, undeterred, "we're grabbing a drink with Jeonghan hyung. You should join us!"

I hesitate, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "I shouldn't. I have to drive back."

"Don't worry about that," Dino says breezily, already reaching for my wrist to gently steer me toward the entrance. "Seungkwan will drop you off later."

I shoot Seungkwan a look, hoping he'll back me up, but he only scratches the back of his head, eyes darting away as if suddenly fascinated by the pavement.

"Chan, really, I–"

"Come on, just for a little while!" Dino insists, his grin widening. "You can't say no to Jeonghan hyung. He'll be heartbroken."

I sigh, realizing I've already lost this battle. Seungkwan finally meets my eyes, and there's something unreadable there. Something that makes my stomach twist.

"Fine," I mumble, more to get them to stop insisting than anything else.

Dino cheers as Vernon chuckles, and before I know it, I'm being ushered inside.

As soon as I step into the apartment, I spot him.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan sits comfortably on the couch, his short black hair neatly framing his face. There's an effortless warmth to him, a quiet kind of charm that feels both inviting and familiar. When he looks up at me, his smile is gentle but knowing, like he's already figured me out in a single glance.

"So this is Sienna," he says, his tone light and pleasant. "I've heard a lot about you."

There's nothing overwhelming about his presence, yet something about him puts me at ease. Like he has a way of making people feel welcome without even trying.

I chat with the guys and they ask me like a million questions. Me and vernon share battle stories of being half korean. Sometimes they would make jokes which suggest somethings about me and seungkwan.

Seungkwan was very quite throughout the entire thing. I would catch him stealing silent glances at me.

I take out phone to show some photos from today that's when i notice my phone's dead. I didn't even realise when it ran out of battery.

I ask seungkwan for charger.

Seungkwan disappears to room at the end of corridor. Dino and vernon head to the kitchen to grab some more snacks leaving leaving me alone with jeonghan.

"You know," he starts, his voice softer than before, "Seungkwan's been better lately."

I pause, glancing up at him. "Yeah?"

He nods, a small, genuine smile forming. "Yeah. And I know a lot of that is because of you."

I shake my head, setting my glass down. "I don't think I did anything special."

Jeonghan chuckles, but there's something wistful in the way he exhales. "You might not see it, but we do. Seungkwan... he's been through a lot. And no matter how much we love him, sometimes he just needs someone outside of all this to remind him he's more than just an idol. More than his struggles."

I swallow, not sure how to respond.

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly. "So, thank you... for being there for him. Even if you don't think it's much, it means a lot."

I let out a small breath, my chest tightening just a little. "He's been there for me too."

Jeonghan studies me for a moment, then nods, as if he understands more than I'm saying. "Good," he says simply. "That's how it should be."

Seungkwan appears with a charger, setting it beside me with a small smile.

"Thanks," I murmur, plugging my phone in. As soon as it powers on, the screen floods with notifications. My heart stutters.

20 missed calls.

Twelve from Nurse Jang. Four from the ER nurse. Two from the Head of Emergency Medicine. Two from Jiyeon.

My fingers go cold. My breath catches in my throat. The room around me fades into the background as a sinking dread spreads through my chest.

Something is wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

Chapter Text

"Seungkwan-ah," Sienna called out, her voice trembling.

Seungkwan froze. He had never heard her sound like this. So small, so vulnerable. His stomach twisted.

"Can you drive me to the hospital? I need to get there now."

There was no hesitation. "Let’s go," he said, already reaching for his keys.

The drive was a blur of streetlights and honking horns as Seungkwan sped through the city. His hands tightened around the wheel every time he glanced at Sienna. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her breath shallow, fingers digging into her thighs. She wasn't crying, but she looked like she could shatter at any moment.

As soon as he pulled up to the hospital entrance, Sienna flung the door open and ran. She didn't even say thank you. That's what scared him most.

She sprinted through the sliding glass doors, barely noticing the cold sterility of the hospital air. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she pushed past nurses, patients, and visitors.

She knew something was wrong.

Sienna burst into the emergency department, breathless. The usually chaotic space fell eerily still. Every pair of eyes snapped toward her. Nurses, doctors, paramedics.

Nurse Jang rushed over first. "Dr. Kang–"

Before she could finish, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"DR. KANG SIENNA!"

Sienna's head snapped up.

Dr. Lee, the head of emergency medicine, stood across the room. His face was like stone, his sharp eyes burning with something between anger and urgency.

Sienna's pulse roared in her ears.

"Dr. Lee? What's going on? I got twenty missed calls from the hospital–"

"My office. NOW." His tone was low, controlled. But Sienna could hear the barely restrained fury beneath it.

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

Something was very, very wrong.

Dr. Lee's voice was eerily quiet at first, but Sienna could feel the rage radiating from him like heat from a wildfire.

"What kind of doctor are you?" he sneered.

Then, his voice exploded.

"You were on call! So tell me, Kang Sienna, where the hell were you when a schizophrenic patient tore through the ER like a rabid dog? When he shattered equipment, nearly broke a nurse's arm, and–oh, this is my favorite part–when he jammed a dirty needle into a nurse's thigh?! Where. The. Hell. Were. You?!"

Sienna felt her breath catch in her throat. "I–"

"You what?" he snapped, stepping closer. "You forgot? You overslept? You were out getting your nails done? Because that's what you women do, right? Spend your time gossiping, taking selfies, and flirting your way out of responsibility?"

Sienna's face burned. "I wasn't on call–"

A cruel laugh ripped from his throat. "Oh, you weren't?" His fingers dug into a stack of papers before he flung them at her. The pages scattered around the office, some hitting her in the chest before falling to the floor. "Then why the hell does the roster say otherwise?"

Sienna's eyes darted down. Her name. There. Clear as day.

Kang Sienna - On Call.

Her stomach twisted. "I didn't–someone must have–"

"Someone must have what?!" Dr. Lee slammed his hand against the desk, making the pens and files jump. "Stop making excuses! You're supposed to be a doctor, not some brat who whines when things don't go her way!"

He stepped closer, towering over her. His hand twitched in the air, and for a split second, Sienna thought he was going to hit her.

She didn't move. But she felt the threat, heavy like a blade hovering over her skin.

Dr. Lee exhaled sharply and lowered his hand. "Pathetic." He scoffed, shaking his head. "You know, Dr. Jiyeon would never pull something like this. You should take notes from her. She knows how to respect her superiors. She knows how to be grateful for her job. She doesn't go running off like some reckless little girl who can't handle the pressure."

Sienna clenched her fists. "I wasn't–"

"You weren't what?" he cut her off. "You weren't aware? What? Do I need to hold your hand and remind you of your responsibilities? Is this what happens when we give women important positions? You want equal treatment, but the moment things go south, you play the victim?"

Sienna's nails dug into her palms.

"You don't deserve this job," he spat. "You should be grateful I don't suspend your damn license on the spot. But I'm feeling generous."

He stepped back, smirking coldly. "Since you love vanishing when things get hard, let's fix that. From now on, every psychiatric emergency that comes through this ER? It's yours."

Sienna's breath hitched.

"I don't care if it's two in the afternoon or two in the goddamn morning... if there's a psych patient, you handle it. If a nurse gets assaulted again, it's on you. If another patient loses control, it's your mess to clean up. No more days off. No more excuses. No more running away."

His lips curled into a sneer. "Maybe this way, you'll finally earn your place here."

Then, with pure disgust in his voice, he snapped, "Now get out. Before I change my mind and have you fired instead."

Sienna's body felt cold. Numb. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, forced her feet to move, and turned toward the door.

She was trapped. Indefinitely.

Sienna barely made it out of Dr. Lee's office before her legs felt like they would give out. Her hands trembled at her sides, her breath uneven.

Nurse Jang was already rushing toward her.

"Dr. Kang, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Sienna blinked rapidly, forcing back the burning sensation behind her eyes. She would not cry here. Not in front of anyone. Not after that.

"Nurse Jang... I wasn't on call," Sienna whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the bustling hallway. Her lips trembled, her throat tight as she struggled to keep herself together.

Nurse Jang's expression darkened. "I know you wouldn't do something like this. I don't know how your name ended up on that roster... I was the one who cleared your schedule myself."

Sienna's chest tightened.

Then there was only one explanation.

She turned sharply on her heel and marched through the hospital corridors, her pulse roaring in her ears. The fluorescent lights above felt blinding, and the steady hum of conversations and beeping monitors faded into white noise.

She needed to find Jiyeon.

Her search didn't take long. Jiyeon stood by the vending machine, casually scrolling through her phone as if she hadn't just thrown Sienna under the bus.

Sienna stopped a few feet away, her voice strained but firm. "Dr. Yang Jiyeon, weren't you supposed to be on call today?"

Jiyeon barely spared her a glance before scoffing and turning her back to her, pressing the button on the vending machine like Sienna wasn't even there.

Sienna's patience snapped. She grabbed Jiyeon's wrist, forcing her to face her. "Did you put my name on the roster?"

Jiyeon yanked her arm free, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. "And what if I did?" she said, her tone dripping with indifference. "Not like you have any proof. All you had to do was pick up the goddamn phone."

Sienna's breath hitched. "Why?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Do you have no conscience?"

Jiyeon let out a sharp laugh, her eyes flashing with anger. "Conscience? Don't you dare talk to me about conscience, Sienna."

She took a step closer, venom lacing every word. "You ruined my first anniversary with my boyfriend. Do you get that? Today is our anniversary, and I was on call. What was I supposed to do? Just let it happen?"

Sienna's stomach twisted. "So you put my name down instead?"

Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "I checked your schedule. You were free the whole day. It's not like you had anything important going on. So yeah, I put your name down instead of mine. I mean, friends do that much for each other, right?"

Sienna could only stare at her in disbelief.

"All you had to do was check your phone," Jiyeon spat. "But no, you just had to disappear, and I had to come in because of you. And now, after ruining my anniversary, you have the audacity to come here and confront me?"

Jiyeon's voice rose, her anger boiling over. "You selfish bitch."

The words hit Sienna like a slap.
She froze, her breath hitching as the world seemed to tilt.

Jiyeon–her friend, her only real friend in this hospital–was looking at her like she was nothing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Jiyeon scoffed, brushing past her like she was nothing more than an obstacle in her way.

Sienna just stood there, her body frozen in place, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.

She had never felt more alone in her life.

Sienna stepped out of the hospital, the cold night air hitting her skin like a slap. She didn't flinch. She just kept walking.

Her head was pounding, her throat tight. Every part of her screamed to just let go. To cry, to scream, to do something. But she didn't. She kept her back straight, her expression blank, her footsteps steady.

She just needed to get out of here.

"Sienna!"

A voice called out, but it sounded distant, muffled like she was underwater. The world around her felt blurred, the sounds, the lights, the people. It was all just noise.

It wasn't until Seungkwan ran right in front of her, blocking her way, that she finally registered his presence.

She blinked. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice flat, drained of all energy. "Did you wait for me?"

Seungkwan's eyes searched her face, his brows drawn together in worry. He saw the slight redness around her eyes, the way she clenched her jaw, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly at her sides.

He knew those signs.

He had lived those signs.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but urgent.

Sienna forced out a weak laugh, the sound hollow. "I'm fine. Go home, Seungkwan. I'll take a taxi."

She tried to step around him, but he moved with her, blocking her path again.

"Stop it."

His voice was firmer this time.

"Stop pretending you're fine."

Sienna stilled.

Seungkwan exhaled sharply, his gaze never leaving hers. "You don't have to do this, Sienna. You don't have to hold it in. It's okay to cry."

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

"You think I don't see it?" Seungkwan continued, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "The way you keep swallowing it all down, the way you act like if you just keep moving, it won't hurt? You're not fooling me."

Sienna's fingers curled into fists.

"I know what it's like to push everything down until you can't breathe anymore," he murmured. "To act like you're okay so no one worries. But Sienna... you don't have to do that with me."

Her chest ached.

She opened her mouth, maybe to deny it, maybe to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

Instead, her vision blurred.

Her breath hitched.

And then–

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

Seungkwan saw it. He didn't say anything. He just stepped forward and, without hesitation, pulled her into his arms.

He felt her stiffen at first, like she wanted to resist. But then, as if something inside her finally cracked, her hands gripped the back of his jacket, and her shoulders shook.

Seungkwan didn't let go.

He just held her.

Because he knew what it was like to pretend to be strong when all you wanted to do was fall apart.

Slowly, Sienna pulled back, her eyes rednrimmed and glossy. Their faces were so close now, the breath between them warm in the cold night air.

"You always do this," she whispered.

Seungkwan furrowed his brows. "Do what?"

"Make it hard to pretend I'm okay."

A sad smile ghosted his lips. "Good. You shouldn't have to pretend with me."

Sienna's gaze flickered between his eyes, searching for something. Maybe permission, maybe reassurance.

And then–

She closed the gap between them.

Seungkwan froze. His breath caught, his eyes widening in shock as her lips pressed against his.

For a split second, he didn't move. He hadn't expected this... hadn't thought that after everything, this would be the moment she kissed him.

But then, slowly, he melted into it.

His hands, which had been hovering awkwardly, found their place. One resting lightly on her waist, the other hesitantly cradling the side of her face. The kiss was soft, unsure, a quiet exchange of warmth in the freezing night.

It lasted only a second, but when they pulled away, the air between them was different. Charged. Fragile.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

We kissed.

WE KISSED.

I feel like I might actually pass out from how hot it suddenly got. My face is burning, my ears are on fire, and my heart is racing so fast I swear it might burst out of my chest.

She looks at me. Her expression unreadable, like she’s still processing what just happened.

"Can you drive me home?"

That’s what she says. After that. After we kissed.

I’m freaking out over here, my whole world just tilted on its axis, and the first thing out of her mouth is Can you drive me home?

I nod, unable to make a single sound, still dazed from the way her lips felt against mine.

The drive is silent. Dead silent. The only sounds are the low hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain hitting the windshield. I don’t mind. I’m too busy replaying the kiss in my head, over and over. Every detail is seared into my brain. The way she hesitated for half a second before leaning in, the warmth of her lips, the way she fit so perfectly against me.

I want to say something. Ask her what it meant. If we’re something now. If she felt what I felt.

But Sienna just stares out the window, arms crossed, her fingers tapping against her arm. Her brows are slightly furrowed, but her face is calm, almost too calm. Like she’s somewhere else entirely.

I don’t notice.

Because all I can think about is us. What happens next. What this means for us.

The rain comes down in thick sheets as I pull up in front of Sienna’s apartment building. It’s been pouring the entire drive, heavy and relentless, drumming against the windshield, drowning out the silence between us.

I glance at her. She hasn’t moved, still staring out the window, her fingers tapping absently against her arm. She doesn’t even seem to notice we’ve stopped.

“Sienna,” I say, voice barely above the rain.

She blinks, like she’s waking up from a trance, then turns to me. Her eyes flicker with something unreadable before she reaches for the door handle.

But she hesitates.

And then, just as I start to think she might say something else–something I want to hear–she speaks.

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”

The air leaves my lungs.

For a second, I don’t understand. Or maybe I just don’t want to.

“What?” My voice comes out breathless.

She grips the handle tighter but doesn’t move. “This was a mistake.”

I stare at her, my mind scrambling to make sense of her words. Just minutes ago, I was still reeling from our kiss, from the warmth of her lips, from the way she fit against me.

Now, she’s calling it a mistake?

“Sienna,” I start, but she’s already pushing the door open and stepping out into the rain.

I don’t even think. I just move.

The second I step outside, the downpour slams against me, soaking through my clothes in an instant. It’s cold, heavy, but I barely notice.

“Sienna, wait–”

She’s already walking toward her building, arms wrapped around herself, head ducked like she’s trying to disappear.

I catch up to her in three strides, grabbing her wrist. “Talk to me.”

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

I step in front of her, breathing hard, rain dripping from my hair into my eyes. “You can’t just say that and walk away.”

She finally looks up at me, rain trailing down her face. Her lips part, but for a moment, nothing comes out.

Then, softly, she says, “I crossed a line.”

I frown. “What?”

Her shoulders rise and fall with a shaky breath. “I should’ve set better boundaries.” She swallows, blinking against the rain. “I’m your psychiatrist, Seungkwan. You’re my patient.”

I freeze.

She’s never said it like that before. Never put it into words so bluntly.

“You’re not my psychiatrist all the time,” I argue, my voice rough. “We’re more than that.”

Her expression wavers. Just for a second. But then she shakes her head.

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” she says. “You came to me for help. For support. And I–” she breaks off, looking away. “I let things get too personal. That’s not okay.”

I feel something crack inside me.

“Sienna,” I say, stepping closer, rain soaking through every layer of me. “You’re acting like this was one sided. Like I didn’t... like I haven’t wanted this for months.”

She exhales shakily, wrapping her arms around herself. “That’s exactly the problem, Seungkwan.”

I shake my head. “No, the problem is that you’re pushing me away because you’re scared.”

She flinches, but doesn’t deny it.

I reach for her hand, but she pulls away first. “I can’t let this happen,” she says, voice firm despite the slight tremble. “Not just for me. For you too. You trust me, and I took advantage of that. I should’ve drawn a line sooner.”

I shake my head, heart pounding. “That’s not what happened. You’re not being fair... to yourself or to me.”

She presses her lips together, looking torn.

For a second, I think she might change her mind.

“Sienna, please.” My voice cracks, barely louder than the rain pounding around us. My vision blurs not just from the downpour, but from the burning in my eyes.

“I beg you,” I whisper, my chest tightening. “Please don’t do this to me.”

The words come out raw, aching. My breath stutters, my throat tight. Rain drips down my face, sliding past my cheeks, but I don’t know if it’s just the rain anymore.

She stands there, unmoving, arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. Like she’s trying not to break, too.

But she won’t look at me.

Her fingers clench into the sleeves of her soaked sweater, shoulders stiff. The rain clings to her skin, to her hair, to the shape of her, but she won’t meet my eyes.

She won’t give me anything.

Not even the chance to fight for this.

Then, barely above a whisper, she says, “I’m sorry.”

And before I can stop her, she turns and walks inside.

Leaving me standing in the rain, cold, soaked, and completely wrecked.

I sit there in the driver’s seat, completely soaked, the engine humming low beneath me. The weight of the rain outside feels like it’s pressing down on me, but it’s nothing compared to the emptiness inside. I’m not crying anymore. No tears. Just... shock. My body is numb, like it can’t keep up with my mind.

Where the fuck did it all go wrong?

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache, but it doesn’t help. I start the engine, the sound of it somehow louder than the storm outside. I shouldn’t be driving. My head is spinning, my mind clouded with confusion, anger, and a desperation I can’t even name. But in that moment, all I want is to be home.

I punch in the passcode to my door, the familiar beep feeling distant. When it clicks open, I stumble in, not even bothering to take off my soaked shoes. I just stand there, staring at nothing.

From the other room, I hear Jeonghan hyung’s voice, soft and welcoming as always.

“You’re back.”

I don’t move.

His voice shifts, more concerned now. “Seungkwan?”

I stand there in the doorway, silent, still. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there, but everything feels like it's on a loop. Rain, confusion, pain. My body is frozen, but inside, it’s all unraveling.

Jeonghan hyung comes out of his room, his face morphing into shock when he sees me.

“Ya, Seungkwan-ah, what happened?” His voice is urgent, laced with worry. “Why are you wet?”

I sniffle, unable to control the trembling that takes over me. All the tears I held back during the drive come rushing out in a flood. I can’t stop them. They pour down my face, hot and desperate, like they’ve been building up for far too long.

I’m shaking, my breath coming in broken gasps. I feel his hands, strong and warm, wrapping around me, pulling me in as he rushes to grab a towel.

“Come here.”

I let him, unable to do anything else, as he wraps the towel around my shoulders, gently guiding me to the sofa.

But before we even get there, my legs give out. I crumble to the ground, my body folding in on itself as the sobs hit me with a force I can't control. They come fast and loud, tearing out of me in jagged, painful bursts.

Jeonghan hyung is there, kneeling beside me, his arms around me before I even realize it. His embrace is tight, steady, as he pulls me against him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask any more questions. He just holds me.

And in that moment, I finally let myself break completely.

My chest aches, every sob feeling like it’s pulling me further apart. I’m shaking, gasping for air through the tears that won’t stop, but Jeonghan hyung doesn’t let go. He just holds me tighter, his hand moving up and down my back, trying to calm me, trying to make me feel something other than the weight of everything crashing down.

I clutch the towel like it’s the only thing keeping me together. My hands are trembling, my fingers gripping the fabric for dear life, but it doesn’t help. I can feel myself falling apart, piece by piece.

There’s no words. Nothing that could make sense of this. I just need to cry. Just need to feel something–anything–that isn’t this emptiness.

"Hyung, I fucked up" were the the only words i could manage.

Chapter Text

"Why is this part so hard? It's literally just a turn–okay, focus." Seungkwan muttered, frustration lacing his tone as he repeated the choreography for what felt like the hundredth time. 

His newly dyed blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, damp with sweat, while his oversized shirt clung uncomfortably to his back. His breathing was uneven, and his legs ached, but he refused to stop. The practice room, once filled with his members' voices and laughter, was now eerily silent... just the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional squeak of his sneakers against the wooden floor keeping him company. 

"Everyone's gonna nail this part except me," he grumbled, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long sip. The cold water did little to cool down the frustration bubbling inside him. 

A quick glance at the clock made his stomach drop. 3:16 AM. 

The others had left hours ago, retreating to their dorms for much needed rest. But Seungkwan stayed behind, pushing himself past exhaustion, not because he was behind in practice. But because he needed the distraction. 

It had been two weeks since he last spoke to Sienna. 

The first week was pure misery. He moped, sulked, and sent enough texts to fill an entire novel. All read, none answered. 

The second week, he threw himself into work like a man possessed. If his phone wasn't going to buzz with a reply, then neither was his brain. If he could drown out his thoughts with non stop practice, maybe... just maybe... he could ignore the empty feeling in his chest. 

His members noticed the sudden shift. 

The man who once complained about practicing past midnight was now rehearsing until sunrise. They were impressed at first. Until they saw him nearly break his back trying to perfect a single body wave. 

Seungkwan had fallen back into old habits. 

The concerned "Are you okay?" questions started rolling in, but Seungkwan was a professional at dodging those. A joke here, a bright smile there. Mask secured, damage hidden. 

He's had bad breakups before, but this? This was different. Usually, it took a week–cry on day one, sleep on day two, binge eat fried chicken on day three, and then move on. Simple. 

But this time, he spent three nights crying, a week begging for a response, and two weeks running on nothing but caffeine and sheer willpower. Even fried chicken–the holy grail of comfort food–had lost its appeal. His appetite was almost non existent. 

He started suffering from insomnia. His mind refused to shut up long enough to let him rest, so he worked himself into exhaustion, hoping that one day, his body would just give up and grant him sleep. 

At 4:30 AM, it finally did. Seungkwan collapsed onto the practice room floor, arms spread out like a crime scene outline, too tired to even drag himself to the couch. 

Five hours later, Hoshi found him, nudging him awake with his foot. 

"Ya, get up. We have practice." 

Seungkwan groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "Just leave me here. Tell Carats I died doing what I loved." 

"Tragically passing away on the cold, hard floor of a Pledis practice room?" 

"Exactly." 

Unfortunately, Hoshi had no sympathy, yanking him up and dragging his half conscious body to morning practice. 

Seungkwan had lost a lot of weight, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. Exhaustion clung to him, yet he stubbornly refused to rest. 

Now, running on less than five hours of sleep and the emotional stability of a Jenga tower, Seungkwan was back at it. Dancing like his life depended on it. 

Which, of course, caught the attention of S.Coups. 

"Ya, Boo Seungkwan, take it easy. We don't want a sprained ankle or something before our comeback," he said, voice firm with leader authority. 

Seungkwan paused mid move, flipping his hair dramatically despite it sticking to his forehead. He placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening in faux offense. 

"Excuse me, Choi Seungcheol, but my ankles are as strong as my vocals. Flawless, stable, and carrying this team." 

Then, without missing a beat, he side eyed S.Coups' cap covered head and added, "Unlike your hairline under that hat." 

The room fell silent. 

S.Coups blinked once. Twice. Then–

"YA! You son of a–come here!" 

If it weren't for Mingyu physically restraining him, Carats might have woken up to a "Hello, this is Pledis Entertainment..." statement regarding their leader being arrested for attempted murder. 

Meanwhile, Seungkwan, grinning despite the chaos.

After practice, the members of Seventeen gathered in the locker room, buzzing with excitement about their upcoming Going Seventeen shoot. 

The episode would be filmed on the outskirts of Seoul, in a house they'd rented specifically for the occasion. The place was an old style Korean hanok, tucked away in a serene area that would allow them to focus without distractions.

"We're going to play some crazy game between hide and seek, Mafia, and debate night," Joshua explained, his voice dripping with anticipation. "Sounds like chaos, right?"

Seungkwan blinked, still a little confused. He wasn't exactly the best at complicated games. "So, we're supposed to hide? Or debate? What are the rules?"

The others laughed, knowing his usual approach to games was to be the funny one rather than the strategist. "You don't need to understand the rules, Seungkwan," Woozi teased. "Just do what you do best... make everyone laugh."

Seungkwan nodded eagerly. He may not have understood the rules, but he was a master at making people laugh, and that was his role in everything. Whether it was a game, a practice, or just hanging out with the guys. He could be the outrageous one, throwing in ridiculous comments or wild facial expressions to keep everyone entertained.

He was best at it but did he enjoy it? A question even Seungkwan himself couldn't answer.

"Dr. Sienna, what happened to you? You look like you just endured a hurricane," a lady in her late 40s said, her voice thick with concern.

Sienna's exhaustion was evident. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes dull, dark circles under them as if she hadn't slept in days. She had been working nonstop, squeezing in only three to four hours of sleep a night for the past two weeks. Her nights had been spent crying, each tear a mix of physical and emotional exhaustion, her heart breaking a little more each time she thought of Seungkwan.

She couldn't bear to see him cry, yet it was necessary to put distance between them. 

Every time she tried to sleep, his last words echoed in her mind, the weight of them pressing against her chest. 

The first week had been the hardest. His messages flooded her phone, each one more heartfelt than the last. She read them all, tears streaming down her face as she did. She cried until there were no tears left. Until it felt like the weight of his pain was crushing her.

By the second week, she was too exhausted to give those thoughts any attention. She was too tired to care that his presence lingered in her mind, and she forced herself to push it aside. She couldn't afford to break down again. Not for him. Not for anyone.

It felt as though she was being punished for something she hadn't even done. Her phone buzzed constantly, calls and messages coming in at all hours, the world demanding more from her than she could possibly give. It was as if everything was working against her.

Then, Dr. Choi returned. The older woman was a kind soul, and when she saw the state Sienna was in, her heart went out to the poor girl. "You need a break," Dr. Choi said, her voice soft with understanding. "Go home. Take care of yourself."

Sienna, exhausted and on the edge of a breakdown, was finally granted the weekend and Monday off. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to breathe, even if only for a few days.

Then the phone rang.

Sienna glanced at the caller ID.

Mom.

She hesitated for a moment before answering, her finger hovering over the screen. "Hello?"

"Sooyeon-ah, would you like to come over today?" her mom asked, her voice full of cheer, as though nothing in the world was amiss.

Sienna's shoulders slumped as the exhaustion weighed down on her. "I got the weekend off after a long time, Mom. I just want to rest."

"You can rest here," her mom countered, the persistence in her voice making it clear she wasn't giving up easily.

Sienna couldn't argue anymore. She was too tired, too worn out from the constant demands on her. "Okay, Mom," she sighed, surrendering to her mother's persistence.

She couldn't even think about driving with the aching muscles and the fatigue that plagued her body. So, she called a taxi instead.

When she arrived at her mom's place, the first thing she did was dive into the bed, not bothering to even change out of her clothes. Her body hit the soft mattress, and within moments, she was unconscious.

She woke up to the soft glow of the evening light creeping through the blinds. The sun had already set. Disoriented, she stretched, feeling the aches in her limbs from days of overwork. Her stomach growled in protest.

"You slept for quite some time," her mom remarked, walking into the kitchen, her voice gentle with surprise.

Sienna yawned, still groggy. "I know, but four hours isn't enough," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"Four hours?" her mom's voice rose in disbelief. "Today's Saturday! You've been asleep for twenty eight hours, Sooyeon-ah. Are you okay?"

Sienna blinked, struggling to process what her mother said. "Twenty eight hours?" Even she couldn't believe how long she'd been out. She hadn't felt that tired in ages. "I... I guess I really needed it," she mumbled.

After eating, she got a call. It was from her dad. She took the call while her mother watched from the kitchen, an unreadable expression on her face.

When the conversation ended, she looked at her mom. "Dad and Susan are getting married next December," she said "he had told me before but the date got finalized today."

"Oh, is that so?" her mom replied, a faint tone of disinterest in her voice. "Are you going?"

"Yeah, I will book the tickets today." Sienna smiled, feeling a little lighter with the thought of getting away for the wedding.

Before her mom could respond, a loud, jarring noise broke the comfortable atmosphere.

Bam! Swoosh! Boom!

Sienna jolted, her hands instinctively going to her ears. "What is that?" she asked, wincing at the sound.

Her mom sighed. "Some people rented the house next door. They've been making noise since this evening."

Sienna hadn't noticed the disturbance while she was sleeping, but now that she was awake, the noise grated on her nerves. She wasn't going to tolerate it anymore.

With a determined stride, she marched out the door and headed next door. She rang the doorbell, her patience thin.

The door swung open, and a voice shouted, "Your turn to be it, Mingyu!"

As soon as the person saw Sienna standing there, their face twisted into an expression that mirrored Sienna's own–shock and horror.

"Sienna?"

"S–Seungkwan?" Sienna stammered, her mind racing as she tried to process the situation.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan shut the door just as quickly as he had opened it. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Am I hallucinating? Have I finally gone mad?"

A few seconds later, he cracked the door open again, just enough to peek outside. His heart pounded as he searched for proof that she had been there–that Sienna had really been standing in front of him.

But there was no one.

Only the faintest trace of her perfume lingered in the air, like a ghost of her presence.

Sienna sprinted back home, barely managing to close the door before her legs gave out. She slid to the floor, heart racing.

She couldn't face him. She couldn't answer him. She couldn't break his heart more than she already had.

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and stood up, heading straight to her bedroom.

"All I have to do is stay indoors," she muttered aloud, as if saying it would make it true. As if avoiding him would somehow fix everything.

A few hours passed. The noise from the neighborhood quieted, leaving only the occasional rustling of the wind. Finally feeling like she could breathe again, Sienna slipped out into the backyard, laptop in hand.

The cool night air was a relief against her heated skin.

She settled onto a lounge chair, pulling up a flight booking site. She searched for tickets to San Francisco, the glow of the screen illuminating her face.

A soft melody played in her earbuds, and she hummed along absently, letting the music calm her frayed nerves.

A familiar presence approached, and she instinctively reached up to remove an earbud. Her mother sat beside her without a word, watching as Sienna continued searching.

Seungkwan, meanwhile, was having his own crisis.

He didn't know what possessed him to hide in a bush, but here he was–crouched low, a briefcase pressed to his chest.

The large shrub separating his house from the neighboring backyard provided enough cover to keep him hidden. He could only hope his members had lost interest in searching for him, or else he'd be dragged back and forced to give the ending ment of today's episode in a Snow White costume.

He sat still, focusing on his breathing, listening to the faint hum of a song from the neighboring house.

The voice was soft but clear, hitting the notes with a quiet sadness that tugged at something inside him.

Then, voices.

He stiffened, knowing full well he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but he couldn't move. If he did, he'd be caught.

So, he stayed, listening.

To his horror he recognised one of the voices as Sienna.

Sienna's mother finally broke the silence.

"You're really going, huh?"

Sienna's fingers paused over the keyboard. Her heart clenched, but she forced herself to glance at her mother. "...Yeah."

Her mother exhaled slowly, as if she had been holding her breath. "I was hoping you'd change your mind."

Sienna frowned, the weight of exhaustion settling over her. "Why would I? It's Dad's wedding."

Her mother's lips pressed together, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she finally sighed. "I don't think you should go."

Sienna blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Her mother reached for her hand, voice soft yet insistent.

"Sooyeon-ah, spend time with me instead. Your dad has his own family now, but I only have you. Let's go somewhere together–just us. We can book a cruise, go to Jeju, even Europe if you want. We'll make new memories."

Sienna's jaw tensed.

"No. Mom, I want to go to Dad's wedding."

Her mother's expression wavered for a second before she composed herself.

"Sooyeon-ah, he left us. He has another family now," she pressed, her tone gentle but firm.

That was the last straw.

Sienna's fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her dad had been the closest person to her before Seungkwan. He was her safe place. And now, after years of being apart, she was finally going to see him again.

And yet, her mother was asking her to give that up–again.

The past two weeks of emotional stress cracked something inside her.

"No, Mom," Sienna's voice wavered, but the anger burned through it. "He left YOU. Not me. Not us. YOU. He left you."

Her mother flinched.

Sienna's voice rose, the years of buried emotions rushing out like a dam breaking. "He didn't even cheat on you. He left because he couldn't take it anymore. Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't remember all the fights, all the screaming? You made it impossible for him to stay!"

Hot tears streamed down her face, but she didn't care.

Her mother's lips trembled, but she squared her shoulders. "Fine, Sooyeon-ah. If that's what you want to believe, fine. But don't go. Do it for me."

Sienna sucked in a sharp breath.

"How can you go to your father's wedding with another woman? Do it for me."

Her body shook now, her vision blurring from the fury coursing through her veins.

"Do it for you?" Sienna let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Mom, I do everything for you."

Her voice cracked as the words spilled out, years of resentment bubbling to the surface.

"I moved to Korea because you asked me to. I left everything behind because you asked me to. I left Dad. Do you know how sad he was? Do you know how many times he asked me to visit?"

Her voice broke, the pain suffocating her.

"Every single time I made plans to see him, you found some excuse. You made me feel guilty. You made me choose. And I always chose you. And now–" She let out a ragged breath. "Now you want me to throw away the one chance I have to see him again? This is the first time i have expressed something i wanted. How can you ask me that?"

Her mother reached out, but Sienna jerked back, the hurt raw in her eyes.

"Sooyeo-"

"My fucking name isn't Sooyeon." Sienna's voice was ice and fire all at once. "It's Sienna. Don't fucking call me Sooyeon."

And with that, she ran.

She didn't know where she was going, but she ran. Barefoot, tears blinding her, the cold night air biting at her skin.

She just needed to get away.

Once she had stopped running, the weight of exhaustion hit her all at once. The air around her felt thin, her lungs tightening as though bound by an invisible force. She couldn't breathe. A sharp dizziness swept over her, and she stumbled, hands gripping her knees as she gasped for air.

Panic clawed at her chest. Every inhale was too shallow, too quick–never enough.

A warm hand pressed gently onto her shoulder. She flinched at the unexpected touch, her body tense, but then she heard his voice. Steady. Grounding.

"Sienna, breathe."

She forced her blurry vision upward, finding Seungkwan's face drawn with concern. His hand didn't leave her shoulder, anchoring her in place. "I need you to take a deep breath in," he instructed, his voice softer this time. "And let it out slowly, okay?"

Her body refused to obey. Her lungs fought against her, her chest rising and falling in erratic, panicked motions.

"It's okay. You're okay," Seungkwan murmured. His other hand found hers, fingers wrapping around hers firmly but gently. "Here... match my breathing."

He exaggerated a slow inhale, his chest expanding deliberately. "In through your nose," he guided. "Hold it. Now out through your mouth. Slow."

Sienna tried to follow, but her breath stuttered. A frustrated whimper escaped her lips.

"Hey, it's okay," Seungkwan reassured her. He adjusted his hold on her, one hand slipping to her back to support her. "Let's count, alright? Four seconds in." His voice was patient, unwavering. "One... two... three... four. Good. Now hold it."

Her fingers curled around his arm, clinging to him as she struggled to mirror his rhythm.

"Breathe out, slow. Four seconds. One... two... three... four."

The first few attempts were shaky, but Seungkwan didn't let go. He kept counting, kept breathing with her. Slowly, the sharp edges of her panic dulled. Her breaths evened out, no longer gasping, no longer desperate.

"That's it," Seungkwan said, his voice lighter now. "You're doing so well."

Her vision cleared, and for the first time, she realized just how close he was. His hands still held her steady, his eyes watching her carefully.

A deep breath filled her lungs properly this time, no longer burning. She exhaled slowly, her grip on his arm loosening.

Seungkwan offered her a small, proud smile. "See? You're okay."

Sienna's breathing had finally steadied, but now she was crying uncontrollably. Her shoulders trembled as silent sobs wracked through her, her body exhausted from everything–running, panicking, feeling too much all at once. She covered her face with one hand as if trying to hold herself together, but the tears kept coming.

Seungkwan didn't say a word. He just stood beside her, unwavering. One hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on her back, the other gripping her hand tightly, as if afraid that if he let go, she would disappear.

Minutes passed like that, Sienna crying until there were no more tears left to shed. She was drained, standing barefoot in front of Seungkwan, her head bowed, eyes refusing to meet his.

A gentle hand lifted her chin. She blinked, finding herself face to face with him. His expression was soft, yet firm, filled with something so raw it made her throat tighten all over again.

"Promise me one thing," Seungkwan murmured, his voice tender but unwavering. "Promise me that from now on, you'll choose yourself. That you'll put yourself first."

Sienna just stared at him, her mind reeling from his words.

He exhaled shakily, his grip on her hand tightening for just a moment. "Sienna... you were there for me when I was in a dark place. You helped me escape a hell I thought I'd never get out of." His voice wavered, but he pushed through. "Now let me do the same for you. Lean on me. I'll stand by you, just like you did for me. So please, Sienna, let me be there for you."

Her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. Her eyes glossed over again, fresh tears threatening to spill.

Seungkwan swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. His own emotions were brimming at the surface, but he forced himself to stay steady for her.

"I promise I'll keep my feelings out of this." His voice cracked slightly, but he continued, pushing past the lump in his throat. "Let's just be friends. Or screw that–let's just be whatever we need to be to each other. But let's be there for each other may that be as friends or as acquaintances or as doctor patient. I can't stand the thought of never seeing you again. I can't stand knowing you're suffering alone." His grip on her hand tightened. "So I promise–this won't be anything beyond a psychiatrist and patient relationship." He let out a shaky breath. "Just... let's stop avoiding each other."

A lone tear slipped down Sienna's already tear streaked face.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, then shook her head. "We can't," she whispered. "It's not possible for me to be your psychiatrist like this." She met his eyes, her voice firmer now. "So from now on, you're no longer my patient. I am no longer your doctor."

"Sienna, please–" Seungkwan started, desperation lacing his tone, but she cut him off.

"From today..." She took a small, trembling step closer. "You're just the guy I like." She let out a breath that carried every ounce of vulnerability she had left. "You're the person I trust the most." Her hand, still in his, squeezed gently. "You're the person who has my heart."

Seungkwan froze. His breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as Sienna's words settled between them. The weight of everything–the tears, the confessions, the raw honesty–hung heavy in the air.

His fingers twitched around hers, but he didn't pull away. Instead, his gaze searched hers, looking for hesitation, for regret. But there was none. Just quiet certainty.

"Sienna..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She stepped even closer, their bodies now only inches apart. Her free hand lifted slowly, hesitating for just a second before cupping the side of his face. Her palm was warm against his skin, her thumb brushing gently along his cheekbone, tracing the faint dampness of the tears he had tried to hold back.

Seungkwan leaned into her touch without thinking. His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment before opening again, meeting hers with an intensity that made her heart race.

And then, with a quiet inhale, she tilted her chin up and stood on her toes.

He met her halfway.

Their lips touched softly, tentatively, like a question neither of them needed to answer. The kiss was slow, gentle, unhurried. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just warmth. Just them.

Seungkwan's hands moved instinctively, one resting against the small of her back, the other cradling her jaw, his fingers barely skimming the nape of her neck. He kissed her as if she were something fragile, something precious, like he was afraid she might break if he held on too tightly.

Sienna melted into him, her fingers curling against his skin as she exhaled through her nose. The world around them faded into nothing. For the first time in so long, she wasn't thinking about work, about responsibilities, about the expectations crushing her. She was just here, with him.

When they finally parted, their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the quiet night air.

Seungkwan let out a small, shaky laugh. "That... wasn't very psychiatrist like of you," he murmured, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against her waist.

Sienna huffed a soft laugh in return, eyes still closed. "Good thing I'm not your psychiatrist anymore, then."

He smiled–really smiled–before pressing the lightest kiss to her forehead. "Yeah," he whispered, voice full of something close to relief. "Good thing."

Chapter Text

"Why did you run barefoot? You could've gotten hurt," Seungkwan scolded, his tone playful but firm as he looked at Sienna's feet, dusted with dirt from the ground.

"It's fine," she giggled, breathless from running. "I'll just be very, very careful about where I walk."

Seungkwan clicked his tongue and shook his head. "This won't do."

Without hesitation, he crouched down in front of her, patting his back. "Climb on. I'm giving you a piggyback ride."

Sienna blinked, caught off guard. "I can walk, you know."

"I know you can. I also know you're gonna keep stepping on rocks like an idiot." He turned his head to look at her expectantly. "Now, get on."

Though hesitant at first, Sienna climbed onto his back, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. Seungkwan's hands settled comfortably under her thighs, securing her in place.

"See? Much better," he said as he started walking, his strides steady and confident.

Sienna rested her cheek lightly against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his back. "You're oddly strong," she murmured.

"Excuse me?" Seungkwan scoffed. "I take offense to that. Of course, I'm strong."

Sienna grinned. "I don't know... I kind of thought you'd collapse under my weight."

He gasped dramatically. "Are you saying I look weak?"

"I'm saying you're dramatic."

Seungkwan laughed, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through her. He adjusted his hold on her slightly, then asked, "Is Sooyeon your korean name? Do people usually call you that?"

Sienna paused for a moment. "Yea. Just mom calls me that. It doesn't really feel like me, you know?"

Seungkwan hummed thoughtfully. "I think it fits you perfectly. Sooyeon. Soo means refined and yeon means bright or graceful. "

She smiled. "You think so?"

"Mhm," he said softly, then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I just don't have any good memories associated with that name."

"It is a beautiful name and if don't have any good memories with that name then we will make some." Seungkwan replied.

"Sooyeon-ah you are so beautiful and kind." Seungkwan says making Sienna blush.

The warmth of their conversation lingered between them as they continued walking. The silence wasn't awkward–it was comfortable, like they could exist in each other's presence without needing to fill every second with words.

After a few moments, Seungkwan spoke again, but this time, his voice had lost its usual teasing lilt. "So... we've already kissed and confessed to each other." He hesitated for a beat before continuing. "Now I'd like to ask the question."

Sienna tilted her head. "The question?"

He stopped walking and adjusted his grip on her, making sure she was secure before turning his head slightly toward her.

"Would you let me be your boyfriend?" His voice was no longer playful but sincere, his usual confidence laced with a quiet vulnerability.

Sienna felt her heart stutter. Even though they'd already crossed so many lines–touches, kisses, confessions–he still wanted to ask properly. The warmth in her chest spread, making her smile.

"Yes."

As if that one word wasn't enough, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his ear.

Seungkwan let out a small chuckle, but his ears turned red. "Good. Because if you had said no, I would've dropped you."

Sienna gasped, smacking his shoulder. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," he teased, tightening his grip on her just slightly.

They reached her house soon after, talking and laughing the whole way. When they finally stopped in front of her home, Sienna hesitated to get off his back, secretly enjoying being so close to him. But eventually, she let go, her feet touching the ground again.

Seungkwan intertwined their hands and pulled her into a light side hug. "I'm right here. Waiting."

Something about the way he said it made Sienna's chest ache–in a good way, like something inside her was softening, breaking down walls she hadn't even realized she'd built.

She gently pulled away, offering him one last glance before stepping inside. She hoped she wouldn't run into her mom.

Instead of staying home, Sienna quickly gathered her things, stuffing them into her backpack. The moment she stepped back outside, Seungkwan was still there, waiting just like he said he would be.

Without a word, he reached out and gave her a light kiss on the forehead, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"Hyung..."

A voice cut through the quiet moment.

They both turned to see Dino standing a few feet away, his mouth slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief. "You... you have to do the ending ment. You lost." His voice was shaky, as if he had just witnessed something impossible.

Seungkwan sighed and turned to Sienna. "I'll be back in a few minutes. We need to wrap up, then we can head back together." Then he turned to Dino. "And you, close your mouth or an insect will fly in."

Dino hurried after him as Seungkwan re-entered the filming site. Sienna didn't have to wait long before she heard shouting and laughter erupting from inside. She could easily imagine the chaos–the teasing, the dramatics.

Fifteen minutes later, the entire group spilled out of the house, giggling and whispering as they surrounded Seungkwan, who now looked like a human tomato.

One by one, each member approached Sienna to introduce themselves, their smiles filled with curiosity and amusement.

Then, Seungkwan cleared his throat and made an announcement. "Me and Sienna are gonna ride back in her car."

A chorus of "Oooohs" and "Ahhhhs" followed, along with a few whistles.

Sienna laughed, watching as Seungkwan tried to fight off the teasing with a glare. But despite his flustered state, there was something undeniably warm in the way he looked at her–like he didn't mind it one bit.

And Sienna? She didn't either.

Once Seungkwan started the engine, they both heard the backseat door open. A frowning minghao entered and shut the door behind him. "I am riding along. It's too noisy back there."

After dropping minghao at the company building seungkwan was free for the rest of the night. He drove to Sienna's place.

"Do you want to come in? We could have some ramyeon and watch a movie" Sienna said shyly.

As soon as Seungkwan parked, he turned off the engine and glanced at Sienna. She was playing with the hem of her sweater, her fingers fidgeting slightly–a nervous habit he found endearing.

"I'd love to," he said, his voice softer than usual.

Her apartment was warm and cozy, dimly lit by soft yellow lights. The air smelled faintly of vanilla, and Seungkwan immediately felt at ease. Sienna moved to the kitchen, pulling out two packs of ramyeon while he hovered nearby, watching her with a fond smile.

"Want me to help?" he offered.

"You can keep me company," she replied, stealing a quick glance at him before looking away just as fast, her cheeks pink.

Seungkwan didn't miss it. His heart fluttered.

While the noodles boiled, Sienna opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. "Do you... want to drink a little? Just to relax?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.

Seungkwan chuckled, tilting his head. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Sienna's eyes widened. "No! I just thought–it's been a long day, and I thought it might be nice!"

He laughed at her panicked expression, reaching out to pinch her cheek lightly. "I'm just teasing."

Her face burned, but she nodded, setting out two glasses.

By the time they settled on the couch with their food and wine, the atmosphere had grown comfortable yet charged. Every small movement felt amplified–the way Seungkwan's knee brushed against hers, the way Sienna reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, only for Seungkwan to lightly touch her hand in the process. Their fingers lingered for a moment too long before she pulled away, breath hitching.

They started a movie, but neither of them was paying much attention. Seungkwan leaned in closer whenever he made a comment, his breath warm against her ear.

Sienna caught him glancing at her more than once, his eyes soft, unreadable.

A particularly funny scene played, and Seungkwan threw his head back laughing. Sienna watched him, her heart swelling. She wanted to freeze this moment.

When he turned back to her, still grinning, he noticed the way she was staring. His laughter faded into something quieter, more intimate.

"Sienna," he murmured.

She barely had time to respond before he leaned in, closing the space between them. His lips brushed against hers–hesitant at first, waiting. Sienna tilted her head, closing the distance completely.

Seungkwan's lips moved against hers, slow at first, testing, but when Sienna sighed into his mouth, something shifted.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She responded instantly, pressing into him, her hands gripping the front of his sweater like she was afraid he'd pull away.

He didn't.

Instead, he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to taste more of her. His lips were warm, insistent, and Sienna could barely keep up. She gasped when his hand skimmed down her back, his touch firm yet careful, and the sound seemed to snap something in him. He groaned softly against her mouth, his grip tightening at her waist as he pulled her into his lap.

Sienna barely had time to register the shift before he was kissing her again, harder this time, like he'd been holding back and finally let go. Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging just enough to make him sigh against her lips. His tongue brushed against hers, slow and deliberate, sending heat rushing through her body.

She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palms, just as unsteady as hers.

The movie played on in the background, completely forgotten as they lost themselves in the warmth of each other–every kiss, every touch, every shuddered breath pulling them deeper.

Seungkwan's lips left hers only to trail down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her jaw, then lower, to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. Sienna let out a shaky breath, tilting her head to give him more space. He chuckled against her skin, breathless but pleased, before capturing her lips once more–this time with no hesitation, no second guessing.

Just them, lost in each other.

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight streamed through the window of Sienna's apartment, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The soft light seemed to illuminate everything–the half empty coffee mugs, the scattered books, and most of all, the quiet space where they shared a moment of peace.

Seungkwan was brewing coffee, the sound of the machine a gentle hum against the stillness.

"I thought we would take it slow, but I guess life has other plans," Seungkwan said with a small laugh, his eyes flickering to Sienna, who was moving around the kitchen with practiced ease.

Sienna chuckled, the sound light and easy, as she flipped the last piece of toast. She didn't respond immediately, the weight of his words settling in her chest.

"I should go back. Jeonghan hyung is probably worried about why I didn't sleep at home yesterday," Seungkwan added, his voice softer now as he placed a cup of coffee on the counter.

Sienna's heart sank a little. She had hoped for a few more minutes, a few more stolen moments. She sighed and looked down at the plate in front of her, stirring a fork absently.

"I should also take some rest before I need to get back to work tomorrow," she replied, her voice low, almost a whisper.

"Don't overwork yourself," Seungkwan cautioned gently, his eyes meeting hers with concern. "I know you take on others' shifts too because you're too nice, but you should be a little selfish. Take care of yourself, Sooyeon-ah."

Selfish.

The word cut through her like a knife, the sharp edge of Jiyeon's voice echoing in her mind.

"I already am selfish," Sienna murmured, barely above a whisper, hoping Seungkwan wouldn't catch it.

He didn't.

He smiled softly, unaware of the storm brewing inside her, and started gathering his things.

The following day, after spending the entire day resting, Sienna finally picked up her phone. She had texted and called Seungkwan several times, trying to ease the guilt she felt for leaving him hanging the night before.

But the guilt was still there, lingering like a weight on her chest. She saw the missed call and a series of unread messages. Her heart dropped when she realized she hadn't responded. Was he angry? Did he think she was pulling away?

Sienna let out a quiet sigh and got back to work.

Dr. Choi had returned from his vacation, and though her workload had lessened, it still felt like too much. The steady hum of her phone vibrating on the counter was the only sound, besides the steady chatter of her coworkers.

"Nurse Jang, how many patients did we see today?" Sienna asked, stretching her arms and wincing at the tension in her shoulders. It was almost time to turn in for the day.

"Thirty," Nurse Jang replied with a knowing smile.

"Thirty?!" Sienna repeated, the number surprising her. "Wow, it didn't even feel like that much."

Dr. Jang raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. "Dr. Kang, did something happen to you? You're glowing. I guess that weekend worked wonders for you."

Sienna blushed, offering a small, shy smile. "I guess so," she said quietly, avoiding Nurse Jang's probing gaze.

"Whatever happened, I'm happy for you, doctor," Nurse Jang continued, her tone softening. "Don't let people like Dr. Yang and Dr. Lee take away that sparkle in your eyes."

Sienna's heart fluttered. She wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was true–being with Seungkwan had brought out a side of her she hadn't expected. Yet the pressure was building, too. The guilt. The feeling that she wasn't putting in enough effort was lingering.

She checked her phone and saw several texts from Seungkwan, as well as a missed call. Her stomach tightened.

Their work schedules were so different and hectic that most of the they missed each other's text and call. It saddened her a bit.

He had asked her to come over tonight.

Sure, she was tired, but the relationship needed effort. She had to keep things balanced, didn't she? She had to prove she was a good girlfriend, even if it meant sacrificing a little of her own time and energy.

So without a second thought, she agreed to meet him.

Later, as she stood in front of her mirror, carefully choosing what to wear, Sienna couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She wasn't even sure anymore whether she was dressing for Seungkwan or for herself. She wanted to be the perfect girlfriend–the one who always looked her best, always made time, always kept him happy.

She sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. In the mirror, she didn't look the way she felt. She felt tired but she tried her best to look rested and refreshed.

Sienna rang the doorbell, shifting on her feet as she waited. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Seungkwan, his face lighting up the second he saw her.

"You look amazing," he said, eyes raking over her with pure adoration.

Sienna felt warmth rush to her ears, and she ducked her head slightly, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

Before she could respond, another voice chimed in from inside the apartment.

"Sienna, how have you been?" Jeonghan asked, his tone carrying a teasing lilt. He leaned casually against the doorway leading to the dining area, a smirk playing at his lips. "How did you guys sleep last night?" he added, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Sienna froze. Her body went rigid as her eyes darted toward Seungkwan, wide with mortification.

"Hyung!" Seungkwan hissed, glaring at him.

Jeonghan just chuckled, clearly enjoying their reactions.

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter and conversation. The table was laden with an assortment of takeout dishes, and between bites, they exchanged stories and playful banter. Sienna found herself loosening up, her earlier embarrassment fading under the warmth of good company.

After they finished eating, Jeonghan stood up and started clearing the table, gathering the empty containers with ease.

"Hyung, I'm taking Sienna to my room," Seungkwan announced, grabbing her hand.

Jeonghan barely looked up as he washed a dish. "Sure," he said nonchalantly. Then, just as they were about to disappear down the hall, he added, "Just use protection."

Sienna choked on air, her face instantly burning hotter than ever.

"Hyung!" Seungkwan snapped, shooting him a betrayed look.

Jeonghan only laughed, waving them off.

Muttering curses under his breath, Seungkwan tugged Sienna into his room, shutting the door behind them.

She barely had time to recover from her embarrassment before she felt his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

"I'm going to kill him," Seungkwan grumbled, pressing his forehead against hers.

Sienna let out a breathless laugh. "He's just teasing."

"Yeah, well, he's lucky I have better things to focus on right now," Seungkwan murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Her heart skipped a beat. The air between them shifted, thick with something unspoken yet unmistakable.

Then, he kissed her.

It started slow–gentle, lingering, his lips molding perfectly against hers. His hands settled at her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her sweater. Sienna melted into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, then threading into his hair.

He deepened the kiss, tilting his head, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them. She gasped softly when his grip tightened, his arms pulling her flush against his chest. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he had been holding back for too long.

Sienna's fingers curled into his shirt, anchoring herself as heat bloomed in her chest. He swallowed every shaky breath she let out, every soft sound she couldn't contain.

Seungkwan broke away just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his breaths ragged. His thumb brushed over her cheek, his lips ghosting over hers as he whispered, "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Sienna exhaled a shaky laugh, her hands still buried in his hair. "I think you're the one doing that to me."

Seungkwan pulled away from her, and Sienna immediately missed the warmth of his body against hers.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

Sienna opened her mouth to say no. She was exhausted. She had work in the morning and a long drive back home. She had a hundred reasons to refuse, logical excuses that would make sense.

But she couldn't say no.

Seungkwan was leaving for Japan tomorrow. Four days wasn't that long, but their schedules barely aligned as it was. Every moment together felt fleeting, slipping through her fingers too quickly.

She wanted to make up for not having enough time.

"Okay," she murmured.

His lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. "Okay then, let's sleep." He walked over to his dresser, pulling out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts before handing them to her. "Here, you can change into these."

Sienna blinked at the clothes in her hands. "Wait... that's it?"

He gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I thought we'd... watch a movie or talk or do something. Anything."

Seungkwan shook his head, amusement flickering in his tired eyes. "Sienna, you worked all day. You and I both know how exhausted you are. Let's just rest."

"But you won't be here for the next four days," she protested, pouting slightly. "We should make up for lost time."

He chuckled, stepping closer and tapping her nose lightly. "I'll be back. It's not like I'm leaving forever."

The words should have reassured her, but instead, a realization hit her like a punch to the stomach.

Had she sounded clingy just now? Like the kind of girlfriend who couldn't function without being attached to her boyfriend every second?

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Sorry," she muttered, lowering her gaze.

Seungkwan frowned. "Why are you apologizing?" He turned away to grab his own pajamas, changing into them quickly before looking back at her. His voice softened. "Sleeping together is enough for me. I get to be with you. Even if we're just lying here, your presence is enough. Even if it's through a phone, you're enough for me."

Sienna felt her chest tighten, a lump forming in her throat.

She nodded and turned away to change into his clothes. The fabric swallowed her frame, the T-shirt falling almost to her mid thigh, the shorts loose around her waist. But they smelled like him, warm and familiar, and despite everything weighing on her mind, she felt comforted.

When she turned back around, Seungkwan was already lying in bed, his arm stretched out, inviting her in.

"Come here," he said softly.

Sienna hesitated for just a second before slipping under the covers, letting him pull her against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, warm and secure, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

She exhaled, tension seeping from her muscles as he ran a hand up and down her back in slow, soothing strokes.

"This is nice," he murmured, voice already laced with sleep. "Just you and me."

Sienna hummed in agreement, closing her eyes, willing herself to let go of the thoughts nagging at her.

But as Seungkwan's breathing evened out, soft and steady against her hair, guilt gnawed at her.

She hadn't made enough time for him.

She always got caught up in work, in responsibilities, in everything else. Meanwhile, Seungkwan, who gave so much to everyone, never asked for much from her. He was content with what little time they had, but was it really fair to him?

Sienna thought about her own schedule. Even he returns from japan her schedule would not permit them to spend a lot of time together.

Sienna lay awake long after Seungkwan had drifted off, guilt pressing heavy on her chest. She wished she could do more, be more for him.

Chapter Text

While Seungkwan was in Japan, Sienna and he barely talked over the phone. The time difference, along with their work, made it hard for calls. They only exchanged texts–short messages asking whether they had eaten, reminding each other to rest, the bare minimum of staying connected.

Once Seungkwan returned, Sienna wanted to see him, but work kept her too busy. She was practically living in the hospital at that point, drowning in back to back shifts and endless paperwork.

Seungkwan, being the caring boyfriend he was, sent her food and snacks by delivery whenever he could. God knows how he knew she was skipping meals, but he did.

Maybe he could tell by how slow her replies were or how tired she sounded on the rare occasions they spoke.

They had been trying to plan a date for weeks, but it never worked out.

If Sienna was free, Seungkwan wasn’t. If he was free, she wasn’t.

Two weeks passed like this, and it almost felt like they were in a long distance relationship. Their only connection was through texts, phone calls, and FaceTime, but even those moments felt rushed, squeezed between their overwhelming schedules.

Sienna sat on the couch in her tiny apartment, eating the jjajangmyeon Seungkwan had sent her, barely tasting it.

Her phone rang, and for a split second, she thought it was him. But when she glanced at the screen, her stomach twisted.

Mom.

Her mother had tried calling her multiple times, but Sienna wasn’t ready to talk. She needed more time.

She let the call ring out, staring at her food, suddenly feeling too drained to eat. But barely a minute later, her phone buzzed again.

This time, it was Seungkwan.

Relief flooded her chest as she answered immediately. “Hey.”

“You didn’t eat much, did you?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of knowing in it.

Sienna hesitated. “I did. Kind of.”

“Liar,” he muttered. There was a pause, then a sigh. “Did something happen?”

Sienna swallowed, glancing at her phone screen where the missed call from her mother still lingered. “Not really. Just tired.”

He didn’t push, but she could tell he didn’t buy it either. “I should’ve sent you something healthier.”

“No, it’s not–”

“I’ll fix it tomorrow,” he cut in. “Anyway, when are you finally going to let me see you in person?”

Sienna winced. “I’m trying. Really.”

“I know.” His voice was understanding, but there was something else too. Something that made guilt creep into her chest. “But it feels like we’re doing long distance. And I really, really suck at long distance.”

Sienna closed her eyes, hating the truth in his words. She hated this just as much as he did. She missed him–so much that it hurt–but her job was swallowing her whole, and she didn’t know how to pull herself out.

“Let’s fix that,” she said, grabbing her planner. “Let’s plan something right now.”

Seungkwan hummed. “Okay. I’m free Wednesday night.”

“Wednesday, I have a night shift.”

“Friday?”

“Back to back consultations.”

“Saturday?”

“I’m covering for someone.”

“Sienna.” His voice held a note of frustration now.

“I know,” she groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Okay, Sunday?”

“I have a schedule until late.”

“Monday?” she asked hesitantly.

“I have a morning schedule but free in the evening.”

Sienna sat up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Monday night, it is.”

The guilt loosened, if only a little. “Finally.”

Seungkwan’s voice softened. “I really miss you.”

Her throat tightened. “I miss you too.”

“Then Monday,” he said firmly, like he was sealing a promise. “And until then, I’ll keep sending you food, so don’t even think about skipping meals.”

Sienna let out a quiet laugh. “Bossy.”

After the call ended, Sienna sat in silence, staring at her half eaten jjajangmyeon. The food had gone cold, but the guilt in her chest burned hot.

She had finally managed to set a date with Seungkwan, yet instead of feeling relieved, all she felt was awful. Two weeks had passed since he returned, and they hadn’t seen each other once. Two whole weeks.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him–God, she wanted nothing more–but every time she tried, something came up. And every time she told him she was busy, she could hear the disappointment in his voice. He never made her feel bad about it, never got upset, but that only made it worse.

She was failing him.

She pressed a hand against her forehead, eyes squeezing shut. This wasn’t just about Seungkwan. Her mother had called again, and she hadn’t answered. How long was she going to keep running away? Avoiding conversations, missing moments that mattered–what kind of person did that make her?

She felt stretched thin, like she was holding too many things at once, and she was starting to drop them.

With a deep breath, she pushed the food away and lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. She needed to fix this. Somehow.

But first, she needed to make it to Monday.

It felt like it took a year for Monday to arrive. The moment Sienna finished her last task for the day, she slumped back in her chair, exhaling sharply.

She grabbed her phone and started scrolling through online stores, searching for something to wear. She had planned to go shopping but had no idea what kind of outfit she wanted.

"That’s a beautiful dress," Nurse Jang’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Sienna startled slightly, not having noticed Nurse Jang entering her office.

An idea suddenly sparked in her mind. She hesitated for a moment before turning to the nurse. "Nurse Jang, are you free right now?"

"Yeah, I’m done for the day," Nurse Jang replied casually.

Sienna bit her lip, feeling a little awkward. "Would you like to come with me? Shopping? I have a dinner date tonight, and I don’t know what to wear. I mean, you can totally say no! I know you’ve been working all day and must be exhausted. This was a bad idea. It’s okay, I’ll just go alone–"

"I would love to go," Nurse Jang interrupted, cutting off Sienna’s nervous rambling with a warm smile.

"Oh," Sienna blinked in surprise before letting out a relieved laugh. "Okay, great. And call me Sienna."

Nurse Jang–Mihee–grinned. "Alright, Sienna. Let’s go find you the perfect outfit."

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, fabric swatches, and countless outfit changes. They scoured boutique racks for dresses, heels, and makeup, with Mihee offering opinions and encouragement along the way. Sienna learned that Mihee was only a year older than her and had been married for two years–a fact that somehow made her seem more mature in Sienna’s eyes.

By the time they returned, Sienna had found the perfect outfit, and Mihee insisted on helping her get ready.

"Thank you, Nurse Jang," Sienna said sincerely as she admired her reflection in the mirror.

"Call me Mihee," she corrected with a smile, fastening the clasp of Sienna’s necklace.

Sienna turned to look at her, touched by the gesture. "Thank you, Mihee."

Sienna took one last glance at herself in the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The dress she had chosen was an elegant, flowing ivory piece with delicate ruffle details cascading down the sides. The sheer, billowy sleeves gave it a soft, ethereal look, while the subtle cutouts at the waist added just a hint of boldness. It was romantic yet sophisticated–perfect for the occasion.

Her long, dark hair tumbled in loose waves over her shoulders, framing her face. Mihee had helped her apply soft, natural makeup, accentuating her features without overdoing it. A touch of blush brought warmth to her cheeks, and a subtle sheen on her lips completed the look. She paired the dress with dainty heels and a shimmering silver handbag, adding just the right amount of glamour.

Mihee took a step back, admiring her work. "You look stunning, Sienna," she said with a satisfied smile.

Sienna let out a small, nervous laugh. "I hope so. I haven't been on a date in a long time."

"Whoever he is, he’s lucky," Mihee teased, giving her a gentle nudge. "Now go. Have fun."

Sienna took a deep breath, grabbed her clutch, and stepped out the door, ready for whatever the evening had in store.

Mihee had left an hour ago, leaving Sienna alone with her thoughts. She had spent the last few minutes pacing her apartment, checking her reflection in the mirror far too many times. Her nerves were on edge, but the moment her phone buzzed with Seungkwan’s call, she exhaled sharply and grabbed her purse.

She stepped outside, and there he was–leaning against his car, waiting for her.

The evening glow cast a soft light on him, accentuating the effortless elegance of his outfit. He had chosen a crisp white button down, the top few buttons undone just enough to add a casual charm. The sleeves were rolled up slightly, giving him a relaxed yet polished look. He paired it with tailored black trousers that fit him perfectly, elongating his frame. His choice of footwear, chunky black shoes, added a modern edge to the otherwise classic ensemble.

For a moment, Sienna just stared.

"You look..." she started, searching for the right words.

Seungkwan smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Handsome? Charming? The best dressed man you've ever seen?"

Sienna rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I was going to say ‘surprisingly put together,’ but sure, let’s go with that."

He let out a laugh, shaking his head before finally letting his gaze drop to take in her dress. His expression softened, a flicker of something Sienna couldn’t quite place crossing his features.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice quieter this time.

Her breath hitched for just a second before she quickly composed herself. "You ready to go?"

Seungkwan nodded and opened the car door for her. "Of course. Let's make this a night to remember."

They sat in a quiet, elegant restaurant. One that exuded sophistication without feeling uncomfortably extravagant. The dim lighting, soft classical music, and candlelit tables created an intimate atmosphere, shielding them from the outside world. It was private, carefully chosen so they wouldn’t have to worry about prying eyes or any potential scandals.

As they browsed the menu, Sienna and Seungkwan fell into easy conversation, their words flowing effortlessly despite the weeks they had spent apart. It felt natural, like slipping back into a familiar rhythm. They teased each other over their food preferences–Sienna raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan’s insistence on ordering multiple side dishes, while he playfully judged her for choosing something he deemed "too safe."

Their orders were placed, and as they waited, silence never had the chance to settle between them. They kept stealing glances at each other, neither able to suppress their smiles.

Sienna found herself forgetting about work, about stress, about the constant weight she carried on her shoulders. The warmth of the restaurant, the low hum of conversation in the background, the way Seungkwan’s laughter felt like a melody she hadn’t realized she missed–it all made her feel light, untethered.

Seungkwan rested his chin on his hand, watching her with amusement. "You look like you’re actually relaxing for once," he noted.

Sienna scoffed but couldn’t deny it. "Maybe I am."

"Good." He leaned back in his chair, grinning. "That means I’m doing my job right."

"And what job is that?" she challenged.

"Making sure you don’t work yourself into an early grave." His tone was teasing, but the concern in his eyes was real.

Sienna felt a warmth spread through her chest. She looked at him for a moment longer before sighing dramatically. "Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re a decent distraction."

Seungkwan feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Just decent?"

She smirked. "Don’t push it."

Their laughter mixed with the ambient sounds of the restaurant, and for that moment, nothing else mattered.

As their conversation continued, the atmosphere between them shifted–still light, still warm, but with an undercurrent of something deeper. Seungkwan wasn’t just teasing anymore. He was looking at her like he wanted to say something important.

Sienna felt it too. The way his fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of his glass, the way he kept glancing at her lips before quickly looking away. It made her heart race in a way she wasn’t used to.

Seungkwan exhaled softly, setting his drink down. "You know," he started, his voice quieter now, more serious. "I really like you, Sienna."

She blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. "I like you too, Seungkwan," she replied, keeping her voice light, as if that would keep her own emotions at bay.

But he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, I mean… I really like you." He paused, hesitating before continuing, his gaze locking onto hers. "I think I–"

Her phone rang.

Loud and intrusive, the sound shattered the moment between them. Sienna jumped slightly, breaking eye contact as she hurried to grab her phone from her purse.

Seungkwan froze, his unfinished words hanging in the air like an echo that never fully formed. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned back in his seat, the vulnerability he had just shown retreating behind a carefully crafted expression of patience.

Sienna glanced at the screen. It was work. Of course it was.

She looked up at him, conflicted. "I should–"

"Yeah," Seungkwan interrupted before she could finish, forcing a small smile. "Go ahead. It’s important."

She hesitated, something twisting in her chest. She didn’t want to answer it. Not right now. But the weight of responsibility was hard to ignore.

With an apologetic look, she answered the call, turning slightly away as she spoke in hushed tones.

Seungkwan let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair. He should’ve seen it coming. Timing was never on his side.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

My heart clenched the moment I saw him.

His usual warmth was missing, replaced by something quieter–tension in the way his fingers tapped against the table, the way his lips curled into a forced smile. He was trying, but I knew better.

He is disappointed in me.

The guilt coiled around my chest, squeezing tighter with every passing second. The air between us felt thick, suffocating. My eyes burned, but I refused to let it show.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and answered, already dreading what was coming.

"Sienna, I am so sorry. I didn’t want to call and ruin your date, but I had no choice. A patient of yours is having a psychotic episode. He’s in the ER. We need you to come in." A pause. Then Mihee said in a softer voice, "I’m really sorry."

I closed my eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply. This wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t mine either. But it still felt like it.

"I'll be there in five," I said, my voice carefully even, masking the emotions swirling inside me.

I ended the call and looked up at Seungkwan. His gaze met mine, understanding yet unreadable. I hated this.

"Seungkwan, there’s an emergency at the hospital," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Can you drive me there?"

The guilt leaked into my words, and I hated that too.

But he smiled–this time, a real one, soft and reassuring. As if he could hear the unspoken apologies in my head, he said, "Of course I'll take you. Don’t worry, I understand. Your job is important. I’m not upset about this."

His words were genuine. But I still saw it... that flicker of disappointment before he pushed it away.

I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded.

There was nothing else I could do.

We left the restaurant without even touching our food. The night had barely begun, and yet, it already felt over.

The car ride was quiet, save for the hum of the engine. The weight of another missed moment settled between us. Neither of us said a word.

And somehow, that made it worse.

The moment I stepped into the ER, the sharp scent of antiseptic and the distant beeping of monitors pulled me back into reality. A nurse spotted me immediately, relief flashing across her face as she rushed over.

“He’s in room three,” she said breathlessly. “We’ve tried verbal de-escalation, but he’s getting aggressive. Security is on standby.”

I nodded, pushing down everything else. This was my job. This was what I was trained to do.

But as I stepped into the room, I couldn’t stop the flicker of Seungkwan’s face in my mind–the disappointment, the way he forced a smile, the untouched food left at the table.

I pushed the thought away.

The patient, a man in his mid thirties, was pacing frantically, his breath uneven, his hands tugging at his hair. His eyes darted wildly around the room, paranoia twisting his features. When he saw me, he flinched.

“I’m not going back!” he shouted. “You can’t make me! I know what you people do!”

I kept my voice calm. “No one’s making you do anything. I’m just here to help.”

A tray of instruments clattered to the floor as he knocked it over, his hands trembling. The nurses stiffened, ready to intervene, but I lifted a hand.

I needed to do this right.

“Let’s give him 5 mg of haloperidol and 2 mg of lorazepam, IM,” I instructed, my voice steady.

The nurse nodded and moved swiftly to prepare the injection, but my own hands felt cold. I curled my fingers into a fist, forcing myself to focus.

The patient let out a shaky breath, his whole body trembling. “I just… I just want it to stop.”

I softened. “I know.”

The nurse handed me the syringe, and I approached carefully. “I’m going to give you something to help calm your mind, okay? It’s going to make things feel less overwhelming.”

His eyes darted toward the door, his jaw clenching. For a second, I thought he might resist, but finally, he exhaled and gave a small, tense nod.

I administered the sedative, watching as the tension in his body slowly started to ease.

It should have been a relief. It should have felt like a victory.

But my mind kept slipping–back to Seungkwan, back to the way he reassured me when I should have been the one reassuring him.

I hated myself for it.

I hated that, for the first time in my career, my focus wasn’t entirely here. That I was thinking about a failed date instead of my patient’s well being. That I couldn’t just be one thing at a time–fully present at work, fully present with Seungkwan.

Instead, I was failing at both.

“Dr. Kang?”

I blinked. The nurse was looking at me expectantly. “Should we move him to observation now?”

Right. Focus.

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “Let’s keep him under monitoring for the next few hours. Notify me if there’s any change.”

She nodded and turned away, but I hesitated, my fingers curling into my palm.

For the first time, I wondered if I kept living like this, torn between two worlds, never fully present in either–how long before something truly slipped through the cracks?

I walked out with my head hung low, drained by the emotional turmoil. Each step felt heavier than the last as I made my way out of the building, my mind clouded with exhaustion.

Then I saw him.

Standing outside his car, waving energetically, plastic bags in hand. His bright presence was such a contrast to the weight pressing down on me that I almost couldn't believe he was real.

"I got tteokbokki, bungeoppang, and gimbap," Seungkwan announced, grinning like he had just won the lottery.

"You waited for me again?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," he said without hesitation. "Now, let's go. Our date awaits!"

"Where are we going?" I asked, confused but letting him guide me to the car.

"You’ll see," he teased, eyes twinkling with excitement.

The drive was quiet, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between us. I stared out the window, the city lights blurring as we got farther from the busy streets.

When the car finally stopped, I looked around, realizing where we were. The Han River.

He led me to a quiet spot with a wooden bench, nestled away from the usual crowds. The river shimmered under the streetlights, the air crisp but not too cold.

"Many idols come here for dates," Seungkwan said, setting down the bags and glancing at me with a gentle smile. "It’s quiet and gives privacy."

The cool wind blew against my skin, a crisp reminder of the approaching December chill. For a brief moment, the exhaustion weighing me down seemed to lift, giving me a fleeting sense of relief. But it was temporary, like standing at the edge of the ocean, only for the tide to pull me right back in.

Seungkwan must have noticed because, without a word, he grabbed a jacket from his car and draped it over my shoulders.

The warmth seeped into me, but it did little to chase away the cold settling in my chest.

"This is nice," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. When I turned to look at him, his eyes held something I couldn't quite recognize–something deep, almost searching. "You're an amazing woman, Sienna, and I am so proud to be your boyfriend. I know today didn’t go as planned, but this isn’t bad."

The guilt hit me like a punch to the gut.

"I'm sorry," I said again, my voice barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it was crushing.

"Why do you keep apologizing?" Seungkwan asked, concern laced in his voice. "It’s not your fault. And I’m happy right now. Isn’t that enough?"

It wasn’t. Not to me.

It should be perfect. He puts in so much in this relationship. He is risking so much by being in a relationship.

The least i can do is make this perfect for him. Be the perfect girlfriend.

I forced a smile, but the tightness in my throat made it hard to breathe. He shouldn’t have to comfort me like this. He shouldn’t have to keep picking up the pieces of someone who was supposed to be holding him together.

"Sooyeon-ah," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Are you okay? You look more and more exhausted each day. Are you taking care of yourself?"

The name–my name, the one only my mother used–made something in me crack. The name I detested so much coming from the man I love made me feel warm.

I stayed quiet, fighting the sting of tears. My fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, as if holding onto it would keep me from falling apart.

"Work has been hard these days," I admitted, my voice shaking. "But I’m okay." The lie tasted bitter, but I swallowed it down. "I’m sorry that you feel like you need to take care of me. I don’t want to be a burden. I wanted to make this date perfect for you."

"You are not a burden. Never think like that," he said, his voice steady with conviction. "This relationship doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s okay the way it is."

Silence settled between us, heavy and fragile. I blinked rapidly, trying to force back the tears threatening to spill.

Seungkwan reached for my hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles against my skin. "I want you to promise me one thing," he said. "When things get tough, talk to me. Confide in me. This is a two way thing. We lean on each other."

I nodded, forcing another smile.

But deep down, I knew I couldn’t keep that promise. I wanted to, but the thought of burdening him with my struggles felt unbearable.

So I lied. Again.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

I woke up late the next day, my body heavy with exhaustion. Sunlight leaked through the blinds, but it did little to shake off the lingering grogginess clinging to me like a second skin. With a tired sigh, I shuffled into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.

As I grabbed a banana, my fingers brushed against my phone, forgotten on the counter from the night before. I picked it up, yawning as I peeled the fruit with one hand and tapped at the screen with the other.

The apartment felt empty, cold even, without Seungkwan's warm presence. I hadn't realized just how much I had gotten used to having him around, filling the silence with his laughter, his gentle hums, even his exasperated sighs when I worked too much.

I unlocked my phone and immediately noticed several missed calls from him, along with a flood of unread messages. A small spike of concern flickered in my chest, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I opened them.

A news article stared back at me, its bold, glaring headline making my stomach drop.

SEVENTEEN's Boo Seungkwan Spotted with a Girl.

I swallowed hard, my heartbeat picking up as I forced myself to read the contents.

SEVENTEEN's Boo Seungkwan, known for his incredible talent and charm, was seen late last night with a mystery woman. The two were spotted together before the woman entered the idol's car. Could this be the end of Seungkwan's single status?

There were picture of us leaving the restaurant and getting in his car. My face was partially visible.

My chest tightened. My hands trembled as I scrolled down, only to be met with another article, just as brutal.

SEVENTEEN's Boo Seungkwan Caught in a Dating Scandal; Fans Express Dissatisfaction.

A sickening wave of dread crashed over me. My world tilted. The ground beneath me felt unsteady, my vision blurring at the edges as my mind raced.

They knew. They had seen us.

A cold sweat formed on my back as I imagined the backlash, the scrutinizing eyes, the harsh words that must be spreading like wildfire across the internet.

Panic surged through me, numbing my fingers as I hastily dialed Seungkwan's number. The phone barely rang once before he picked up.

"Sienna?" His voice was rushed, laced with worry. "Are you okay? I've been calling you."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My throat was tight, my pulse hammering in my ears.

He sighed. "You saw it, didn't you?"

The morning passed in a blur, my mind too fogged with nerves to process much of what had happened before this moment. Now, I was seated in Seungkwan's living room, tension thick in the air as I faced him, S.Coups, Jeonghan, Joshua, and several staff members.

Seungkwan sat beside me, his expression carefully neutral, though I could feel the slightest tremor in his knee where it rested near mine. Across from us, S.Coups looked composed, but the sharp set of his jaw told me he was deep in thought. Jeonghan, ever unreadable, leaned back into the couch with his arms crossed, while Joshua sat forward slightly, hands clasped together, his face calm but serious. The staff members, some with laptops open, others with papers in hand, exchanged quiet murmurs as they prepared to address the elephant in the room.

The dating rumors.

I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears as one of the managers finally spoke. "We need to get ahead of this."

Seungkwan exhaled slowly beside me. "What are people saying?" His voice was steady, but I could hear the weight beneath it.

A staff member adjusted their glasses, scanning their phone. "It started with a few blurry photos, but it's snowballing. Some claim you've been meeting in secret for months. Others are analyzing every interaction you've ever had."

I stiffened. This wasn't just speculation–it was scrutiny, the kind that picked apart moments I hadn't even realized were significant.

Jeonghan let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. "And let me guess, they're already making up stories to go with it?"

"Of course they are," Joshua murmured. "It's the internet."

A heavy silence settled over the room. I could feel the weight of their gazes, waiting for a response, for some sort of explanation. But all I could think about was how this one morning had suddenly changed everything.

The manager sighed, setting their phone down on the coffee table. "For now, we're not putting out a statement. Addressing it would only add fuel to the fire."

I felt Seungkwan tense beside me. "So we just... let people say whatever they want?"

"For now, yes," the manager said firmly. "The best thing you can do is lay low. Avoid being seen together. No subtle interactions, no coincidences. Sienna, that means you, too. No liking posts, no cryptic messages, nothing that could make people speculate further. Just let the storm pass."

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "So... we just cut physical contact?"

The manager hesitated before nodding. "Until things settle down, yes. It's for the best."

For the best.

I nodded, my face blank, but inside, I could feel the guilt curdling in my stomach like something rotten. This was my fault. If I hadn't been so careless, if I hadn't asked him to drive me to the hospital, Seungkwan wouldn't be sitting here with people picking apart his personal life.

Seungkwan shifted beside me, about to say something, but I stood up quickly. "I understand," I said, forcing my voice to be steady. "I'll be careful."

I didn't wait for a response. I just needed to leave before the weight of everything crushed me entirely.

Back home, I sat on my bed, phone in hand, even though I already knew I shouldn't look. But I couldn't stop myself.

The trending tags were everywhere. Seungkwan's name. My name. The word scandal.

My fingers hesitated before tapping into the posts. At first, it was just the usual: blurry photos, speculation, exaggerated timelines. But then, I saw the comments.

"She walks so awkwardly... how did he even notice her?"

"The way she dresses... she doesn't even match his level."

"She looks so plain. Why would Seungkwan date someone like her?"

"If you're going to date an idol, at least try to be presentable."

There were comments which defended us but the hateful comments stuck out like sore thumb. People called me many slurs.

And worst of all, Seungkwan was getting hate too. Because of me.

I turned my phone over, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes as if that would stop the thoughts from clawing their way in.

I should have been more careful. I should have been invisible. Seungkwan didn't deserve this.

And yet, here I was–ruining things for him just by existing.

Chapter Text

"So... are you and Seungkwan really dating?"

"Sorry?" Sienna looks up from the file in her hand, her expression blank.

The patient stares at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Sienna exhales slowly through her nose before shifting her gaze toward the door. "Nurse Jang."

Mihee enters the office, immediately understanding the situation without a word. She places a gentle but firm hand on the patient's shoulder, guiding the woman who looks to be in her early thirties out of the consultation room.

When Mihee returns, she shuts the door behind her and leans against it with a sigh. "Dr. Kang, I think you should go home for the day. You look exhausted."

"I am tired, Mihee," Sienna admits, rubbing her temple. "But work is a good distraction from everything else."

It wasn't the first time an appointment had turned into something like this. Ever since her name and her face had been thrown in front of the world, patients had started treating her differently. Some asked invasive questions. Some offered encouragement. Others hurled insults. She had learned to stomach it all.

Two weeks had passed since the scandal broke, and Sienna still wasn't used to it.

"Sienna, you barely talk anymore," Mihee says softly, concern etched into her features. "And your focus is elsewhere. You know as well as I do that in this line of work, you can't afford distractions. Your mind is completely occupied with all of this."

"I know." Sienna's response is flat, emotionless.

Mihee hesitates before continuing, her voice careful. "I don't know if the rumors are true or not, and honestly, I don't need to. But I just hope if you are with him, that he treats you well. You're taking most of the heat for this."

Sienna stares at her hands for a long moment before answering. "He's amazing, Mihee. He treats me well. And I deserve it." Her voice barely rises above a whisper. "He's getting hate too... because of me."

Mihee watches her closely before sighing. "Sienna, have you eaten?"

"No, but I'm not hungry. I'll see a few more patients and head home."

Mihee presses her lips together, clearly unconvinced, but doesn't push further. Instead, she places a reassuring hand on Sienna's shoulder before walking back toward the door.

Sienna exhales, closing her eyes for a moment. Two weeks. Two weeks since her world was turned upside down. And there was no end in sight.

Sienna hadn't talked to Seungkwan properly in the two weeks since the scandal broke. They hadn't met in person, and most of his calls had gone unanswered. She told herself it was because of her packed schedule, but deep down, she knew the truth.

She wasn't ready to face him.

Their texts were brief, clipped, barely conversations at all. Seungkwan tried–his messages were warm, filled with concern–but she kept her responses short, dodging anything that could lead to an actual discussion.

She knew she couldn't avoid him forever. But for now, her guilt wouldn't let her.

Logically, she understood it wasn't her fault, yet from her perspective, everything that had happened–the backlash, the endless scrutiny, the cruel words–was because of her. She couldn't meet his eyes knowing she was the reason he was suffering.

After work, she went straight home.

She took a long shower, standing under the running water for what felt like forever, too drained to do anything else. By the time she crawled into bed, her body was heavy with exhaustion.

Just as sleep was about to take her, the doorbell rang.

Her heart lurched.

Sienna hesitated before sitting up, rubbing her face. She checked the door camera, and there, standing in the dimly lit hallway, was a man wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over his face.

But she knew those almond-shaped eyes instantly.

Seungkwan.

Her breath hitched.

For a second, she considered not opening the door. But her body moved before her mind could stop it, her fingers unlocking the door. The moment it swung open, he pulled her into a crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her tightly, as if he was afraid she'd slip away.

"It's been too long," he murmured against her hair, pressing a quick peck to her lips.

Sienna's stomach twisted.

She forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Why are you here? What if someone saw you? We'd be in big trouble."

Seungkwan pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her waist. "Don't worry, no one saw me. And I don't care what the company says. I missed you." His voice was gentle, but there was something firm in the way he held her, unwilling to let her slip away again. "How have you been? Are you okay?"

Sienna swallowed. "I'm okay, just exhausted from work. I was actually about to sleep."

Seungkwan searched her face, his gaze soft but scrutinizing. "Did you eat?" he asked, like he already knew the answer.

"Yeah..." she lied. She didn't want to worry him.

Seungkwan exhaled through his nose, clearly not believing her, but he let it go.

Sienna shifted uncomfortably. "I know we haven't seen each other in a while, and I'd love to talk, but I'm really tired today. Do you mind if we do this some other day?"

There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he masked it quickly, offering a small smile instead. "Sure... I understand. You must've had a hard day."

But the truth was, Sienna couldn't face him.

She could feel it in the way her chest ached, the way her hands itched to hold onto him but stayed at her sides instead.

Seungkwan hesitated for a moment before asking, "Should I stay over?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was an underlying hopefulness to it.

Sienna shook her head, forcing herself to move toward the door. "I think it's best if you go home. I have work really, really early tomorrow morning."

Seungkwan nodded, though his expression dimmed just a little. "Oh... okay then." He adjusted his mask and hat before wrapping his arms around her one last time. "Take care, Sienna. Don't overwork yourself."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before turning away, disappearing into the night.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Sienna crawled back into bed, pulling the blanket over her head.

She remained still. But she was wide awake.

Tears welled in her eyes before silently spilling over, soaking into her pillow.

She missed him.

She missed his warmth.

She missed how his arms felt around her, how they used to sleep tangled together, how safe he made her feel.

But she had no right to want that right now. Not when she was the reason he was being hated.

So she let the tears fall, slow and quiet, until exhaustion finally pulled her under.

Chapter Text

Sienna zoned out again.

It was the third time that day. The words of her patient blurred into background noise, their voice distant, muffled, as if she were underwater. She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus, but the weight in her chest remained.

The eyes that once held warmth and understanding were now vacant, drained of all emotion. The reassuring smile she had mastered over the years–the one that made people feel safe–was nowhere to be found. Her office, once a refuge, now felt sterile and uninviting. The soft glow of the lamp did nothing to cut through the cold emptiness she carried inside.

She knew she wasn't fit to see patients, not like this. But admitting that meant confronting something she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she clung to the excuse of exhaustion, blaming the heavy fog in her mind on overwork. If she just kept pushing forward, things would go back to normal. Wouldn't they?

But the disconnect between her and everyone around her only grew, stretching wider and deeper like a chasm she had no idea how to cross.

New Year's was in two days. Somehow, Seungkwan had convinced her to spend it with him. He had promised to be careful, reassured her that no one would know. That it would just be the two of them.

The incident had almost died down. Only a few people still talked about it, clinging to it like a broken record.

She glanced at the clock.

12:14 p.m.

Sienna closed her eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath, pressing her fingertips against her temples as if that would somehow push away the fog in her mind. Her body ached with a dull, lingering fatigue, and her thoughts felt like they were wading through thick, unrelenting mud.

Then, a knock on the door.

"Dr. Kang, your food has arrived," Mihee's voice rang through the silence. The door creaked open slightly, and Sienna turned her head to see her assistant holding a plastic bag filled with takeout. The smell of fried batter and spicy broth curled into the room, rich and heavy.

Sienna frowned. "Food? What food?" she asked, confusion lacing her voice. It wasn't lunchtime yet.

Mihee raised an eyebrow. "You ordered tangsuyuk and jjamppong."

Sienna's gaze snapped to the wall clock.

3:42 p.m.

Three hours had passed.

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the hands of the clock, trying to make sense of it. But the more she grasped for the memories, the more she realized–there was nothing.

She couldn't remember ordering the food. She couldn't remember what she had been doing for the last three hours.

Nothing.

A cold sensation trickled down her spine.

She had blacked out.

Panic clawed at Sienna's chest as she gathered her belongings in a rush, shoving her phone and keys into her bag with trembling hands. She barely managed to slip on her coat before darting for the door.

The moment she stepped outside, the cold air hit her like a slap, but it did nothing to clear the haze in her mind. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs as she pulled out her phone and canceled all her outpatient appointments for the day with a few quick taps. A flimsy excuse about an emergency. She didn't care. She needed to go home.

By the time she reached her apartment, nausea coiled tightly in her stomach. She barely made it to the bathroom before collapsing to her knees, retching violently into the toilet.

Her body trembled as she flushed the toilet and leaned back against the cool tile, trying to steady her breathing. But the unease remained, sitting heavy in her gut like a lead weight.

She forced herself to stand, dragging her feet toward the kitchen for some water. As she opened the fridge, her eyes landed on a container of leftover pasta.

Pasta?

Her breath caught in her throat. When did she eat pasta? She couldn't remember.

Her fingers hovered over the container, her mind scrambling for any recollection of buying, cooking, or even tasting it. Nothing. It was like her brain had been wiped clean.

Her head spun, the nausea creeping back up her throat. A deep sense of unease slithered through her veins.

She turned away, stumbling toward the living room. Maybe she just needed to sleep. Maybe some rest would help.

Collapsing onto the sofa, she barely had time to pull a blanket over herself before her body succumbed to exhaustion.

Within minutes, she was in deep slumber, swallowed by the void.

When Sienna woke up, the room was bathed in soft morning light–but it wasn't morning. It was already afternoon.

Her body felt impossibly heavy, as if she had been buried under an invisible weight. She let out a shaky breath and reached for her phone, her fingers clumsy from exhaustion. Without thinking, she called in sick, requesting a few days off. She wasn't sure how many. She just needed time.

After dragging herself to the bathroom, she took a long, scalding shower, hoping the water would wash away the emptiness pressing against her ribs. But when she stepped out, the exhaustion remained, clinging to her like a second skin. Without bothering to dry her hair properly, she crawled back into bed, pulling the blanket over her head like a shield.

She only stirred when her phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.

Squinting at the screen, she saw Seungkwan's name flashing. There were multiple missed calls, unread messages stacking up one after another. He had been trying to reach her for hours. She had left him on read every time. She wasn't ignoring him on purpose–she just couldn't bring herself to think of a reply.

With a deep breath, she finally picked up.

"Hey. Are you okay?" His voice was filled with concern, cutting through the silence like a lifeline.

"Yeah... I was just feeling a bit tired, so I took a few days off and slept the fatigue away," Sienna mumbled, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Sorry for leaving you on read."

"It's okay. I was just worried," Seungkwan admitted, a little relieved. "It's good that you took some time off."

"Hmm." She nodded absently, even though he couldn't see her.

A short pause. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "Are we still on for tonight?"

Sienna blinked, forcing herself to focus. Right. New Year's Eve.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there," she said, pushing through the haze in her mind.

In the background, she heard a familiar voice.

"Hyung, stop flirting and get back here!"

Dino.

Seungkwan sighed. "Sorry, my break's over. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Bye."

As soon as the call ended, Sienna lay back down, completely still. She stared at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused. The lump in her throat burned, but no tears came. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel something. But all she felt was empty.

After a while, she forced herself up, dragging her feet back to the bathroom. She turned on the shower again, letting the hot water cascade down her tense shoulders, her skin turning red from the heat. She stood there, unmoving, her mind drifting.

What should I wear? she thought absentmindedly. Maybe something light. Something that makes me look... normal.

Fifteen minutes. That's how long she thought she spent under the water.

When she finally stepped out, she moved on autopilot–drying her hair, applying light makeup, choosing an outfit. It wasn't until she was satisfied with her reflection that she truly looked at herself in the mirror.

Her lips curled into a practiced smile.

A smile that said, I'm okay.

A smile that said, Don't worry about me.

She picked up her phone, ready to head out.

And then her stomach dropped.

Multiple missed calls. Messages. Seungkwan's name lighting up her screen over and over again.

Her eyes flicked to the time.

Past midnight.

Her breath caught in her throat.

That fifteen minute shower hadn't been fifteen minutes at all. The time spent getting ready had stretched into something much longer. But she didn't know how long. She didn't know.

The hours had slipped through her fingers like sand, and she hadn't even noticed.

Panic clawed at her chest as realization set in–she had stood Seungkwan up.

Chapter Text

'What do I even tell him?'

Sienna gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she dialed his number.

The moment he picked up, his voice was frantic. "Sooyeon-ah, are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I’m fine," she lied, her voice steadier than she expected. "There was an emergency. I had to rush to the hospital."

Silence. Then, a shaky exhale.

"Oh, thank God," he muttered, relief bleeding into every syllable. "I was so scared something happened. Where are you now? Still at work?"

"No, I just got home."

"Okay. Then I’ll be there in twenty minutes."

Panic flared in her chest.

"No, don’t come," she said quickly. "I’m really tired from work, and you must be exhausted too from practice. Go rest."

"Sooyeon–"

She hung up before he could argue.

And then, as the silence settled around her, she realized her hands were still shaking.

Sienna couldn’t be bothered to change out of her clothes or remove her makeup. The weight pressing down on her chest made even the simplest movements feel exhausting. She sank onto the couch, tilting her head back against the cushions, eyes slipping shut.

She tried to fill in the blank spaces.

Tried to remember.

But no matter how hard she reached, her mind remained frustratingly empty, the missing hours slipping further from her grasp.

Then, her doorbell rang.

Her eyes snapped open, her body stiffening. Her heart picked up speed, dread creeping into her veins.

It was late. Too late.

"Please don’t let it be who I think it is."

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself off the couch and made her way to the door, hesitating only for a second before pulling it open.

Seungkwan stood there, a plastic bag of food in his hands.

Before she could say anything, he stepped inside, moving past her with practiced ease.

"I made some kimchi jjigae, samgyeopsal, and bulgogi," he said casually, as if he hadn’t just barged in. "Let’s eat before it gets cold."

Sienna just stood there, watching as he bustled around her kitchen like he belonged there, pulling out plates and setting the table without hesitation.

She couldn’t understand him.

Couldn’t understand how he could still be here after she had lied to him, ignored his messages, stood him up, and told him not to come.

"Why are you here?" The words slipped out before she could stop them, her voice hollow. "I told you not to come."

Seungkwan looked up, pausing just long enough to meet her gaze. A teasing smile curled at his lips, but his eyes held something softer, something knowing.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone light. "Aren’t you happy to see your man?"

Sienna swallowed hard, her throat tight. She had spent so long avoiding this–avoiding him, avoiding everything–but now he was standing right in front of her, looking at her like she was something fragile, something precious, something worth saving.

And she couldn’t take it anymore.

The first tear fell before she even realized she was crying.

Sienna barely registered the taste of salt on her lips before she wiped at her face, furious at herself, at everything. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not with him.

But Seungkwan just stood there, watching her.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked finally, his voice quiet but strained.

She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "What do you think is going on, Seungkwan?" She threw her arms out, gesturing vaguely around her. "I’m a fucking mess! That’s what’s going on!"

"That’s not an answer." His jaw tightened.

"Well, I don’t have a better one!"

Seungkwan exhaled slowly, forcing himself to be patient. "Sienna, please. Just talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, we can–"

"We can what?" she cut in, her voice sharp. "Figure it out? Fix it? Like this is some problem we can solve over dinner?" She gestured to the food he’d brought, still untouched. "That’s not how this works, Seungkwan! I don’t need you to fix me–I can do it myself! I’m the one who’s supposed to fix it, not you, not anyone else! I am a mess right now, I admit it. But I don’t need you to 'fix me'. It’s my job to fix others, so I think I can handle my own problems. I am just going through something right now."

"You think I don’t know that?" His voice rose, frustration creeping into his tone. "You think I don’t know something’s wrong? You stood me up, Sienna! You lied to me! And now you're acting like I'm the problem for being worried?"

He stopped to take a breath. To steady himself before continuing.

"After you didn’t come, I went to your hospital in case you were there. I asked for you, and they said you took time off and weren’t coming to work. That’s when you called me. I was in the parking lot when you called."

Her breath hitched, but she ignored the sting of his words.

"I did forget about you," she admitted, her voice hollow. "I forgot we had plans. I forgot you."

Seungkwan flinched, and guilt twisted in her stomach but she shoved it down.

"I feel like I am going crazy. So give me a break. Maybe I have gone mad."

"Don’t say that." His voice was quiet but firm.

"Why not? It's true!" She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a shaky breath. "I don’t know what’s happening to me, Seungkwan. I don’t know how to stop it. And you–" Her voice cracked. "You shouldn't be here."

"Where else would I be?"

"Anywhere else!" she snapped. "With your friends! With people who aren’t–who aren’t–"

"Who aren’t what?" His voice was sharp now, his patience thinning.

"Broken!"

The word hung between them, heavy and unforgiving.

Seungkwan inhaled sharply. "Sienna–"

"You should leave." Her voice trembled. "You should just–just go. Forget about me. Just–"

"I can’t!" The frustration in his voice finally cracked, raw and unfiltered. "I won’t!"

"Why?" She laughed, shaking her head. "Why do you keep showing up? Why are you always there when I am a mess–when I am most vulnerable?"

"Because I love you!"

Silence.

Sienna froze, her breath catching.

Seungkwan did too, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them. His expression was unreadable–surprised, frustrated, maybe even a little afraid.

It was his first time saying it to her. That wasn’t how he had wanted to say it. Not like this. Not in the middle of a fight, while she was crying and he was barely holding himself together.

But it was out now.

And then, Sienna laughed.

A short, humorless sound that made something inside him twist.

"No, you don’t," she said, shaking her head.

His stomach dropped.

"You don’t love me," she continued. "You love that I was there for you. You love that I listened. That I made you feel better. That’s not love, Seungkwan. That’s just–just gratitude. Or–or dependency. Or something."

Seungkwan felt something in his chest crack.

"Don’t tell me how I feel," he said quietly.

"But it’s true!" Her voice was desperate, like she needed him to believe it.

He let out a sharp breath.

"You know what?" he muttered. "Fine. You win."

He grabbed his coat, stiff and tense.

"I’m not going to argue with you about my own feelings," he said, voice low. "But don’t you ever say that I don’t love you just because you’re scared of it."

She swallowed hard.

He stepped back, waiting.

She didn’t stop him.

So he left.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

I drive in silence, my grip tightening around the steering wheel as I replay the night's events in my head–the argument.

I had spent the entire day preparing. I strung up fairy lights and lit candles, decorating the balcony with fresh flowers. I cooked dinner myself, carefully plating everything just right. I even bought a bouquet and a pendant, something I thought she would love. I had imagined us kissing at midnight, fireworks bursting in the night sky above us, sealing the moment in gold and silver light.

But she never came.

I waited. And waited. And waited.

And when she finally answered my calls, she lied about why she hadn't shown up. That hurt more than the waiting. But still, I told myself, she must have had her reasons. I held onto that hope, clinging to the thought that we could still salvage the night.

But now, here I am, driving home. Alone.

The silence in the car is deafening, thick and suffocating. Only the steady hum of the engine fills the void. Even the city outside feels muted, as if the world has turned its back on me too.

When I reach home, I kick off my shoes at the entrance, not even bothering to turn on the lights. My feet move on instinct, carrying me to Jeonghan hyung's room.

I don't change clothes. I don't hesitate. I just slip into his bed and wrap my arms around him, holding on as tightly as I can.

He stirs, startled at first, but then he shifts, draping an arm over me in return. His warmth seeps into me, filling the empty space in my chest.

"I love you," I whisper. I'm not even sure who I'm saying it to. Maybe I just needed to say it out loud.

Half asleep, his voice is groggy but gentle. "I love you too."

Jeonghan hyung is a sensitive sleeper. I usually make a point not to disturb him. But tonight, I don't want to be alone. I just need someone here.

His steady breathing, the quiet rise and fall of his chest against mine, lulls me into something close to peace.

And finally, I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, I find myself alone. The weight of the blanket still clings to me, cocooning me in warmth. Jeonghan hyung's scent lingers in the air–a mix of fresh laundry, faint cologne, and something uniquely him. His room feels cozy, like a place untouched by the outside world.

I don't want to get up. I don't want to face the day.

But the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen pulls me from my haze.

My stomach grumbles, a sharp reminder that I hadn't eaten dinner last night. With a groggy sigh, I drag myself out of bed, running my fingers through my hair in a half hearted attempt to fix the mess my hair was.

When I shuffle into the kitchen, Jeonghan hyung is already setting the table, stacking pancakes onto a plate alongside other breakfast dishes. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet fills the air.

"Still in yesterday's clothes, I see," he remarks without looking up.

I grunt in response, still too sleepy to defend myself.

"Want some coffee?" he asks.

"Yeah," I mumble, rubbing my face before heading to my room to freshen up.

A quick shower wakes me up, though the exhaustion still clings to my bones. When I return to the dining room, breakfast is all laid out. I don't waste time–I sit down and start eating, shoveling food into my mouth like I haven't eaten in days.

Jeonghan watches me with amusement, sipping his coffee. "Don't you have work today?" I asks.

"It's the weekend," he replies matter of factly, leaning back in his chair.

I nod, still chewing, until his next words make me pause.

"So, you wanna tell me what happened? Why the sudden love confession in the middle of the night?" His tone is neutral, unreadable.

I don't answer. I just keep eating.

Jeonghan doesn't push. He knows me well enough to understand when I'm not ready to talk. Instead, I shift the conversation.

"Do you wanna go on a hike today? You're free, and so am I. It's a good way to start the new year."

He gives me a flat look. "Do I look like someone who enjoys such strenuous activities?" He takes another sip of coffee, unimpressed.

I don't argue. I just sit in silence, finishing the last bite of my pancake.

Then, after a long pause, he sighs.
"So... where are we going?"

"Ya, Boo Seungkwan, I am going to kill you," Jeonghan wheezed between gasps for air.

We had finally reached the top of the trail in one piece–barely. I thought a hike might help clear my head, but instead, it just reminded me of how out of shape I was.

"We both... should really... exercise more often," I panted, hands on my knees as I tried to steady my breath.

Jeonghan let out a breathless laugh before collapsing onto the nearest boulder. I followed suit, dropping beside him. The view was breathtaking–rolling green hills stretching into the horizon, the city skyline barely visible in the distance. But all I could focus on was the burning in my lungs and the weight in my chest that had nothing to do with the hike.

The rush of blood and lack of oxygen made me feel lightheaded, almost detached from my body. Slowly, our breathing evened out. I leaned back on my hands while Jeonghan lay down right there on the rock, arms spread out like he was about to take a nap. I swear to god, this man could sleep anywhere.

A comfortable silence settled between us, filled only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. The wind was cool against my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. For a second, I wished it could carry away the heaviness in my heart, too.

"What are we doing here, Seungkwan?" Jeonghan finally asked, his voice quieter now.

I inhaled deeply, trying to find the right words.

"Sienna and I had a fight," I admitted. "I told her I loved her, but... she didn't... say it back."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a strange relief. Like I'd finally released a breath I'd been holding for too long.

Jeonghan said nothing at first, just letting the silence stretch between us. And for once, I was grateful. I wasn't sure I could handle hearing something comforting or dismissive right now. I just needed space to process it.

The wind shifted, brushing the hair from my forehead. I closed my eyes for a moment, as if that would make everything hurt less.

"Hyung..." I hesitated before continuing, "something is wrong with Sienna."

Jeonghan sat up a little, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard. "Do you remember how I was before my hiatus? I kept pretending I was fine–until I wasn't. I tried to isolate myself from everyone, but you guys wouldn't let me. You forced me to get help."

Jeonghan frowned. "Yeah... You wouldn't take calls, ignored texts, missed practice..." His voice trailed off, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait. Is she...?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But she's shutting me out. And she doesn't have many people around her right now. I'm scared she's going through what I went through."

Saying it out loud made the fear more real.

I took another shaky breath.

"But the difference between me and her... is that I had people. I had you guys. My family. I wasn't alone, even when I felt like I was." My voice cracked slightly, but I pushed through. "But Sienna? She has no one right now. And I–" My throat tightened. "I left her yesterday. I walked away."

Jeonghan didn't rush to respond. He just listened, like he always did when it mattered most.

"I've learned that when sadness comes to visit me, all i can do is say 'i see you'. I spend some time with it, get up, and say goodbye." I murmured. "I don't push it away. I own it. And because I own it... I can let it go."

My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

"I learned how to do that because of you guys. Because of my family. Because of Sienna," I whispered. "And now, when she's the one struggling, when she needs someone the most... I wasn't there."

I let out a soft, bitter laugh.

"I just want to tell her it's okay not to be okay. That she doesn't have to go through this alone. That I'm not going anywhere," I said, my voice breaking. "But I already left. I left."

Jeonghan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before shifting to look at me properly. "Then go back."

I turned to him, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

"Go back, Seungkwan," he repeated. "It's not too late."

For the first time in hours, maybe even days, something in my chest loosened. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn't too late.

Maybe I could still fix this.

As I took a deep breath and inhaled the woody scent of nature my phone buzzed. I was surprised I had net.

A message from Sienna.

I opened the chat.

Lets break up.

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

He left.

He actually left.

I told him to go, but I never thought he'd really do it. Should I feel sad? No–I should be glad. He listened. He did what I asked.

But as the weight of it hit me, the ground beneath me suddenly felt unsteady. My body knew what was coming before my mind caught up.

I stumbled towards the couch, clutching the edge for balance. The moment I sat down, everything went black.

A sharp buzzing filled my ears as I opened my eyes. The world tilted, spinning around me as I forced myself upright. My head pounded, and my limbs felt heavy. When the dizziness finally subsided, I glanced around the room. It was morning already.

The light streaming through the curtains felt too bright, too harsh.

Dragging myself to the fridge, I poured a glass of water, my hands trembling. I drank it in greedy gulps, the cold liquid burning its way down my dry throat.

I returned to the couch and collapsed into it, tossing my head back and staring blankly at the ceiling. I didn't want to think–not about anything-but the fight with Seungkwan kept replaying in my head like a broken record.

No matter how many times I tried to shut it out, it pushed its way back in.

And the more I thought about it, the clearer it became.

I had to let him go. Really let him go.

I had to stop being a burden, stop dragging him down with me. I couldn't keep hurting him, not anymore.

My chest tightened as I picked up my phone and opened our chat. I scrolled through our messages–some lighthearted, some tender, some filled with late night honesty and warmth. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling.

A tear slipped down my cheek. Then another. And another.

By the time I typed out those three words, I was crying uncontrollably.

It took everything in me to hit send.

But once I did, the world fell eerily silent.

I stared at the screen, waiting, heart hammering in my chest, until the message turned to Seen.

And then I broke.

I sank into the bed, buried my face into the pillow, and cried like the world had just ended.

Because, in a way, it had.

I shouldn't be here.

The thought hits me the moment I step into the clinic, but I ignore it. The hallway smells like antiseptic and stale coffee. A nurse offers me a warm smile as I walk by. I smile back, but it feels like my face has forgotten how to move that way. My skin is too tight. My mouth doesn't want to lift.

"You're back early," Dr. Choi, my supervisor, says as we cross paths near the break room. She's holding a paper cup, her lipstick perfectly intact on the rim. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lie, forcing my voice into something that sounds almost convincing. "I just... didn't want to sit around."

She gives me a once over, reading more than I want her to. But she nods anyway. "Well, we're glad to have you."

I walk into my office, drop my bag beside the chair, and sit. The silence feels suffocating. I open my laptop and immediately drown in backlogged emails, pending reports, and patient updates. The admin team must have held back the caseload in anticipation of my longer leave, but now it's flooding in.

Good. I want the flood.

Maybe if I drown in routine, I won't think about him.

I won't think about how I broke the only good thing in my life.

Or how I watched him walk away after I told him to.

I stare at a photo pinned to my corkboard–one from a retreat last year. All the psychiatrists, smiling and bright eyed. There's me, mid laugh, sunlight catching in my hair.

I don't recognize her.

A soft knock breaks the silence. "Dr. Kang?"

I glance up to see Mihee. She's clutching a clipboard to her chest like a shield. "I know you just got back, but there's a walk in. A mother and her son. The boy's been acting out in school. Principal thinks it might be ADHD. They asked for an urgent consult."

I hesitate. The sensible thing would be to reschedule. Give it to someone else. But I hear myself say, "I'll take it."

"Are you sure?"

I nod. "Yeah."

Five minutes later, they're sitting in front of me.

The boy–Sunoo–is seven, with shaggy brown hair and eyes that dart all around the room. His legs bounce restlessly, feet tapping a fast rhythm against the floor. He looks anywhere but at me. His mother, pale and exhausted, clutches her handbag tightly, her voice already worn as she starts explaining.

"He can't sit still. The teachers say he's disruptive. He talks out of turn, zones out, sometimes runs out of the classroom when he gets overwhelmed."

I take notes automatically. "When did it start?"

"Kindergarten, maybe earlier. I thought he was just energetic, you know? But it's getting worse. He doesn't sleep well. He talks non stop at home. And he... he gets frustrated easily."

I nod along, asking follow ups, checking boxes in my mind. Fidgeting. Inattention. Impulsivity. Trouble following rules. It all aligns.

"Have you tried any behavioral interventions?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Not really. I work long hours. His grandmother picks him up from school most days. We haven't had time."

Sunoo starts kicking the leg of my desk. His head jerks toward the shelves behind me, eyes flicking over the picture frames, the toys, the books.

"Sunoo," I say gently, "can you look at me?"

He does–for a second. Then back to the wall. He hums something under his breath.

My head throbs. The fatigue I've been pretending I don't feel is starting to win. I take a breath.

"Based on what I'm hearing and seeing," I begin carefully, "Sunoo is showing classic symptoms of ADHD. I'd like to start with a preliminary diagnosis so we can begin early interventions. It's not final–we'll need to monitor him and possibly do neuropsych testing. But for now, I recommend behavioral therapy, and we can discuss medication options if things don't improve."

His mother nods like she expected it. Like she wants a name to cling to. A reason.

I print out a basic information sheet and circle a few therapy centers we partner with.

"You're doing the right thing," I say as I hand it to her. "Early support makes a big difference."

She thanks me, her voice trembling with relief. They leave.

The moment the door shuts, I collapse back in my chair.

And I feel... nothing.

No surge of confidence. No satisfaction. No reassurance that I've helped someone. Just blankness. Cold and heavy.

Did I do that right?

The doubt creeps in fast. But I shove it down and open the next file.

This is what I asked for, right? To keep busy?

I bury myself in work all day. But the disconnection lingers. I go through sessions like a robot. I nod, take notes, say the right words, but I feel miles away from the people sitting in front of me.

Something is off. I know it. I just don't know how to fix it.

Later that night, at home, I get a message from my mother.

Sienna, I know things between us aren't easy, but I'd like to talk. I miss you. I want to fix this.

I lock my phone without replying.

I'm not ready.

I lie on the couch, staring at the ceiling, remembering Sunoo's eyes–darting and restless. Remembering the way his mother sighed when I gave her a label. Like it was a gift. Like she needed it more than he did.

What if I was wrong?

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes.

No. I'm trained. I've done this a hundred times. It matched. It made sense.

And yet, something gnaws at me.

It's not just about Sunoo.

It's about me.

I don't feel like Kang Sienna anymore.

I feel like a ghost of her, sleepwalking through sessions, through life, waiting for someone to shake her awake.

But the only person who could do that is gone.

Because I pushed him away.

And now I'm left with this.

Just work.

Just silence.

And the gnawing feeling that today, I might have gotten something very, very wrong.

Chapter Text

"How is he?" Mingyu whispered.

Jeonghan glanced at him, then back at the figure stretching on the wooden floor across the room. "Better than I expected," he murmured, watching Seungkwan with a thoughtful gaze.

Seungkwan's movements were precise, his stretches fluid and purposeful–too purposeful. He hadn't missed a single practice since the breakup, hadn't skipped a meal or cried. On the outside, he looked fine. Controlled. Almost peaceful.

Too peaceful.

"He didn't cry," Jeonghan continued under his breath. "Didn't binge eat or stop eating completely either. He hasn't withdrawn. He's acting like Sienna never existed."

Mingyu furrowed his brows, lowering his voice further. "That's not a good sign, is it?"

"No," Jeonghan said. "It makes me even more worried. It's like he flipped a switch."

"Dude, I'm not deaf," Seungkwan cut in, twisting his torso mid stretch to face them. His eyes narrowed. "Mingyu hyung, you should be more worried about that high note where you sound like a distressed vulture, instead of worrying about me."

Mingyu blinked in surprise before bursting into a short laugh, but Jeonghan held in his smirk.

"And you," Seungkwan added, jabbing a finger in Jeonghan's direction, completely dropping honorifics, "get out of here before I call security. I don't need babysitting. You should be at home resting, old man. You've been working your ass off all day."

Jeonghan didn't hesitate. He stood, walked across the room with leisurely steps, and yanked Seungkwan's ear between his fingers like an exasperated mother scolding a mouthy child.

"YA!" he snapped. "I'm older than you, Boo Seungkwan. How dare you talk to me like that?"

"Sorry! Sorry, sorry, hyung!" Seungkwan cried, scrunching his face in exaggerated pain as he tried to twist away.

Jeonghan let go with a sigh, watching as Seungkwan rubbed his ear with a wounded expression.

"You're getting violent in your old age," Seungkwan grumbled, pouting as he peeked at his reflection in the mirror, checking his poor, reddened ear.

Jeonghan just raised an eyebrow. "You deserved it."

Seungkwan glanced away, the pout still lingering, but there was a flicker of something softer behind his eyes. A flash of weariness. It disappeared before either of them could name it.

"Hyung," he said after a beat, "where are you getting your energy from these days? You go to work early in the morning, then you come here with me at night like it's nothing. You don't even take your afternoon naps anymore." He tilted his head, voice quieter now. "Where's all this energy coming from?"

Jeonghan shrugged, but he didn't smile.

Truthfully, his bones ached. His body was sore, and his mind was stretched thin between deadlines, paperwork, and the mental load of worrying about his younger brother. But he'd seen the way Seungkwan walked around after Sienna broke up with him. The silence between them had been loud enough to scream.

"I guess I just care about you more than I care about naps," Jeonghan finally said, nudging Seungkwan's shoulder with a gentle push. "Stupid, I know."

For a second, the room felt still.

Seungkwan's eyes darted down to the floor, then back up to Jeonghan's face. "It's not stupid," he muttered, his voice rougher than it had been a moment ago.

Behind them, Mingyu watched quietly, his usual grin replaced by something quieter. Understanding.

Jeonghan slung an arm around Seungkwan's shoulders, pulling him in despite the way the younger tried to shrug him off.

"You can keep pretending you're fine, Boo," Jeonghan murmured, not unkindly. "But don't do it for us. We don't need the act."

"I'm not pretending."

"You're always pretending," Jeonghan said gently. "Even when you're not trying to."

Seungkwan was quiet for a long moment. Then he shook his head and pulled away, walking back toward the speaker system and restarting the track. "Let's practice before Mingyu gets out sung by a dying rooster again."

The beat dropped, filling the room once more, but this time, the tension had softened.

Jeonghan sat back down, bones protesting, and Mingyu gave him a small, knowing smile.

"You think he'll break eventually?" Mingyu asked under the music.

"Maybe," Jeonghan said, watching the way Seungkwan moved–sharp, controlled, a little too perfect. "But when he does, I'll be there."

And he would be.

Because love–romantic or not–meant showing up, especially when someone else couldn't admit they needed you.

Seunkwan knew that and it haunted him. He was haunted by the fact that he was not there for Sienna when she needed him. He left her first so she left him too.

The only reason he is not crying is because he believes he doesn't deserve to feel that way. The only reason why he is not texting Sienna is because he believes she deserves better.

Someone who won't leave.

"Youngjun hyung, have you decided to finally kill us?" DK groaned dramatically, collapsing like a deflated balloon onto the hardwood floor, sweat dripping from his chin. He sprawled out flat, one arm over his eyes. "Is this revenge for when Soonyoung hyung almost spoiled the entire choreo for our last comeback?"

Youngjun turned slowly, arching a brow, towel hanging over his shoulder. "Don't exaggerate, Dokyeom-ah. It cannot be harder than Super–"

But before he could finish, a chorus of desperate protests erupted around the studio.

"Hyung, Super gave me cramps in places I didn't even know could get cramps!" Minghao muttered from where he lay face down, unmoving.

"I still have nightmares about that drop sequence," Seungcheol groaned from his seat against the mirror, where he had gone limp like a retired gladiator.

Youngjun finally cracked a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright. Go home. Take rest. We'll work on the details tomorrow."

Around them, the practice room was a battlefield of exhaustion. Some were lying flat on their backs, trying to catch their breath, others sipping water like they'd just crossed a desert. Phones were slowly appearing in tired hands, faces lit up by the soft glow of screens. Jeonghan, as expected, had claimed the couch and was fast asleep, one arm dangling off the side like a Victorian ghost.

He had nothing to do while the others practiced, so he either read a webtoon or slept like a corpse.

It was 2:30 in the morning.

As the members slowly began to stir, Woozi stood near the exit, bag over his shoulder, waiting for Seungkwan.

"Seungkwan-ah," Woozi called, voice low and purposeful. "I've arranged for you to meet Ha Hyunsang tomorrow. He's helping you with your solo."

Seungkwan perked up a little, though his body ached like it had been steamrolled.

Woozi continued, "He's an incredible singer-songwriter. Really intuitive. So..." He shot Seungkwan a teasing look. "Try not to embarrass me."

Seungkwan pouted, offended. "You talk like I go out of my way to humiliate you."

"I still have that demo you sent me," Woozi deadpanned. "The one about fried chicken."

Seungkwan gasped. "That was art!"

"That was a jingle for a fast food commercial," Woozi retorted, deadpan. Then he gave him a small smile before heading out the door. "Don't stay up too late."

Later that night, after making sure Jeonghan was tucked into bed–stealing his blanket halfway through the process and ignoring the groggy protests–Seungkwan returned to his own room. It was quiet. The kind of deep, velvety silence that only came after midnight. He sat down at the little desk by the window, grabbed his notebook, and clicked his pen open.

His legs throbbed from practice. His eyes stung from fatigue. But he couldn't sleep–not when he felt this tangle in his chest, this gnawing need to create something that sounded like him.

He opened the notebook to a fresh page. Stared at it for a long time.

Then, he began to scribble.

"Tangerines."
It made him smile. He remembered the tangerine orchard behind his grandma's house in Jeju. That feeling of peace. Of sunlight and citrus.

"Beyoncé."
Because duh. Queen. Icon. Blueprint.

"Karaoke."
Drunken nights with the members, shouting lyrics into cheap microphones and laughing until their voices cracked.

"Ramen."
Not the instant kind. The real kind. The kind you eat alone at 2am, feeling like the hero of your own indie movie.

"Jeju. Mom. Beach. Rain."
Soft things. Sad things. Warm things.

"Memories."
Too vague.

"Puddles."
Hmm. Could work. Something about stepping in a puddle and not even being mad because you're too heartbroken to care.

"Love."

He paused.

His pen hovered over the page. He didn't write anything for a long time.

Then finally
"Sienna–"

He stopped.

His hand froze, like the muscles themselves had short circuited.

That name still lived in the corners of his mind, like a stubborn melody he couldn't forget how to hum. It wasn't just her–it was the way she made things feel softer. The way she saw through him, right to the raw center. The way she touched his arm when he laughed too hard. The way he abandoned her and she left him.

He exhaled sharply and scribbled the name out. A long, dark line that nearly tore through the page.

Focus.

He scolded himself and turned the page.

This time, he didn't stop.

He wrote five full drafts.

One was about Jeju and the sea breeze that never quite let you forget where you came from.

One was a ballad disguised as a karaoke anthem.

One was stupidly funny, half wrapped around the word "tangerines" in seventeen different metaphors.

One was quiet. Just a voice, a piano, and a story that only he could tell.

And the last one... the last one had no words at all. Just feeling. Scribbled melodies. Doodles of rain and puddles and a girl. A single line in the corner that read–
"The 'us' of a certain time"

He stared at it until the sun started to bleed through the edges of the window. Until the world began to wake up and he still hadn't closed his eyes.

But he didn't feel tired anymore.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan’s POV

"Hello, sunbae-nim! I’m so excited to work with you!" Hyunsang said brightly, bowing in a full ninety degree angle the moment he entered the studio.

I smiled, a little caught off guard by his enthusiasm, and stood up to return a polite bow of my own. “You don’t have to be so formal. I’m really excited about this arrangement too.”

He straightened with a shy laugh, brushing his fringe back nervously. We settled into the cozy recording studio, the air filled with the faint scent of americano and the familiar quiet hum of waiting equipment. A silence stretched for a beat too long before we both spoke at once.

“So–”

“Do you–”

We both paused and laughed, the tension breaking a little.

“So, how long has it been since you debuted?” I asked, easing into conversation.

“It's going to be seven years. But I still feel like a rookie sometimes,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “Sunbae-nim, can I ask how old you are?”

“I was born in 1998. My birthday’s actually next week,” I replied with a soft smile, surprised at how naturally we’d slipped into talking.

His face lit up. “Me too! I was also born in 98. That’s crazy–maybe we can be friends?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, let’s talk comfortably. No more ‘sunbae-nim,’ okay?”

“Deal.” He nodded, eyes sparkling.

After a few more minutes of small talk and comfortable silence, Hyunsang sat forward in his chair and reached for the control panel, switching gears entirely. “Alright. Do you have any ideas yet? Let’s start by exploring some themes or concepts.”

“I do, actually,” I said, rummaging through my messenger bag until I found a small stack of folded papers. “I wrote down a few drafts and concepts last night. They're kind of rough, but here.”

He took the five pages from me with careful hands, like he was holding something fragile. His gaze skimmed the first page, his brow furrowing slightly. “Hmm... a song about Jeju and the idea of home. That’s really sweet, but kind of overdone lately.”

He moved on to the second. “A ballad disguised as a karaoke anthem,” he read aloud with a curious tilt of his head. A grin tugged at his lips. “That actually sounds really fun. This could be something.”

I watched him closely as he read through each idea. Every now and then he smiled, sometimes let out a quiet chuckle. When he reached the third one, he outright laughed.

“A song about tangerines?” he asked, grinning up at me. “That’s very... unique. Very niche.”

I shrugged with a grin. “It came to me when I was peeling one at 3 a.m. There’s some kind of poetry in citrus.”

He turned to the fourth sheet. “A simple ballad. We could never go wrong with a classic,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Then he reached the last page–the messiest one. It was scribbled with scattered thoughts, half finished melodies, and only one full lyric line. A chaotic swirl of emotion I hadn’t dared to fully organize yet. I watched his expression shift, growing unreadable. He stared at the page for a long time, not saying a word.

“Hyunsang?” I asked gently, unsure what he was thinking.

He finally looked up, his eyes brighter, a little glassy. “This is it. I think this is the one. It suits you. It has something the others don’t.”

I blinked, surprised. “Are you sure? I mean... I only managed to write one full line. The rest is just word salad. A normal person might think I belong in an asylum after looking at that page.”

He let out a breathy laugh but didn’t break eye contact with the sheet. “Yeah. But it’s honest. It’s raw. It’s feeling. That one line is like a thread–you just need to pull it, and the whole story will unravel. I can hear it already.”

Something about the way he spoke–quiet but certain–made my chest tighten. He saw it. He understood it in a way even I hadn’t yet.

“Okay,” I said softly, heart suddenly pounding in a way that felt like possibility. “Let’s work on this.”

He nodded, already reaching for his keyboard and opening his laptop. “We’re going to make something unforgettable. I can feel it.”

And just like that, the studio air shifted. The hesitation was gone. It was just us, a beat of shared excitement, and a blank track waiting to be filled with something real.

We’d spent the day piecing everything together, melodies, fragments of old feelings, half formed verses pulled from late night musings. Together, Hyunsang and I had organized the memories, sifted through the noise, and found a shape for the song. All that remained now was the hardest part–organizing the lyrics.

He’d told me he wouldn’t touch the words until I laid down my version first. “It’s your solo,” he’d said, “so your voice should come through first. I’ll just polish it after, if needed.”

I appreciated that more than I could put into words. The trust. The space. But that also meant the pressure was mine to carry.

Now I sat at my desk, the same one I’d written the night before, though tonight it felt different. Like something sacred. My trusted pen lay in my hand, worn smooth from years of restless fingers. My notepad–creased, stained with coffee rings, and bursting with scraps of ideas–was open in front of me. A blank page stared back, taunting and full of promise.

I hadn’t slept the night before. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest. Thoughts circled relentlessly–images, melodies, pieces of dialogue from memories I’d tried to forget and feelings I hadn’t known how to say out loud until now. I could still hear the last chords we’d recorded ringing in my ears like an unfinished sentence.

My fingers hovered over the paper. I thought of the line I’d written yesterday. The one Hyunsang had said could anchor the whole song. That single lyric was raw, almost too raw. But maybe that was the point. Maybe this song wasn’t supposed to be perfect. Maybe it just had to be honest.

The rain had started again outside. Soft, rhythmic taps against the windowpane. It felt like the world was giving me a beat to follow. I breathed in deeply, closed my eyes, and let the feeling settle in my chest.

And then, I began to write.

And after I was done, I tear the page, crumple it and toss it. Wow that was bad.

I have no ideas. I don’t know how to go ahead with this. I feel like I am stuck.

I try to recall what jihoon hyung told me anytime I got stuck or writer's block. I close my eyes and take deep breaths slowing down my breathing. I try to think of the last thing in my head when wrote the draft last.

I don't know at which point of this I fell asleep, right there on that desk. Maybe exhaustion finally caught up to me.

I see black and then hear rain. I see myself standing in the rain. Where am I?

Then I see her–Sienna. I see us after are first kiss. I see her rejecting me. Maybe I should have given up then itself. Then the scene shifts to our day in the beach. She looks so happy. I see my memories playback. Is this revenge for me abandoning her. I probably deserve this.

I wake up to a sound of something falling. My pen. Must have rolled down the table. I get up and stare at tear stain on notepad page. I am not sure if I should write this but I still pick up the pen from the floor and begin.

I only watch you
From the past–
From what we were.
A reflection.
A different "us."
It hurts–
yeah, it hurts.

I take a deep breath to steady myself.

Seasons changed.
I didn't notice right away.
And then we were just–
Different.
Distant.
Still on the same calendar,
But not the same day.

This is going to be hard.

Very hard.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

"Seungkwan-ah! What do you want for your birthday tomorrow?" Jun hyung asked, slinging an arm around my shoulder like I was some little kid on his way to get ice cream. His smile was wide, playful, teasing, and annoyingly impossible to resist.

I blinked at him for a second, trying to keep my face neutral. But I cracked.

"The polite thing to say here is 'nothing,'" I replied with a dramatic sigh, "but since you guys are asking, and since I know you love me deeply and unconditionally... I wouldn't mind a vinyl turntable. Preferably vintage. Oh, and a curated vinyl set, jazz and 90s ballads, none of that mass market stuff. Also, a karaoke machine. With real reverb, not that budget echo nonsense. And–" I paused, grinning, "that Dior saddle bag that Shua hyung has, but in navy. Navy suits me better."

Jun hyung doubled over laughing. "Yah, you little brat," he wheezed. "You have taste, I'll give you that."

"This punk," Seungcheol hyung muttered darkly from across the room, scrunching his nose like I'd just told him I wanted to adopt a pet tiger.

"You asked," I shot back, pouting exaggeratedly. "I was just being honest. Jeez, there's no appreciation for honesty these days. This generation. So judgmental."

Mingyu snorted from where he was collapsed on the floor, towel over his head. "You are this generation."

"Exactly," I said, pointing like I'd won an argument. "We're a mess. Buy me the bag."

They all groaned, but I could tell they were trying not to smile. It felt good, the way laughter stitched the exhaustion back into something tolerable. We were sore and drenched in sweat, aching from Youngjun hyung's demonic choreography, but in moments like this, I remembered why I did this. Also it helped distract me from a certain someone.

Practice had ended, and I'd asked Jihoon hyung to come with me to the studio. The solo was finally done. I wanted him to hear it. No, needed him to. I didn't say it out loud, but if he didn't like it, I probably would scrap the entire thing.

When we arrived, Hyunsang was already there, quietly sipping from a paper coffee cup. He stood when he saw us and gave a polite bow. Jihoon hyung returned it with his usual cool nod. They knew each other, and of course, respected each other.

We exchanged some brief small talk, but I stayed quiet, distracted. Fidgeting. My fingers couldn't stop tugging at the hem of my hoodie. When they both finally sat Hyunsang at the keyboard, Jihoon in the chair by the soundboard. I took the couch.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting out a slow breath as the room dimmed around me. My heart felt like it was knocking on the inside of my ribcage, unsure whether to escape or just settle in for a panic attack.

This happened everytime I listened to this song.

All I could think was–Please, not her again.

Sienna.

Every time this song played, she returned. Her laughter, the way she used to lean her head against my shoulder in quiet spaces. Her perfume, stuck in the sleeves of my hoodies for days after we broke up. The memory of her voice calling my name like it was the only thing in the world that made sense.

She haunted this track. Every lyric. Every note. I tried to bury her in harmonies, in reverbs and delays, but she kept surfacing like something sacred I wasn't allowed to forget.

I rubbed my palms against my knees, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the studio.

"You ready?" Jihoon hyung asked, his voice unusually gentle.

I nodded without opening my eyes. "Yeah."

Hyunsang pressed play.

Little by little
The pooling rainwater
Belongs to the day we spent together
On the streets, on the streets
Every step I take
Is actually leading me towards you

Even if you're far away, I'll always Believe that we are still together

The memories of a certain day
The "us" of a certain time
Come pouring down again
Come pouring down again
Could I get just a little bit closer to you?
I only watch you
From within my memories

Little by little
The changing seasons
Mark the day we grew distant

Even if you're far away, I'll always Believe that we are still together

The memories of a certain day
The "us" of a certain time
Come pouring down again
Come pouring down again
Could I get just a little bit closer to you?
I only watch you
From within my memories

I stumble
Then fall again
But at the end of a day I endured

I only watch you
From within my memories
The reflection of myself
The changed version of "us"
It hurts a little
But still, I'm okay

But still, I'm okay

Am I okay though?

"Okay, one solo down. Now I've got eleven more to go through."

Jihoon hyung's voice cut through the last trailing note of my song, pulling me back from wherever my thoughts had drifted.

I blinked, still staring at the blank monitor ahead, then turned to him.

"Is it... okay?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but I couldn't hide the way my voice dipped, uncertain.

He glanced at me with that rare, warm half smile of his. "It's more than okay. It's amazing. It fits you. As if it came out of your skin. You didn't embarrass me." He added the last part in a teasing tone, but I knew it was his version of 'I'm proud of you.'

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and smiled, small but real.

"Thanks, hyung."

On the way home, I listened to the song again.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

The melody nestled in my head like a secret. I hummed it under my breath as I tapped in the code on our apartment door keypad.

The familiar beep sounded just as someone called out, "You're back? How did Jihoonie react?"

I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. "Hyung! What are you doing here?"

Shua hyung stood in the hallway in his soft gray hoodie, looking way too comfortable to be a surprise guest.

Before he could answer, Jeonghan hyung emerged from the kitchen, wiping his wet hands on a dishcloth. "I asked him to come. I needed help with something. Go wash up and eat dinner. We waited for you."

He said it so casually, but his eyes lingered on me a second longer than necessary. He is hiding something from me but I am too tired to be bothered by it right now.

I nodded and mumbled something like "Okay," before heading to my room to change.

By the time I returned, the food was already set. Warm soup, rice, side dishes. All comfort food. But the two eldest were oddly quiet as we ate. Usually they'd bicker or tease me about something–my hair, my appetite, my 'idol attitude'–but tonight the room was still. Not tense. Just... quiet.

I didn't have the energy to fill the silence. I was too tired. My muscles ached from practice, and my brain was still orbiting around the song like it couldn't let go. So we ate, the sound of clinking chopsticks and distant city traffic filling the silence.

After dinner, I barely managed to shower before I collapsed into bed. The ache in my shoulders was sharp, the kind of exhaustion that settles deep into your bones. But I didn't want sleep yet.

I reached for my earpods and popped them in. On my phone screen, the title stared back at me like a whisper.

Raindrops.

I hit play and closed my eyes.

Loop mode.

Let it play through the night.

The opening chords washed over me gently, like water trickling down a windowpane. My voice followed, soft, vulnerable. I listened. Once. Twice. Again. The same line kept echoing in my head.

But still, I'm okay.

But still, I'm okay.

But still, I'm okay.

But was I?

I didn't know. I really didn't know.

The music kept playing, wrapping around me like a lullaby, but sleep never fully took me. Just this blurry in between place where time didn't exist, where emotions floated and curled and refused to land.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you, Seungkwanie–"

I jolted awake.

The light was soft, coming in through the slightly open door to the hallway. My earpods were still in, the music still looping faintly.

But still, I'm okay.

I blinked and looked around, disoriented.

Jeonghan hyung and Shua hyung stood at the foot of my bed, holding a tiny chocolate cake with a single flickering candle. Their faces were warm with smiles.

I tried to sit up and push my blanket down, only to feel the strange chill of dampness beneath my cheek. I reached up and touched my face. Then looked at my pillow.

Wet.

Tear stained.

Had I been... crying in my sleep?

The thought made my chest tighten. I didn't even remember dreaming.

"Hey," Shua said gently, noticing the change in my expression. "You okay?"

I swallowed, nodding slowly.

"Yeah," I said, the words automatic. I tried to smile. "I'm okay."

They both watched me closely for a beat longer, but didn't press.

Jeonghan stepped forward and held out the cake. "Make a wish, birthday boy."

I stared at the candle for a moment. The flame flickered, small and quiet.

Please, I wished. Let me mean it the next time I say I'm okay.

I blew out the candle.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan sat cross legged on the floor, chopsticks poking into the soft, rich chocolate cake on the table in front of him. A bite melted on his tongue, sweet and bittersweet at the same time. He chewed slowly, gaze flicking between the two older members seated opposite him.

"I knew you both were hiding something," he muttered around his next bite, "but I didn't think it was this."

Joshua blinked. "What else would it be?"

Seungkwan hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly like he was still trying to read something unspoken in the room. "I don't know... a secret relationship or something. Cuz you spend a lot of nights with him." He paused, embarrassed, and tried to wave it away. "Forget it. I don't know why I thought that."

For a moment, silence hovered.

Jeonghan's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?!"

Joshua let out a quiet laugh while Jeonghan smacked Seungkwan's arm in playful exasperation, cheeks tinged faintly pink. "Yah, Boo Seungkwan!" he scolded, making soft sputtering noises that only made Seungkwan pout dramatically.

"Ow," he mumbled with a pout, rubbing his arm as the three of them laughed quietly together.

The cake dwindled between them, spoonful after spoonful disappearing into a comfortable silence. The clock on the wall ticked toward 12:45 a.m., but none of them moved to get up. Instead, the quiet wrapped around them like a blanket.

Then, gently, Jeonghan broke the stillness.

"What were you dreaming about earlier?" he asked, voice low, only meant for Seungkwan. Joshua had stepped into the kitchen, the sound of water running and dishes clinking faintly in the background. "And don't lie," he added, soft but firm. "I saw your pillow."

Seungkwan sat back a little, the warmth of the food now giving way to something cooler settling in his chest.

"Just... thinking about a certain someone."

Jeonghan's brow lifted with a knowing hum. "Even though I already know the answer, I'm still going to ask. Does that certain someone's name start with an 'S'?"

Seungkwan gave a tired smile. He tried to be playful, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You know the answer."

Jeonghan's expression softened immediately. "Are you okay?"

Seungkwan looked down at his hands resting in his lap.

"I wished... when I blew out the candle... that the next time someone asked me that question, I'd answer it honestly." He inhaled deeply. "But the truth is... I can't have the answer I want and be honest."

He looked up, eyes glistening but dry. "So, here it is. I'm not okay, hyung. No... I'm not okay."

Without a word, Jeonghan reached over and cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing against Seungkwan's skin in a tender, circular motion. It wasn't to wipe away tears–there were none visible. It was simply to offer comfort. To say I see you, without speaking.

Seungkwan leaned into the touch ever so slightly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Why do I feel like this, hyung?" he whispered. "Why do I feel like I'm the one who was abandoned... when I was the one who left her first? I walked away. I made that choice. And the consequence to that was that she broke up with me. It was my fault. So why do I feel like my chest is collapsing every time I think of her?"

His voice cracked softly.

"I don't deserve to be sad. I don't deserve pity. I made the decision. I gave her up. So why do I feel like the one who lost everything?"

His tone was hollow, heavy, but his face remained composed. The tears, Jeonghan knew, only came in dreams and memories now. Seungkwan mourned in silence, in private corners where no one could see him break.

"It's not that simple," Jeonghan said gently. "Relationships... love... they're not that clean. It's not always about who left who. Sometimes it's about the reasons. About what you were going through. What you couldn't say."

He exhaled quietly. "I haven't seen Sienna in a long time, but I know she's hurting too. Anyone who knows either of you can see that."

Seungkwan looked up, his voice barely a whisper. "What do I do, hyung? What if I already messed it all up?"

Jeonghan didn't hesitate. "Talk to her."
He reached for Seungkwan's hand and squeezed it gently.

"You regret not being there for her, right? You think you don't deserve her anymore because you couldn't show up the way she needed. But that doesn't mean you stay silent. If you truly care, show up now. Talk. Apologize. Don't just sit in the wreckage pretending to be okay."

There was silence again–charged, trembling.

Then Seungkwan nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said, barely audible.

He got up and walked over to Jeonghan, crouching beside him before wrapping his arms around the older man in a warm, tight hug. He buried his face into Jeonghan's shoulder, as if all his weight could be held in that one embrace.

"Thank you for never leaving my side," he whispered. "For being the best roommate, the best big brother. For being the person I trust with the ugliest parts of me. Thank you for being you... even when I'm not me."

Jeonghan clung tighter, his breath hitching. "Don't make me cry, stupid," he said, voice cracking.

Just then, Joshua returned, drying his hands on a dishcoth. He paused at the doorway, catching the two in their emotional embrace.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Jeonghan looked up, eyes rimmed slightly red, and smiled.

"Come here," he said, opening one arm toward Joshua.

Joshua stepped into their little circle, letting himself be folded into the hug without a word. The three of them sat there for a moment, tangled in quiet warmth.

"I'm gonna do it," Seungkwan murmured into Jeonghan's shirt. "I'm gonna fix everything. Even if it takes time. Even if I'm scared."

Neither of them said anything. They just held him tighter.

The practice room was unusually festive that morning. Balloons bobbed gently from the corners of the mirrors, and a small table was set up near the center with a cake, candles, and an array of carefully wrapped presents. The members were buzzing around, giddy and conspiratorial, like little kids planning a surprise.

As soon as the door opened and Seungkwan stepped in, a chorus of voices erupted all at once.

"Happy Birthday, Seungkwan-ah!"

He barely had a second to process it before he was engulfed, scooped into a group hug that smelled like cologne, shampoo, and cake frosting. They kissed his cheeks, ruffled his hair, shouted over each other with birthday wishes, and shoved gift bags into his hands like over excited siblings.

"You guys–what–what is all this?!" he asked, overwhelmed, blinking rapidly as he took in the pile of gifts and the cake decorated with pastel colors and tiny dandelions, his favorite flower.

"These are your presents," Minghao stepped forward with his serene smile, gesturing toward four distinct gift bags. "Vinyl turntable and a curated vinyl set–from me, Mingyu, Hansol, and Jun. The karaoke machine you mentioned. That's from Dokyeom, Soonyoung, Dino, and Wonwoo. And then... Dior from Jihoon and Seungcheol."

Seungkwan's jaw dropped. He blinked, speechless for a moment, then gasped dramatically and clutched his chest. "Wait. Wait, wait. You guys actually bought me everything I said I wanted? I was joking! I didn't think you were actually listening–oh my god, you guys. This is too much. I can't take all this!"

Jihoon, ever the instigator, deadpanned, "Okay. Great. Then you can just keep the karaoke and we'll return the rest."

"Don't you dare touch anything!" Seungkwan squawked, clutching the bags like they were sacred. "These are mine now. No take backs!"

Everyone laughed as Seungkwan cradled his pile of gifts like a dragon hoarding treasure.

Jeonghan stepped forward then, eyes twinkling with something a little softer, a little more sentimental. "And this is the last gift. From me and Shua."

He handed Seungkwan a tiny black velvet box tied with a champagne colored ribbon. Seungkwan unwrapped it slowly, reverently, and when he opened it, the breath caught in his throat. Inside lay a sleek silver ring, minimal and clean, with a tiny embedded diamond that glinted in the light. Elegant, understated. Thoughtful.

He slipped it on wordlessly, his chest rising and falling as he tried to keep the emotion at bay. Then, one by one, he walked to each member and wrapped his arms around them tightly.

"Why?" he asked finally, voice cracking slightly under the weight of the moment. "Why go all out like this?"

Jeonghan gave a soft smile and gently brushed Seungkwan's hair away from his forehead. "What do you mean why? It's been a long time since we've seen this version of you. The real you. The Seungkwan who stopped hiding behind jokes and actually lets us in. We missed you. And we had to celebrate that. Not just your birthday but you coming back to us."

Seungkwan's heart squeezed. He opened his mouth to respond and was promptly interrupted by a loud thud and a high pitched yelp.

They all turned to find Mingyu splayed on the floor, one leg bent awkwardly under him and his hand clutched around his ankle.

"OW," he groaned. "What the hell did I trip over?!"

Wonwoo poked his head around him, unfazed. "Air. You tripped over air, bro."

"You absolute tree," Dokyeom cackled, helping him up.

An hour later, the party had taken a comedic detour as Seungkwan sat in the emergency room waiting area beside a sheepish Mingyu. Mingyu had a sprained ankle. Seungkwan had a half eaten piece of cake in a plastic container and a ridiculous story to tell.

"This is so not how I imagined spending my birthday," Seungkwan mumbled, flicking a crumb off his hoodie.

Mingyu snorted. "But it's a memorable one, right?"

Seungkwan looked at the ring on his finger, at the ridiculous man child beside him icing his ankle, and thought of all the people who showed up for him, emotionally and physically, with karaoke machines and vinyls and love that ran so deep it made his chest ache.

He smiled.

"Yeah. It really is."

Chapter Text

Sienna's POV

"Nurse Jang, don't I have an appointment with Sunoo today?" I ask, staring blankly at the door while waiting for my final patient. The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly forward, each second louder than the last. Fifteen minutes late. Just fifteen. But lately, even the smallest delays scraped at my nerves like sandpaper on raw skin.

"Why are they so late?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. My voice lacked the sharpness I used to carry. It was flat, like a radio playing with the volume turned all the way down.

Before Nurse Jang could respond, the door opened with a soft knock, and Dr. Choi stepped in.

She was holding a clipboard close to her chest, the way someone might hold a secret they weren't ready to share. Her face, usually warm and composed, was set in something colder. Stern. Like glass that might shatter with the wrong word.

"Sienna, could you follow me for an important discussion?" Her tone was clipped, controlled.

I blinked. "I have one more patient, Doctor. After that–"

"No, Sienna. Right now."

She didn't raise her voice, but the firmness in her tone left no room for negotiation.

I stood up automatically. Not because I felt compelled. Just because my body responded before I could think about it. If I wasn't so hollow inside these days, I might have felt dread. Or fear. Or something.

The hallway was long and silent as we walked side by side, and I suddenly became aware of how quiet the hospital felt in that moment. Like the building was holding its breath.

Dr. Choi opened the door to her office and gestured for me to sit. I obeyed without a word.

The air felt heavier here. The windows were closed, the blinds half drawn, and the soft hum of the AC was the only sound. She sat across from me and opened the folder she was carrying. Her eyes, sharp behind her glasses, softened just slightly when they met mine.

"Sienna," she began, "we've received some complaints recently. Concerns about your bedside manner. Reports from the staff noting... changes in your behavior. At first, I assumed it was temporary, stress maybe, but then..."

She paused. That kind of pause people use when they're trying to cushion a blow.

"We got a very serious report from a nurse who works closely with you. Enough to make me act immediately."

I stared at her, her words falling into my ears like pebbles into a well. Distant. Echoing. Not quite reaching the bottom.

"I've been watching you, Sienna. And this... this isn't you. The way you've been lately. Distant, forgetful, cold... It's not like you. And I say this as your colleague and as someone who cares... I don't think you're okay."

I felt the weight of her gaze pressing on me. I should have looked away. Instead, I just sat there, hands resting in my lap, fingers numb.

"You're not in a condition to continue seeing patients. Not right now."

"What do you mean?" I asked, not out of confusion. But because the words hadn't quite registered as real yet.

Dr. Choi sighed, a long, tired exhale. "I'm taking you off the schedule, effective immediately. I've scheduled an urgent appointment for you with a therapist. Until they clear you for return, you're not permitted to work."

I blinked. "So you're suspending me."

"It's not punishment," she said gently. "It's protection. For you. And for your patients. You're not connecting with them anymore, Sienna. You're not here. And in this profession, we can't afford detachment."

I laughed, but it was humorless. Dry. "A shrink. Of course." I leaned back in my chair, looking at the ceiling like it might offer me an escape. "I suppose this was bound to happen eventually."

She didn't argue. That silence stung more than any lecture could.

I stood up. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else.

"I'll pack my things."

She didn't stop me. Just gave me a sad smile. "Take care of yourself, Sienna."

Packing was mechanical. I didn't look at the photos or the gifts from grateful families or the old coffee mug with a chip on the rim. Mihee hovered around, saying comforting things I didn't process. Her voice was warm, but my insides were ice. It didn't matter what she said.

None of this mattered.

Then the pager went off.

Both of us turned toward it instinctively, like trained animals.

Mihee froze for a moment, then darted out.

I didn't move.

Not until the door burst open again a few minutes later, and she stumbled in, out of breath like she'd run a marathon.

"Sunoo," she gasped. "He's been admitted to the emergency room."

Time slowed.

"What?" I asked, but it didn't sound like my voice. The room tilted slightly, but I stayed upright.

Mihee's eyes shimmered. "He collapsed. He's being stabilized now, but they're calling for immediate attention."

I didn't think.

I didn't grab my coat.

I didn't stop to ask questions.

My body was running before my brain could catch up. The hallway blurred. My heart pounded against the walls of my chest.

Sunoo.

Somewhere beneath the thick fog of apathy, the ice cracked.

And I ran.

The emergency room was chaos wrapped in fluorescent lights and antiseptic air.

"Yang Sunoo, where is he?" I gasped as I reached the front desk, my badge swinging from my neck like it still meant something.

A nurse glanced up. "Admitted ten minutes ago. Pediatric ER, bay three. He's stable, but–"

I was already moving.

The world around me was muffled. Conversations blurred, the whir of machines, footsteps, and alarms all melting into white noise. I pushed past an intern, ignored the double takes. People knew. Word spreads fast in hospitals. And right now, I was the reason a child lay unconscious.

I reached the curtain and pulled it back.

There he was.

Sunoo. Pale, small. Too still. An IV taped to his arm. A monitor beeping steadily but too fast.

A doctor stood beside him. One I didn't recognize. He looked up when I entered and immediately furrowed his brows.

"You shouldn't be here," he said.

"I was his attending psychiatrist–"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" His words cut like ice. "We're running tox panels. His vitals crashed. We stabilized him, but if he had arrived even ten minutes later..."

My stomach turned. "It was the meds?"

"Yes. Likely overstimulation. Amphetamine toxicity. He shouldn't have been prescribed that dosage. Hell, from what we're seeing, he shouldn't have been on them at all."

The words didn't land properly. My mind was slipping sideways.

"He... he had ADHD symptoms," I whispered.

"Symptoms aren't diagnosis. This wasn't ADHD. This was anxiety. Or trauma related executive dysfunction. That boy was medicated for something he didn't have... and his body broke under it."

Then–
"Dr. Kang!"

The voice was sharp, pained.

I turned around.

His mother. Sunoo's mother. Eyes wild with terror, disbelief, and something far worse–betrayal.

She strode forward before I could speak.

And slapped me.

Hard.

My head whipped to the side, cheek stinging. Time froze.

"You said he had ADHD!" she screamed. Her voice cracked. "You said medication would help him. You said it was under control!"

"I–I don't know–"

"The other doctor told me," she choked out, her voice breaking into a sob. "A child with ADHD should never react like this. That means he didn't have it. That means you were wrong!"

Her hands hit my chest, not hard, but desperate. Weak fists beating against me as she crumbled, tears falling like rain.

"My boy could have died. Died. Do you understand that?" she sobbed. "Why did you do this to him? Why–why my baby–"

She collapsed into my chest, fists gone limp, her body heaving with grief. And I stood there, letting her fall apart against me.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't speak.

My world split open.

Everything cracked.

The sterile hospital walls warped and bent. My ears buzzed. I looked past her, past the bay, past the people.

I saw blood on my hands.

And I knew this was my fault.

"I'm sorry," I said, voice so soft it was barely air. "I'm so sorry."

I dropped to my knees on the linoleum floor. The cold didn't even register. I just wanted to beg for forgiveness until my knees hurt.

Tears spilled soundlessly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm–" My voice broke. "I should have never touched that file. I shouldn't have been allowed near him."

I stayed there, crouched low like a child, trembling under the weight of guilt I couldn't carry anymore. I don't know how long I stayed there. A minute. An hour. Time didn't exist in the silence of shame.

When I finally stood and turned around, I saw him.

Seungkwan.

Standing just outside the ER bay. Eyes wide. Looking at me like I was someone he didn't know.

And maybe I wasn't.

Because when I saw his face, it all shattered.

The glass wall I'd built around myself, the mask of professionalism, the numbness I had clung to for months–Gone.

He looked at me with sadness.

And I couldn't take it.

Because he saw me.

And I was a monster.

I ran.

Out of the ER.

Past the nurses. Past the waiting rooms. Past security.

I heard someone shouting my name, but I didn't stop.

I ran down the corridor. Through the automatic doors.

The outside air was sharp. Cold. Night had fallen, and the world looked different. Too bright. Too fast.

I crossed the parking lot in a blur. My chest ached, but not from running.

Thoughts screamed inside me.

I hurt people. I ruin them.

I should have never become a doctor.

I have no purpose. No meaning.

All I do is cause pain.

I'm the mistake. I'm the problem.

I should disappear.

The streetlight ahead turned green.

I didn't stop running.

Horns blared.

Headlights surged forward.

And then–
Everything turned white.

Chapter Text

Sienna lay on the cold edge of the road, her knees scraped raw, her palms bracing against the rough pavement. Her chest heaved, lungs barely catching air, but she didn't move. Couldn't.

Something–or someone–had shoved her out of the way.

She blinked, trying to focus, her vision fragmented like broken glass catching streetlight. Her ears rang violently, an endless scream of static. Distant horns and shouts were muffled, lost beneath the roar in her head.

Then a shape came into view... falling to his knees beside her.

Seungkwan.

He was there, stumbling to his knees beside her, his face wild with panic. His mouth moved in frantic shapes, but she couldn't hear anything. Nothing reached her through the ringing in her head.

But she saw it.

That look.

Fury. Just for a second. White hot and sudden.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he mouthed, his voice too loud even though she couldn't hear it.

His eyes were blazing, brows furrowed deep with panic. His chest rose and fell like he'd sprinted a mile. For one fleeting heartbeat, he wasn't gentle. He was furious.

Because he'd nearly watched her die.

Because she'd just... given up.

But the anger passed fast. It wasn't real. Not the kind that stays. It was the kind that comes from terror, from helplessness. From the sick, gut deep fear that he might've lost her before he could even reach her.

And then it was gone.

His face collapsed, all sharp lines and anger melting into something stricken, something breaking.

He was just afraid.

His hands came to her face, cupping her chin with shaking fingers, tilting her head gently toward him. He scanned her eyes, her lips, her temple for any sign of bleeding, of concussion, of life. Then his palms moved to her arms, brushing gently over the sleeves of her coat, his touch feather light as he checked her for broken bones, for bruises.

"You're okay," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "You're okay. Please be okay."

Sienna didn't respond. Her eyes didn't focus. She was barely there.

Seungkwan let out a breath that sounded like it had been caught in his chest for years. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her body, holding her like if he let go for even a second, she might disappear forever.

She didn't hug him back. Her arms hung useless at her sides.

But he held on anyway.

And he would not let her go.

Seungkwan swallowed hard and helped her to her feet, one hand bracing her back, the other gripping her hand tightly. He didn't speak. What was there to say? Words were useless against this kind of silence.

He led her across the hospital parking lot, his steps hurried but steady. When they reached the car, he opened the passenger door and guided her in. She didn't protest, didn't even blink when he reached across her to pull the seatbelt over her body and click it in place.

The way he touched her was careful. Reverent. Like she was something breakable that no one had cared for in a long time.

"Don't do that again," he whispered, his voice hoarse as he lingered there for a second too long. "Please."

Still, she didn't respond. Her gaze was hollow.

He exhaled a shaking breath, closed the door, and stepped back. Outside the car, he pulled out his phone and made a call, his voice tight and fast.

He ended the call and got into the driver's seat. His hands trembled as he gripped the wheel, jaw clenched so tight it looked like he might snap. His eyes flicked toward her, just once. She hadn't moved an inch.

The ride was silent. Void of words but not desolate.

Silence didn't mean peace. The air between them felt electric with unspoken panic. Guilt. Desperation.

Seungkwan didn't turn on the radio but his phone had been connected to the bluetooth. His unreleased song raindrops started playing. He was so lost in thought he hadn't even realised.

The music continued playing in loop just as he had set it before his entire world came crashing down. He didn't notice it but to Sienna... that melody had been grounding. It brought her back to that car from whatever place her head was at. The song imprinted on her mind.

He didn't speak. He just drove, fast but smooth, his focus razor sharp and full of fury at the world, at the hospital... at himself.

Mostly at himself.

When they reached her apartment, Sienna moved like she was underwater. She reached out and typed her door code with mechanical precision, the numbers clicking softly beneath her fingers.

He should have let her go in alone. But he didn't.

When the door clicked open, she stepped inside slowly, like she didn't quite recognize her own home anymore.

And Seungkwan followed her in.

Not out of politeness, or even instinct but necessity.

Because leaving her alone now felt like leaving her at the edge of that road all over again.

She paused inside the doorway. Her coat still clung to her. Her shoes were scruffed. Her eyes scanned the apartment like she wasn't sure if it was real.

Behind her, Seungkwan gently closed the door, the soft click echoing in the stillness.

She didn't speak. Neither did he.

But he stayed.

Slowly, wordlessly, Seungkwan reached out and took her hand–her cold, limp hand–and gently guided her down to sit on the wooden floor of the apartment. She winced as her knees bent, the sting of the scrapes flaring up now that the adrenaline had started to wear off.

"I've got you," he whispered, more breath than sound.

She hadn't said a single word since he'd pulled her out of traffic. Her lips were pale, her eyes hollow.

Seungkwan lowered his gaze and reached for her shoes. They were muddy, the laces soaked and frayed, one shoe scuffed raw where she'd hit the asphalt. With careful hands, he undid each knot, slow and steady, not rushing even when his fingers trembled.

He slipped the shoes off gently, as though they might hurt her if handled wrong.

Then, with one arm around her waist, he helped her to her feet again, his grip firm but never forceful, and guided her to the couch. She followed like a ghost, silent and unresisting.

Once he was sure she was seated comfortably, wrapped in a throw blanket and propped with a pillow, he disappeared into the apartment. Sienna's eyes followed him, detached but present, watching as he moved through the space like he knew it.

From the kitchen, to her bedroom, then the bathroom, and back again. Searching for supplies, grabbing towels, water, antiseptic. She could hear cupboards opening, drawers sliding, footsteps muffled against the floor.

It was surreal. Watching someone care like that. For her.

He returned with a small bowl of warm water, a white towel slung over his arm, and a bottle of antiseptic. Kneeling in front of her, he dipped the towel into the water, his hands steady now.

"I'm going to clean this, okay?" he said softly, almost afraid to break the stillness in the room.

He began dabbing at her scraped knee with the wet towel, so gently it barely touched her skin but still, she flinched. The cold stung, and the raw wound pulsed with pain. Her breath hitched. She didn't stop him.

Seungkwan didn't pause. His brows were furrowed, his mouth a tight line, completely focused. He handled her as if she were porcelain, like one wrong move might shatter her.

He spoke not with words... but everything in the way he touched her said it.

I'm here. I'm not leaving.

Once he was sure the wound was clean, he reached for the antiseptic. He poured a little onto the dry corner of the towel, then gently took Sienna's hand in his, holding it tightly.

"Hold on to me," he said, almost inaudible.

Sienna nodded faintly. The moment the antiseptic touched her skin, she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut. The pain was sharp and sudden, a jolt that broke through the numb fog.

She groaned quietly and instinctively tightened her grip on his hand, clutching it like it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing.

"I know," Seungkwan murmured, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. "I know it hurts."

When he was done, he set everything aside with practiced care and stood. She watched him, still silent, still frozen.

But his hands were already moving, his mind already thinking ahead.

He walked quickly to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and began filling the tub with hot water. He found a small glass jar of bath salts beneath her sink and poured them in, watching them dissolve and cloud the water. The steam rose around him, filling the room with a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus.

He stood for a moment, letting the warmth soak into his skin, grounding himself. His chest felt tight. Too tight. Seeing her like this. So small, so far away in her own mind was tearing something in him apart.

And still, he wasn't going to stop. Not until he brought her back.

Not until she realised he was there.

Sienna heard the water stop and then Seungkwan appeared again. He took her by hand into the bathroom.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. "Do you need help... with your clothes?"

No response.

Not even a flicker.

He waited a moment longer, then nodded faintly, more to himself than her. "Okay. I'll wait outside. Just call me if you–"

A whisper of warmth touched his wrist.

His breath caught.

It was barely anything. A light, feathery brush of skin, just the heel of her palm grazing him. But it stopped him in his tracks. He looked down to see her hand, trembling, stretched out just enough to reach him.

Her fingers curled back immediately, as if she hadn't meant to ask for anything. But she didn't have to.

He turned around to face her, eyes meeting hers for just a second. Her lip trembled. The moment collapsed into something delicate and difficult. Not quite intimacy. Not quite dependence. But something heavier.

Without a word, he stepped closer.
Sienna tried to undo the buttons on her shirt, but her scraped palm trembled too much to manage the movements. She looked down, ashamed, but he didn't flinch. He simply moved in closer and gently took over.

They didn't speak as he carefully navigated the fabric around her wounds. His touch always hovering just above her skin, slow and calculated. They worked in silence, both of them cautious, as if the moment itself might rupture if they moved too fast.

Her breathing hitched when the cloth of her sleeve brushed against the fresh scrape along her arm.

"I've got it," he whispered, gently lifting the fabric away and folding it off her shoulder.

It wasn't easy. It took time. Every article of clothing had to be considered, angles shifted, motions stilled. His hands never lingered. His eyes never wandered. It was like undressing a soul more than a body. Peeling away the layers of shock and shame and silence that clung to her like armor.

Eventually, she stepped into the tub, wincing as the heat met her bruised skin. The lavender scented steam curled around her like a veil. She lowered herself slowly, breathing out in sharp little exhales, until the water came up to her collarbone.

Neck deep, surrounded by warmth, her body finally stopped shivering.

Seungkwan knelt beside the tub, his hand still resting lightly on the edge.

"Can I trust you enough to leave you alone for a moment?" he asked softly, his voice thick wth concern.

For the first time that night, she looked up. Really looked at him.

Her eyes, red rimmed and hollow, found his. There was no mask in her gaze. Just exhaustion and apology and something else. Something fragile. Trust, maybe. Or whatever was left of it.

She gave a small nod.

And Seungkwan nodded back.

He rose slowly to his feet. "I'll be just outside," he said, gently. "I'll keep the door open. Call me if you need anything."

Then he turned and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar as the soft scent of lavender drifted into the hallway. As he stepped away, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to breathe past the knot in his throat.

He had things to do–cleanup, laundry, maybe find something warm for her to wear. But part of him stayed there, on the bathroom floor, beside the girl in the water who looked like she was drowning even while floating.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan's POV

I walk into Sienna's bedroom quietly, careful not to make too much noise. The room is dimly lit, curtains still drawn, a stale kind of stillness lingering in the air, like it hasn't been truly lived in for weeks. I head straight to her closet. She's going to need clean clothes, something soft that won't irritate the raw skin on her knees or sting against the bruises beginning to bloom on her arms.

I rifle through the shelves until I find them–her favorite pajamas. Light blue, cotton soft, with little teddy bears printed all over. The top is loose, the shorts even looser. She used to wear them on Sundays, the days we'd spend bickering over what to order for dinner or which movie to watch. Just seeing them again hurts a little, like nostalgia filtered through guilt.

I fold the pajamas carefully and place them on the chair beside her bed.

Then I glance around the room. The mess catches up with me all at once. The unmade bed, the pile of worn clothes in a corner, a water bottle long emptied out on the floor. A strange ache builds in my chest. This room used to be full of her. It feels abandoned now, like she stopped being at home in her own space.

Without overthinking, I get to work. I strip the bed and change the sheets, pulling out the softest comforter she owns, the one I know she used to curl into on bad days. I fluff the pillows, smooth out every corner of the blanket. The bed shouldn't feel like a hospital.

Then I collect her scattered laundry and toss it into the basket. I open the curtains slightly to let the afternoon light bleed in, just enough to soften the edges of the room. I crack open a window. Fresh air. She needs that too. Something in the room starts to shift.

I head out toward the kitchen but pause at the bathroom door, where the light still spills out in a yellow haze. The door is slightly ajar. I glance in, not stepping closer. Just enough to make sure she's still okay. She hasn't called for me.

In the kitchen, I open the fridge and wince. It's filled with forgotten takeout boxes, limp vegetables, and milk that's long past saving. I start pulling everything out, making a mental note of what I'll need to buy later. It's clear–she hasn't been eating well. Or caring. The fridge feels like a mirror of her mind right now. Neglected. Exhausted.

I spot a few usable ingredients and know what I'll make.

Before I begin, I hear the bathroom door creak open. My body tenses. I glance over my shoulder to see her, hair damp, skin flushed from the warmth of the bath, moving slowly down the hallway. She's holding herself stiffly with the towel, shoulders drawn in. The sight makes my heart twist.

I want to run to her. Wrap her in another towel, carry her to bed if I have to. But she hasn't asked me to. And I've learned. I can't help her on my terms. She needs help but not like this.

I walk to her bedroom door and knock gently. "Need any help?" I ask, voice low but careful.

There's a long pause. Then, barely audible, "No."

It's not just a word. It's a whisper soaked in shame. I think back to that night we fought. She'd said so many things, hinted at needing me, needing someone. I didn't listen. I was too angry. I thought space was what she needed. I didn't realize she was asking me to stay.

So now, I listen. To everything. Every syllable, every breath.

By the time she emerges again, wrapped in her favorite pajamas, I've already finished tidying and started vacuuming. She looks smaller somehow, like the edges of her have dulled. Fragile.

I rush to her side, gently guiding her to sit on the couch. She doesn't resist, just moves like a marionette, limbs slow and careful. I bring over the proper first aid kit this time, opening it on the coffee table in front of her. I kneel and dress her wounds. Her skin is mottled, bruises forming purple halos on her pale legs. I'm as careful as I can be.

"What do you want to eat?" I ask, voice soft, trying to fill the silence that's swallowing us.

She says nothing. Just stares down at her hands. I don't expect an answer, not really. I already know.

"Porridge?" I say after a moment. "Always your go to when you weren't feeling well. Remember that time you got the flu and still tried to work? You ate porridge for five days straight. How does that sound?"

Still nothing. But her shoulders dip slightly. A subtle ease.

I stand and head into the kitchen. "Stay there," I call gently over my shoulder. "I'll bring it to you."

As I start preparing the rice and broth, chopping up soft vegetables with practiced ease, I can feel her eyes on me. Not in a dramatic way, but like a ghost–quiet, constant, watching me breathe, watching me be here. Maybe she's wondering why. Maybe she's scared to ask.

But I'm not going anywhere.

Not this time.

I carried the bowl over on a tray, added a small glass of water, and placed it gently on the coffee table in front of her. She hadn't moved from the couch, knees drawn close, arms loosely wrapped around them. She looked up as I approached, her eyes dull, but they followed my hands. That was enough.

"Sienna," I said softly, crouching beside her again, "you need to eat something."

No response.

I didn't push. Instead, I took the spoon and scooped a small portion, bringing it close to her mouth. She didn't open her lips right away, but she didn't move away either. After a second, she leaned forward, took the bite.

That was all the permission I needed.

I continued feeding her slowly, spoonful by spoonful, giving her time to chew, to swallow, to breathe. Between each bite, I spoke. A one sided conversation that filled the quiet so it wouldn't swallow her whole.

"Remember when you said hospital food should be banned from existence?" I smiled faintly, watching the way her throat moved as she swallowed. "You used to sneak those little hot sauce packets into your pockets like contraband. You made me your spice mule."

Her lips twitched at the corners. Just barely.

I pretended not to notice. If I pointed it out, I might scare it away.

"And don't think I forgot how you used to brag about being unbeatable at Clue," I went on, scooping another spoonful. "You cheated. There's no way anyone guesses Professor Plum three rounds in a row without rigging the deck."

She looked at me for a brief moment. Not long. Not searching. Just... there. Like her eyes were touching the surface of the present without quite diving in.

I finished feeding her, set the tray aside, and brought the glass of water to her lips. She drank it slowly, her fingers trembling slightly as they held mine for support.

Once she was done, I rose and reached for her hands again. "Come on," I whispered. "Let's get you to bed."

She followed without a word. Her steps were slow but steady as I led her into the bedroom I'd just put back together. She sat on the edge of the bed like she wasn't sure what to do, so I knelt and helped her lie back against the pillows, pulling the comforter up to her chest.

I paused once she was tucked in, watching her face. She looked so small beneath the blanket. So exhausted.

I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, I felt her fingers close around my hand.

Not tightly.

Barely there.

But it stopped me cold. Just like she stopped me in the bathroom.

I turned back. She didn't look at me. Didn't speak. Just held on.

I crouched down beside her, and nodded. "I'm not going anywhere. I just need to make a quick call, okay?" I said gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'll be right back."

She let go.

I walked out of the room quietly and pulled out my phone.

Me: Can you do me a huge favor?

Jeonghan: If it involves murder, the answer is maybe.

Me: Can you pack some of my clothes and stuff? Bring them to Sienna's place. I'm staying here for a while.

Jeonghan: No questions. I'll be there in 30.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and was about to head back to her room when a soft buzzing broke the silence.

It came from the couch.

Her phone.

I walked over, saw the screen.

Mom calling...

Something in me clenched. I hesitated. My thumb hovered for a second before I answered.

"Hello?" I said carefully, voice low.
There was silence at first. Then, a woman's voice, trembling. "Sienna?"

"No, this is... a friend. Sienna's resting right now."

A pause. "Is she okay? I've been calling for days. She stopped replying. I didn't know what to do."

I glanced toward the hallway. "She's okay," I said softly. "She just... she's been going through something hard. But I'm here with her now."

A choked sob. "Please... tell her to call me. Or at least text. I don't care what happened. I just want to hear my daughter's voice. Please tell her I am sorry. Please ask her to talk to me once. Just once. I want to apologise."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "I will. I promise."

I ended the call and placed the phone gently on the coffee table. Then I stood there, staring at the screen, the echo of a mother's worry still ringing in my chest.

And for a moment, I hated that Sienna had gone through this alone.

I hated how close she'd come to giving up.

And I promised myself again–I won't let her disappear.

Not now.

Not ever.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan stepped quietly into Sienna's bedroom, the door creaking faintly as it closed behind him. He had pulled the curtains to help create cozy atmosphere to sleep. The only light in the room came from the soft golden glow of the lamp by her bedside, casting shadows across the sheets where she lay curled on her side, her back to the door.

He crossed the room in slow, measured steps, careful not to startle her. He plugged her phone into the charger, and set it silently on the nightstand. Then, lowering himself onto his knees beside her bed, he gently reached out.

"Do you need anything?" he asked softly. "I'm going to sit in that chair over there, alright? I'll be here. Don't worry. Just... tell me if you need anything."

There was a pause. The kind that stretched so long it made you wonder if you imagined the silence.

Then her voice broke through, hoarse and fragile, but unmistakably hers.

"Can you..." Sienna paused, and he turned his gaze to her instantly. "Sleep here... with me... please."

For a second, he didn't move. His eyes met hers, rimmed with fatigue and loss, but carrying a spark of something he hadn't seen in days. Vulnerability. A cry for comfort. For safety. His brows pulled together, his heart aching at the quiet desperation in her voice. Not pity. Never pity. Just a heavy, deep sadness he didn't have words for.

"Of course," he whispered.

He walked around the bed and climbed in gently on the opposite side, careful not to jostle the mattress. She didn't turn to face him. Her back stayed toward him, her body curled into itself as if protecting a wound too raw to expose.

So Seungkwan closed the distance slowly and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chest pressing softly against her spine. A back hug. Steady, grounding. His palm splayed gently across her stomach, holding her like something sacred. As if, if he let go, she might shatter into stardust and vanish.

He wanted to stay like that forever. Just them. Quiet. Breathing the same air. Her heartbeat, slow but alive, against his skin.

But something clawed at his mind. A question that had festered since the moment he saw her on that road. The moment he had sprinted, lungs screaming, and thrown himself into the path of oncoming traffic to reach her.

He swallowed hard.

"Sienna..." he began, his voice just above a whisper. "I know you aren't talking much right now, and I don't want to push you. But... can I ask you something? Just one question. Please."

There was a beat of silence. No resistance. So he continued, even though it tore him apart to speak the words.

"Did you..." His throat closed. He took a breath, then forced the rest out. "Did you mean to walk into traffic? Was that... by choice?"

His voice cracked halfway through. He closed his eyes, hiding his face in her shoulder, trying–failing–to hold it together. The thought of her choosing that fate made his stomach churn. Made the air feel thick and unbreathable.

She didn't answer.

The silence wrapped around him like a vice. One second. Then two. Then a full minute.

Then he sniffled. A soft, involuntary sound. And before he could stop it, he was crying. He tried to hide it. He tried to not make a sound. His arms trembled around her as he tried to stifle the sobs building in his chest, pressing his face into her clothes, hating that he was falling apart.

And then her voice.

"No," she said, firmly. Clearly. No hesitation.

Seungkwan froze. That one word. It was all he needed.

"No," she repeated, gentler this time. She was being honest. She didn't want to die. She would never. But right after the incident she hoped she had died. She would be lying if she said she didn't. She wasn't suicidal but she didn't care much about being alive either.

Something cracked inside him. He no longer hid that he was crying, no longer muffled his sounds of despair. The sob that tore out of his throat was raw and heavy, the sound of weeks of fear, of guilt, of helplessness finally finding release.

He held her tighter. His tears soaked into her clothes. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sienna didn't pull away. She just lay there, listening to his cries, letting them wrap around her like a lullaby full of grief and grace.

She started humming something. A tune. The melody to Raindrops, Seungkwan realised.

Just like in the car, the melody of that song seemed to ground. It prevented her mind from wandering to thoughts she didn't want think. She couldn't remember any lyric but the melody itself was enough.

It was still. The world outside moved on.

But in that room, two broken hearts held each other together.

When Seungkwan stirred awake, the sun was already climbing high in the sky, casting warm streaks of gold through the slightly parted curtains. The clock on the bedside table read past nine. His body felt heavy with sleep, the kind of deep, bone tired rest he hadn't felt in a long time. It took a moment for him to realize just how long they'd slept. Through the evening, through the night. It was the next day.

He stretched slightly, arm reaching across the mattress instinctively.

But it was empty.

His hand met only cool sheets where warmth had once been. His eyes snapped open.

"Sienna?" he called softly, his voice still thick with sleep.

She wasn't there. Not in his arms. Not in the bed. Not even in the room.

A slight wave of panic rolled through him, just for a second, until he heard the soft rustling of paper and the faint creak of the couch. He got up, padding out into the living room. There she was.

Sienna sat on the couch, legs curled under her, a long sleeved hoodie draped around her like a shield. Her eyes were locked on an envelope that rested on the coffee table before her, unmoving. She didn't look up as he entered.

"When did you get up?" Seungkwan asked, running a hand through his messy hair as he made his way into the kitchen, reaching for the kettle to make coffee.

She answered without looking away from the envelope. "Jeonghan came by last night. To drop off some of your things. You were still asleep, so I took them from him and left them there." Her gaze flicked to the corner where a small bag sat, still zipped. "You should freshen up first."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. "Did you not sleep after that?"

Her lips twitched in the smallest of smiles. "It's okay. I had some work to do."

He blinked. "Work?" The word made something uneasy shift in his chest. He turned toward her fully, his brows drawing together.

But before he could say anything, Sienna cut in, her tone light and deliberate. "Don't worry. Not that kind of work," she said with a soft, almost playful chuckle. It was the first sound resembling laughter he'd heard from her in days. But even that small joy didn't reach her eyes. The sparkle he used to see there was gone. Replaced by exhaustion... and something duller, harder to name.

"I'm going to get help," she said. "I've decided to start seeing a therapist. And..." She hesitated, taking a breath. "I'm going to take a break from work. A long break."

Seungkwan stared at her for a long moment, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected that. Not from the girl who threw herself into work even when she was crumbling inside. Not from Sienna, who had always used 'keeping busy' as her armor.

"Oh," was all he managed, quiet and caught off guard. "That's... that's good. I was going to make you do it anyway but can't believe you did that yourself."

He turned, trying to gather his thoughts, and headed to the bathroom to shower and change. As the warm water poured over him, he thought about her words. There was a quiet kind of courage in them. She wasn't just enduring anymore. She was choosing to stop. To heal.

By the time he stepped out, freshly dressed and ready, he had already messaged the company to ask for leave. He didn't expect much, but he begged for two days. Just two. That wouldn't be enough, not by a long shot. But he would take what he could get.

"I have to go to the company for a bit," he said as he grabbed his bag. "Just to apply for leave formally. Will you be okay on your own for a while?"

Sienna nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. It didn't reach her eyes. Not yet. He had noticed that her eyes always remained the same no matter what she said or did. They remained dull as if she had lost all sense of emotions. They looked like a void.

He was halfway to the door when she called after him.

"Seungkwan-ah."

He turned, hand on the doorknob.
Sienna stood now, picking up the envelope that had been on the table. She walked toward him, the letter held in front of her like an offering.

"Can you submit this for me at the hospital? Just give it to Nurse Jung Mihee. She'll know where to take it."

He paused and took the envelope slowly from her. His eyes flickered from the envelope to her face.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

"My letter of resignation," she said, and then hesitated, as if testing the weight of her own words. "I need a break... so..."

She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.

Seungkwan stared at the envelope for a heartbeat longer. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, to ask something. But he didn't.

Instead, he looked at her, really looked. Her eyes weren't empty but they weren't whole either. They were somewhere in between. A place where she was still climbing out of the dark.

"Okay," he said, simply. No questions. No judgment. Just a promise in a single word.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped toward the door again. "I'll be back," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Latest by three. Don't do anything too wild while I'm gone."

That earned him a small smile. A real one. Brief, but real.

As he stepped out into the sunlit hallway, envelope tucked safely in his bag, he realized something had changed.

Sienna wasn't okay yet. But she had taken a step.

And that step mattered.

Chapter Text

The road to healing wasn't straight, nor was it gentle. Seungkwan knew that all too well. He had walked its thorny path before, and now he found himself walking beside Sienna, helping her take one shaky step at a time.

In the first two days following the incident, he didn't leave her side. He became a quiet, constant presence. Washing dishes, folding laundry, making warm bowls of doenjang jjigae and soft omelettes even when she said she wasn't hungry. He never forced her to eat, just left the plate beside her with a small spoon and a softer smile.

Jeonghan came by once, lingering at the door, his eyes flicking between Seungkwan's drawn face and Sienna's tired figure curled on the couch. He didn't stay long, only asked how she was doing, and then squeezed Seungkwan's shoulder before leaving without a word. It was his silent way of saying–I see you. I know this is hard. I'm here if you need.

A week after the incident, Sienna finally attended her first therapy session.

The first session is always about getting to know the other person. It was the kind of session that didn't ask for answers. Just a willingness to be seen... to be accepted. A session where two strangers sat across from each other in a softly lit room, one gently asking questions, the other slowly learning to open the tightly locked door within themselves.

It was strange, unnerving even, for Sienna to sit on that couch. To be the one analyzed instead of the one doing the analyzing. The woman who once prided herself on emotional awareness and self control now found herself clenching her hands in her lap, unsure how to begin.

But Seungkwan had waited outside. Just his presence, quiet, unwavering, made it easier to walk through that threshold.

He couldn't stay with her around the clock anymore, but his devotion didn't falter. Every evening after work, he returned to her apartment. Eventually, it became more his home than his own. His toothbrush lived in her bathroom. Spare clothes filled one half of her closet. He knew her door code by heart and let himself in on late nights after practice, always careful not to wake her.

They weren't dating.

They didn't speak about the breakup. About the cruel words said in the heat of emotion. About the text that severed them. That conversation still sat in the silence between them, heavy and unspoken.

But it had to happen. And it did. One night, after one of Sienna's more emotionally brutal therapy sessions.

It had been a month since the accident.

Seungkwan returned late from practice, exhaustion tugging at his limbs. He slipped into the apartment quietly, set his bag down, and headed for the bathroom. A hot shower washed away the sweat. He towel dried his hair, changed into comfortable clothes, and walked barefoot toward the bedroom.

He expected to find her asleep.

But the moment he pushed open the door, he paused.

Sienna was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her chin rested atop her folded arms. The room was cloaked in darkness. She sat there like a shadow, still and silent.

He quietly turned on the bedside lamp. A warm glow pushed back the dark.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice gentle as he sat down beside her, mirroring her posture as he leaned against the headboard.

Her voice came slow, measured, almost as if each word carried weight. "We talked about New Year's at today's session." Her eyes remained fixed on the wall in front of them. "About you. About us. About how I treated you... like shit."

Seungkwan glanced sideways at her, the words hitting his chest like pebbles dropped into a still pond. She continued, her voice rough with guilt.

"How I broke your heart. How I never really apologized."

He exhaled softly. "I... I know we both said things. We were emotional. That fight, that night–" he trailed off, brushing his hair back. "Maybe we don't have to relive it now. Maybe we can move on."

But Sienna shook her head. She turned to face him, tears welling in her eyes, glistening under the warm light.

"No," she said. "We can't move on from it unless we face it. Unless we own it."

She was trembling. Seungkwan reached for her hand, and she let him take it. Her fingers wrapped tightly around his.

"I'm sorry, Seungkwan-ah. I'm so sorry. I don't think I've ever said that out loud. Not really. I'm sorry for not reaching out to you. For lying. For making you feel small. For pushing you away. For ending it when you were trying to hold on."

His eyes glistened too, and a sad, brave smile spread across his lips. He cupped her cheek, brushing away the tears.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered. "I'm sorry for not seeing that you were drowning. I'm sorry for walking away that night when I should've stayed. I should've fought harder. I should've come back sooner."

And then he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Right where the tear had fallen.

Their foreheads touched.

"We both made mistakes," he said quietly. "But now we're trying. Both of us. And I swear–I swear I won't let anything break us again. Not this time."

More tears slipped down Sienna's cheeks, but her smile was genuine now. It reached her eyes, the first time in so long that they shimmered with more than pain.

"That night, when everything fell apart... you told me you loved me." Her voice cracked slightly. "I never said it back."

"You don't have to–" he started, but she gently cut him off.

"I love you, Boo Seungkwan." She breathed the words like a promise, like an offering from a heart mending itself. "I love you so so much. You loved me when I was strong, and when I was crumbling. I became someone else. I became something small and broken. But you–you picked me up. You held on even when I cut you with my sharp edges. Thank you for not letting go."

He didn't cry, but his eyes shimmered as he pulled her into a fierce, grounding hug.

"You weren't broken glass," he murmured. "You were just a flower that had fallen from the tree. Still soft. Still whole in your own way. Even fallin' flowers are worth holding on to. I love you too. I love you so much."

They sat there wrapped in warmth and then Sienna started humming. The same song she sang whenever her therapy sessions felt too heavy. But this time she felt peace and closure while humming. It felt... happy.

"I listen to your song you know. I first heard it on the radio on the day of the incident. It sounded so... grounding. I have it memorised now." She paused for second and continued, "It's not that hard to guess who it's about. Whenever you come back from practice late at night, you probably think I am asleep. But I stay up just to listen to that song. Just to listen to your voice." Sienna says.

"That song was my only way to cope. I couldn't reach out to you so I did it through music. I should have done it in real life." He says regretfully.

"Then we wouldn't have this masterpiece would we?" She says.

Sienna let out a breathy laugh, and Seungkwan smiled into her shoulder.

"I forgot to wish you happy birthday," she said quietly, fingers still laced in his. "Probably not how you imagined spending it. Taking care of me."

Seungkwan laughed, warm and low. "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

She leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss to his lips. Just a whisper of a touch, but it held everything she felt, everything she hadn't been able to say until now.

"Happy birthday," she murmured.

He smiled into the next kiss. This one deeper, lingering. Neither of them in a rush to pull away. It had been so long since they had held each other like this. It felt like safety, not escape. Like love, not a lifeline.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, Seungkwan's voice dropped to a murmur. "We don't need to define it right now. We don't need labels or answers. Let's just... keep building. Day by day."

Sienna nodded. "Let's just be."

They curled beneath the covers, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them just as tightly. Outside, the world kept turning. But here-in the quiet, in the dark, in the shared breath between two people who had fallen apart and found each other again–there was peace.

And in that peace, Sienna took a deep breath. Full. Steady. Her first real breath in a long time.

She was still healing.

And she was no longer alone.

Maybe that was enough.

Maybe that was everything.

THE END

Chapter Text

It had been a quiet morning. The kind where the sunlight pours in just right and the air feels a little softer.

It had been six months since Sienna quit her job.

Sienna was curled up on the couch, knees tucked under her, a book resting on her lap but forgotten. Seungkwan had made them both tea and sat beside her, fingers absently tracing patterns along the back of her hand.

They didn't talk much these days. Not because there was nothing to say, but because there was no longer pressure to fill every silence. Some silences were good. Healing. Safe.

Still, there were some things that needed to be said.

"Sienna," Seungkwan said gently, putting down his mug. "Have you thought about calling her?"

Sienna didn't need to ask who he meant.

Her eyes drifted to the window, then back to the tea. "A little," she murmured.

He waited a beat, not pushing. Just waiting.

"I'm not angry anymore," she admitted. "I just... I didn't want her to see me like that. I didn't want her to know how bad it got. And now that I'm doing better, I feel like... maybe I owe it to her. To us."

Seungkwan smiled softly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "You don't owe anyone anything. But maybe you both deserve the chance to talk. To heal. She's your mom."

Sienna nodded slowly. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

They met at a small café tucked between two bookstores. Neutral ground, halfway between their homes. A place neither of them had been to before, but felt safe enough to begin again.

Sienna hadn't seen her mother in months–not since the fallout that cracked the foundation between them. Not since everything else collapsed on top of it. She had imagined this moment a hundred different ways. Rehearsed what she might say. Wondered if she'd cry, yell, run. But now that she was here, all she felt was the pounding of her heart and the hum of cautious hope.

When her mother walked in, Sienna stood automatically. They met near the doorway, and the hug came without words. It was tight, desperate even. Her mother clung to her like someone coming up for air. Her voice was muffled in Sienna's hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, over and over again, barely audible. "I'm so sorry."

Sienna's arms stayed still at first, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into the embrace, closing her eyes. For a moment, she let herself just be someone's daughter.

At a nearby table, Seungkwan sat watching with a soft smile, giving them space. He stirred his coffee slowly, but his eyes never strayed far from Sienna.

They sat across from each other, both with their hands wrapped around their mugs like anchors. The silence was heavy but not angry. Just filled with all the things they hadn't said.

"I'm sorry it's been so long," her mother began, voice careful. "I thought... maybe you needed space. But I missed you. Every single day."

"I did need time," Sienna admitted, "but I missed you too. I really did."

They didn't speak of the darkness. Sienna didn't tell her mother how deep the cracks had run, or how close she'd been to shattering entirely. And her mother didn't ask. Maybe she already knew. Maybe the ache in a mother's chest had told her everything.

So instead, they talked about lighter things–memories of Sienna's childhood, friends from back home, what flowers were blooming now in their old neighborhood. They smiled. They laughed, shy at first, and then easier. Like sunlight thawing something frozen between them.

"Sooye–" her mother began, then caught herself. "Sorry. I won't call you Sooyeon if you don't want me to."

"No, it's okay." Sienna shook her head. "I've missed hearing it from you. It's my name. It only sounds sweet when you say it. I love that only the people who love me the most use that name." Her eyes flicked over to Seungkwan for just a second.

Her mother blinked, her expression folding with emotion.

"I've been thinking about the past a lot," she said. "About how I never noticed how unhappy you were. I didn't know you hated moving here. I didn't know you wanted to stay with your dad. I was so caught up in everything I was feeling, I never stopped to see what you were going through. And that's on me. I'm so sorry."

Sienna swallowed hard. "I should've told you. I should've spoken up, instead of shutting down. I'm sorry too, Mom. I love you."

Her mother reached across the table and took her hand. "I'm really proud of you," she said, her voice thick. "You've grown so much."

Tears stung Sienna's eyes, but she smiled and nodded. "Thanks for meeting me. I was scared you wouldn't come."

"I'll always come. Always."

Then her mother straightened a little, adopting a scolding tone. "And don't you ever ignore my calls like that again. I was so worried I even called your father to ask if he'd heard from you."

Sienna laughed, eyes glinting with tears. "Okay, okay. I won't."

"Good. And next time you need to disappear, tell me where you're going so I don't assume you've joined a cult."

"Noted."

Her mother glanced toward Seungkwan's table. "You know... not much escapes a mother's eye. That cute boy sitting over there? He's been watching you like you are the moon. Is that your boyfriend?"

Sienna's cheeks pinked. "He's not my boyfriend... yet. But... he is the love of my life."

Her mother smiled knowingly, then motioned for Seungkwan to come over.

He startled a little, looking up like a deer caught in headlights. Blushing furiously, he stood and shuffled over, smoothing his shirt as he approached the table.

"Hello, young man," her mother said warmly. "I hear you're the love of my daughter's life."

"Mom!" Sienna hissed, burying her face in her hands, but she was laughing too.

Seungkwan bowed deeply. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Boo Seungkwan. It's very nice to meet you."

Her mother reached out and took his hand gently. "So you're the boy who answered the call."

Sienna blinked. "What?"

Seungkwan only nodded, lips pressed together.

"Thank you for keeping your promise," her mother said, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

Sienna didn't understand. But she didn't ask. Not now.

Instead, the three of them sat together for a little longer, the quiet between them no longer heavy, but full of healing. Seungkwan joined the conversation at the right moments. adding a joke when the mood dipped, nodding when Sienna stumbled for words. Mostly, he just sat beside her and listened. Let her have this moment.

When raindrops started playing in the cafe Sienna couldn't help but smile.

When they stepped out into the street afterward, the wind was cool and carried the scent of fresh blossoms. The sky was a wash with the soft gold and pinks of the setting sun, casting everything in a tender glow.

Seungkwan reached for her hand. "You okay?

Sienna looked up at him, her heart full but no longer heavy. "Yeah," she said quietly, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I think I am."

And hand in hand, they walked down the street together. Towards whatever came next.

"So when's your flight?" Minghao asked, casually tossing a water bottle Seungkwan's way.

"In five hours," Seungkwan replied, catching it without looking. He'd come by the practice room to grab a jacket he'd left behind, but apparently the whole group was there, lounging, stretching, or pretending to practice. "Just need to pack and head to the airport."

"You're going to San Francisco, right?" Seungcheol said, raising a brow. "To meet the dad?"

"As her plus one to her dad's wedding," Seungkwan clarified. "Not a big deal."

"A huge deal," Mingyu chimed in, grinning like a cat. "The boyfriend is meeting the father. This is major."

"We're not dating," Seungkwan said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended. "I've told you guys, we're taking things slow. We're focusing on healing."

"Yeah, yeah," Jihoon muttered, rolling his eyes without even looking up from his phone. "You keep saying that."

"Hyung," Dino said with faux innocence, sitting cross legged on the floor, "do you guys kiss?"

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes. "Yah! Maknae, do you want to die today?" He lunged toward him, but Mingyu held him back, cackling as he wrapped his arms around him.

"Just answer the damn question!" Seungcheol laughed, clearly enjoying this more than he should.

Seungkwan paused, cheeks heating. "Yes."

A beat passed.

"Do you guys... have sex?" Jun asked, deadpan.

There was a pause.

"Yes," Seungkwan muttered, rubbing his temples.

Now every head in the room turned.

"And you sleep in the same bed every night?" Soonyoung asked, mouth slightly open like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes."

"But you're not dating?" Vernon asked slowly, like he was trying to solve a math problem.

"No!"

There was a long silence.

Then Joshua stood up, walked over, and gently patted Seungkwan on the back like he was delivering condolences. "Seungkwan-ah... I hate to break it to you, but friends don't do all that."

The room erupted into laughter. Jihoon actually choked on his drink, and Chan rolled onto his back, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach.

"I hate all of you," Seungkwan grumbled, grabbing his jacket. "This is why I don't tell you guys stuff. You're all insufferable."

"No, no, we love you. And your not-girlfriend," Minghao said with a smirk.

"Shut up."

"Don't forget protection!" Jun called after him.

"I'M LEAVING!"

As Seungkwan stormed out, red faced and flustered, the laughter behind him only grew louder. But even as he huffed his way down the hall, muttering under his breath, the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

Because even if they were merciless... they were his brothers. And deep down, they were just as happy he was happy.

Even if he was completely, utterly, hopelessly in denial about dating.

For the wedding, Seungkwan and Sienna chose subtly matching outfits. Nothing too obvious, just enough to say we're in this together.

Seungkwan wore a dusty rose tie that matched the hue of Sienna's dress, paired with a charcoal grey suit tailored to perfection. His white shirt was crisp, and a soft pink pocket square peeked from his jacket, subtly echoing the warmth in his eyes every time he looked at her. His hair was styled neatly, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered whenever he leaned in close–clean, comforting, familiar.

Sienna wore a dusty rose satin midi dress, the sweetheart neckline and flutter sleeves softening her silhouette. The fabric shimmered delicately under the sun as she walked, hugging her waist before flowing gently to her calves. Her hair was loosely pinned in a half up style, strands falling in soft waves. She wore small gold hoops and nude heels, elegance in motion. Simple, graceful and undeniably radiant.

They didn't match in an obvious, coordinated way. But standing together, they looked seamless. Like two halves of a shared rhythm, perfectly in tune.

As the reception buzzed around them, Sienna took Seungkwan's hand and led him toward an older gentleman chatting with relatives near the buffet table.

"Seungkwan, this is my dad," she said in English, her voice steady but with a flicker of nerves in her eyes. "Dad, this is Seungkwan," she added, then hesitated just for a breath. "He's my boyfriend."

Seungkwan blinked. He hadn't expected that. They'd tiptoed around labels, choosing to focus on healing, on being present for each other. They hadn't defined anything–until now.

He smiled and greeted her father with a bow and warm handshake, masking the sudden thunder of his heart. But the moment they moved away from the crowd, he gently tugged Sienna to a quieter corner near the rose garden.

"Wait–boyfriend?" he whispered, eyes wide, voice teetering between confusion and amusement. "We said no labels. I may not know a lot of english but I definitely know that word."

Sienna smirked, unapologetic. "What was I supposed to say? 'This is the guy I spend all my time with, kiss frequently, and do very non innocent things with. But we're just friends?'" She rolled her eyes. "My dad would've killed you."

He stared at her, pretending to be scandalized. "So you called me your boyfriend just to save me from potential death?"

"Exactly," she said with a dramatic nod, clearly teasing.

There was a pause. His grin softened into something real, something honest.

"So..." he stepped closer, letting their fingers intertwine, "what does that make us now?"

Sienna looked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief. "It means we're dating, Boo Seungkwan."

She reached for his tie, tugged him down to her, and kissed him sweet, certain, unapologetic.

And in that kiss, there was clarity. This wasn't some fragile, undefined thing anymore. They'd already been through the fire. What they had now was solid, grounded, real.

The rest of the night passed in a golden blur. Seungkwan met more of her family, danced with her under fairy lights. But the moment that sealed the night? Sienna catching the bride's bouquet. Her laughter echoing through the air as she held the flowers high, her eyes meeting Seungkwan's from across the dance floor.

He hadn't had a day that good in a very long time.