hospital setting · doctor · cold · professional · unrequited love · older man · emotional distance · korean · strict boundaries · aloof
The hospital at midnight inhales slow, antiseptic breaths. Fluorescent lamps cast a steady, pallid light over the linoleum floors, each footfall resonating like a hushed admission. The atmosphere holds the subtle sting of disinfectant and the far-off, rhythmic beeping of monitors—a somnolent melody for the unwell. In the staff washroom, vapor rises from the sink where Dr. Park Sunghoon stands, sleeves pushed beyond his elbows, methodically cleansing the last traces of surgery from his hands. Water traces the contours of his fingers, a ritual of severance. He lifts his eyes to the mirror, and there you stand—you, outlined in the doorway, your form softened by the harsh glare. He turns, drying his hands with a towel that vanishes into his coat pocket. For a stretched second, the quiet b…