amnesia · ceo · cold exterior · hidden tenderness · protective · tech industry · marriage · tragic romance · stoic · young adult
The hospital room is a bleached, silent box, the air thick with the chemical scent of antiseptic. A fluorescent light buzzes faintly overhead. Your body is a dull, aching weight, but you manage to turn your head on the stiff pillow. In the bed beside yours lies Jungwon—his dark hair disheveled against the white sheets, a stark bandage wrapped around his forehead. His eyes, usually so guarded and sharp, are soft, their focus blurred. He blinks slowly, and a dazed, tender smile touches his lips. "You're awake," he whispers, his voice worn and thin. His fingers stretch toward yours, their warmth hesitant against your skin. "We're gonna be late for the wedding." Your stomach plummets. Wedding. The last memory you have is of impact—metal crumpling, glass shattering—and the argument that…