The quiet hum of the hospital hallway barely registered in Jinhwan's mind as he stood near the entrance to Choi Haeun's room, fingers curled loosely around a bouquet he didn't even remember buying. Hydrangeas—white ones. Elegant and cautious. They felt too formal. Too careful. But maybe that's what he needed to be with her.
Inside the room, Haeun was propped up on the hospital bed, her long hair tied into a low, messy ponytail. She was scrolling on her phone with a look that flickered between boredom and irritation—until her eyes flicked up and landed on him.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Jinhwan stepped forward but stopped just short of the doorway.
"I wasn't expecting a chaebol heir with flowers," she said, voice dry, eyebrows arching. "Am I supposed to swoon now?"
His lips twitched. "Only if you want to."
A pause passed. Then she gestured loosely. "Come in before a nurse thinks you're lost."
He entered, unsure of what to say now that he was here. The scent of antiseptic lingered faintly in the air, mixed with the artificial lemon of cleaning spray. She didn't look hurt—just tired.
He set the flowers down on the small table beside her. "They're probably too cliché."
"They're white hydrangeas," she said, inspecting them without touching. "Do you know what they mean?"
He shook his head.
"Gratitude. Apology. Sometimes even… forgetfulness." Her eyes flicked back to his. "Interesting choice."
Something inside him stilled. Was that coincidence? Or instinct?
"I'm sorry you got hurt," he said softly, for once without any sharp edge in his voice. "I should've stopped you from running."
She tilted her head. "You didn't seem the type to chase after people, especially not girls who work part-time in convenience stores."
He didn't respond.
Because she was right.
But something about her had unnerved him from the moment they met. She wasn't impressed by his wealth, didn't flinch at his temper, and didn't try to flatter him. She challenged him just by existing—and it was maddening.
"I wasn't trying to impress you," she added, as if reading his thoughts. "I was trying to survive the day. That's all."
"I know."
And strangely, he meant it.
A silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, just… full. Charged.
She finally sighed and leaned back against her pillows. "So, what now? You going to apologize again? Or was that a one-time limited edition?"
Jinhwan allowed himself a small smile. "I don't apologize often. Don't get used to it."
"Oh, I won't." But she was smiling too now, just a little.
There was something in her eyes. Something familiar.
He hadn't been able to place it before, but now it hovered at the edge of his memory—like a dream slipping away before waking. The curve of her mouth when she smiled like that, the way her voice softened when she teased, it was like he'd heard it before. Lived it. Lost it.
He sat down in the chair next to her bed, more tired than he expected.
"Do you ever have dreams that feel… too real?" he asked, surprising even himself.
She looked at him, startled. "Why?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "You just seem like someone who might."
Her fingers stilled on the blanket. "Sometimes I dream of places I've never been. People I don't know. But I always feel like I should."
Jinhwan's gaze sharpened. "Do you remember their faces?"
"No." She frowned. "Not really. Just… feelings. Like I knew them. Like I was supposed to do something and didn't."
She paused.
"I've never told anyone that before."
He didn't know how to respond. A knot tightened in his chest.
"Maybe you should remember," he said quietly.
And for a moment, they just looked at each other. The air between them felt heavy with something unsaid, something ancient. Something waiting.
The door suddenly opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside with a paper cup of coffee.
Seo Sunwoo.
His gaze flicked instantly to Jinhwan, then to Haeun. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"I brought your favorite," he said to her, his voice calm but clipped. "No sugar, one shot of vanilla."
"Thanks," Haeun replied, a little sheepishly. "Jinhwan-ssi, this is my friend, Sunwoo. Sunwoo, this is—"
"I know who he is," Sunwoo interrupted gently, placing the cup in her hand.
Jinhwan stood, his posture relaxing into something unreadable.
Sunwoo turned to him. "Didn't expect to see you here, CEO Han."
"I could say the same."
There was an undercurrent now. Tension. Not openly hostile, but not quite polite either. Haeun seemed to notice.
"You two know each other?" she asked.
"Not personally," Sunwoo answered smoothly. "But I know the type."
And that—was enough.
Jinhwan's gaze hardened just slightly. "Type?"
"The kind that shows up when something rare catches their eye. Until they get bored."
Haeun looked between them, confused.
Jinhwan's jaw tightened. "That's funny. I was thinking the same about you."
Before things could spiral, Haeun raised a hand. "Guys, seriously? You're fighting over—what exactly?"
Neither of them answered.
She groaned. "I got hit by a car, not married off. Relax."
That cracked something. Jinhwan's expression flickered—was that amusement? Sunwoo actually smiled, just a little.
"I'll give you some space," Jinhwan said, his voice low now. "But I'll be back. We're not finished talking."
To Haeun, that sounded like a threat.
But to Sunwoo… it sounded like a promise.
And when Jinhwan left, the air in the room seemed to still again.
Haeun looked down at the coffee in her hands, suddenly unsure of everything.
Her life had always been simple. Hard, but simple.
Now? She felt like she was standing on the edge of something—something vast and strange and terrifyingly familiar.
And deep down… she wanted to jump.