Chapter 21
Jaeyel was wiping down the last of the carts when one of the senior nurses caught sight of him.
“Jaeyel,” she called, slightly out of breath.
“I’m so sorry… it’s right at the end of your shift, I know, but could you help me with something real quick?”
He looked up and gave her a soft smile. “It’s okay. What do you need?”
Relieved, she gestured for him to follow.
“Just need help with one of the patients. He’s… not the easiest to deal with. But since you’re still around, I figured I’d ask.”
On the way there, she kept talking, half venting, half trying to prep him.
“He doesn’t talk much, and when he does, it’s just – cold. I don’t know if he’s some VIP or just used to bossing people around, but everyone’s been avoiding his room when they can.”
Jaeyel glanced at her as they turned a corner.
Could it be the same patient the nurses were talking about the other day? he wondered.
When they reached the room, the nurse noticeably slowed down. Her earlier chatter faded.
She knocked softly, then opened the door with a cautious hand.
Inside, the room was dim, bathed in moonlight filtering through the tall window.
The patient sat propped up in bed, facing away from them. His posture was stiff, shoulders squared, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the glass.
“Mr. Seo,” the nurse said carefully, “I’m just going to change your bedding.”
No reply.
Not even a glance in their direction.
She turned to Jaeyel, clearly unsure of what to do next.
Jaeyel stepped in a little.
“Sir,” he said, keeping his tone even but respectful. “We just need a minute to take care of your bed.”
The man slowly turned his head.
His face was sharp, hard to read, eyes piercing, cold, unreadable. It was the kind of stare meant to shut people down without a word.
But Jaeyel didn’t flinch.
He quietly rolled the wheelchair beside the bed.
“Excuse me,” he said, then moved with calm, practiced hands to guide the man into the chair.
Neither the nurse nor the man reacted – just followed him with their eyes as he started stripping the sheets, smooth and efficient like it was second nature.
The silence was heavy, but Jaeyel didn’t seem bothered.
Once done, he helped the man back into bed, still not saying much.
Silence.
Before heading out, Jaeyel finally spoke again.
“We’re not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to. We’re just doing our jobs,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “So if you could cooperate next time… we’d appreciate it, Sir.”
Jaeyel nodded at the nurse. “Let’s go. Let him rest.”
She gave a quick, wordless nod and followed him out.
Once they left, the man kept staring at the door, his face carved into silence.
…
Back in the hallway, the nurse exhaled like she’d been holding her breath the whole time.
“Wow. I don’t know what you did back there, but that was impressive. He usually glares people out of the room.”
She kept talking as they walked, but Jaeyel wasn’t really listening.
His mind was still back in that room.
There was something strange about the man’s presence… something oddly familiar.
He just couldn’t place it.
…
It had been nearly a week since Jaeyel started assisting the cold, intimidating man that most staff quietly avoided.
By now, he was used to the routine.
While Jaeyel was in the backroom arranging a tray of food specially prepared by the patient’s personal chef, one of the nurses approached him with a light tone.
“Seriously, Jaeyel, we owe you. He’s been so much more manageable since you started helping out.”
She glanced at the snack bag in her hand. “At this point, we’re all depending on you to handle his chores. Least we can do is keep you fed.”
The nurses had unofficially made a system.
Jaeyel handled the hard patient, and in exchange, they brought him lunch and snacks every day.
Jaeyel offered a polite smile. “It’s nothing. I’m just doing my part.”
The nurse gave him a grateful pat on the shoulder before heading off, leaving Jaeyel to carry the tray to the man’s room.
He knocked once before slowly opening the door.
The man was already in his usual place by the window, back straight, gaze steady, but this time, he turned to look at Jaeyel the moment the door opened, as if he’d been waiting.
Without comment, Jaeyel stepped inside and began setting the meal on the overbed table.
“Today’s menu is steamed fish with vegetables, rice, and ginseng soup. Looks like your chef is making sure you don’t go soft,” he said mildly.
The man didn’t respond, only kept watching him.
Jaeyel moved on to the window, pulling out a clean cloth to dust the frame. Behind him, the man finally spoke.
“Well? What happened next?”
Jaeyel paused briefly before realizing what the man meant.
For the past few days, Jaeyel had found himself sharing stories, mostly from his childhood.
Yesterday, he had told the beginning of a story about how he snuck out to play with friends and ended up accidentally hitching a ride on a truck heading toward Seoul, leaving his grandparents in a panic.
Jaeyel, still wiping the window, didn’t even look at the man and simply said, “I’ll tell you the rest after you finish your meal, Sir.”
There was a short silence.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly wanting to argue, but instead, he let out a quiet breath, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat.
Jaeyel glanced over his shoulder.
He smiled to himself and continued wiping down the window.
…
The sky outside had dipped into muted blues and grays by the time Jaeyel walked through the front door of the old couple’s house – and their not-so-kind grandson.
His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, not just from the work at the hospital, but from the weight of everything that still pressed on his chest – questions without answers, decisions without direction.
“Grandma?” he called softly, stepping out of his shoes. “Grandpa?”
Silence.
He moved into the kitchen.
Empty.
He checked the small garden out back. No one there either.
With a quiet sigh, he leaned against the hallway wall, eyes closing for a second.
Maybe they went to the town center again… or just out for a walk. They’d been doing that more lately.
He turned and walked down the short hall to the room they’d given him. The wooden floor creaked faintly under his feet.
He stepped inside, the faint breeze from the corridor brushing his back.
His fingers lingered on the edge of the desk for a second before he moved toward the bed, sitting down slowly.
The quiet hum of insects from outside seeped through the window.
Jaeyel sat there, staring at the folded blanket.
I can’t stay here forever.
He knew that.
He knew it the moment he first woke up under their roof.
This wasn’t his home. This wasn’t his life.
And yet… he wasn’t ready to go back.
Maybe another part-time job, he thought absently. Save up. Buy myself some time to figure things out.
With a quiet sigh, he stood and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head slowly.
The motion made his back ache just slightly – he was still healing.
He tugged at the waistband of his pants next, already halfway through undressing when-
SLAM.
“YAH—WHAT THE HELL?!!” came a voice from the doorway.
Jaeyel turned his head calmly.
Ric stood in the open doorway, face flushed, hand thrown dramatically over his eyes.
“Do you not know how to use a door lock?!”
Ric barked, still shielding his vision like Jaeyel had transformed into a blinding light.
Jaeyel blinked.
“…What’s there to be so dramatic about?” he asked quietly, tone flat. “You have one too.”
Ric sputtered. “That’s not the point! There are rules! Social – boundaries! Clothes!”
Jaeyel gave a tired shrug and turned his back to grab a clean shirt. “You came in without knocking.”
“Because I didn’t think you’d be standing there half-naked like we’re in a soap opera!”
Pulling the shirt over his head, Jaeyel turned slightly, one brow raised. “Didn’t think you were that innocent.”
“I’m not-!” Ric paused, then groaned.
“I’m not innocent, I just- have eyes, okay?”
Jaeyel gave him a sideways glance, something almost like a smirk tugging at his lips. “Didn’t realize I made that much of an impression.”
Ric turned even redder, which only made him more aggressive.
“Y-You’re not special,” he said, stepping back toward the door, practically backing out of the room. “I’d react the same if it were anyone!”
Jaeyel tilted his head, arms now crossed lazily over his chest. “That so?”
“Yes!”
“…You’re still standing there.”
“I’m leaving!”
SLAM!
And he did – slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary.
Left alone in the room, Jaeyel stared at the door for a long second.
Then let out a quiet breath through his nose that might’ve been a laugh.
For the first time in days, the ache in his chest wasn’t all that heavy.
…
Midnight blanketed the quiet hotel room in stillness. The soft hum of the city below barely reached the window.
Yang stepped inside, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin.
His coat came off first, dropped carelessly over the arm of a chair.
He reached for the bottle of wine on the counter, uncorked it without ceremony, and poured himself a glass before sinking into the sofa.
The first sip didn’t even register – he wasn’t drinking for taste. He sat back, head leaning against the cushion, the weight of the day pressing down on him.
But beneath the fatigue, something deeper sat heavy behind his eyes.
Longing. Frustration. That gnawing emptiness.
He pulled out his phone, thumb swiping across the screen until it stopped on a photo – Jaeyel, caught mid-bite, laughing at something off-camera.
There was food in his mouth, cheeks puffed slightly, his eyes bright and alive. The kind of moment so simple, so warm, it made everything else seem far away.
Yang stared at it for a long time, barely blinking.
Then, in a low, barely audible voice, he spoke – more to himself than anything.
“If I told you everything… would you forgive me?”
His thumb hovered over the photo, then slowly brushed across it.
“If you knew I’m not as gentle as you think I am… would you still stay?”
Silence answered him.
He let out a dry breath, almost a laugh, but it lacked any humor.
“What will it take for you to come back…?”
His voice softened further.
“Do I have to let you… go for that to happen?”
He paused, eyes unfocused now.
“Can I even stay sane if I do?”
The room said nothing back. But the ache in his chest only deepened.
Whatever the answers were, he didn’t know them. Maybe he never would.
But one thing, at least, was certain.
“I just need you back. Safe. That’s all.”
He leaned back against the couch again, eyes still on the phone, as if hoping that staring long enough might bring Jaeyel home.
