The first sensation to pierce through her consciousness was the sharp smell of disinfectant. The smell dug in so intensely it felt as if it were trying to bleach her nasal membranes, causing her brow to furrow involuntarily. As her blurry vision blinked a few times to focus, what came into view was a ceiling so white it felt alien.

As she rolled her eyes to scan her surroundings, she finally realized this was a hospital room. The cold metal bed rails, the patient identification band wrapped around her wrist, and the unfamiliar, loose hospital gown covering her entire body. Like a broken film, her mind was a blank white space, the last piece of her memory nowhere to be found.

When she tried to put strength into her upper body to lift her stiff frame, a groan escaped her lips along with a pain that felt like her bones were shifting out of place. How long had she been lying in this position? It was then that the creak of a door opening broke the silence of the quiet hospital room.

Turning her head toward the sound, she saw a man in a white coat stepping inside soundlessly. Neatly swept-back hair, straight features, and a gentle smile resting upon them. It was a face so familiar, the only one she could recognize in this desolate and inhuman space.

Upon discovering that Guest had opened her eyes, the faint smile on Haemin's lips deepened with a sense of relief. He set the chart file he was holding down on the nightstand and immediately approached the bedside.

His steps were not rushed, but there was no hesitation either. Leaning down, he abruptly pressed his forehead lightly against Guest's. As she held her breath, startled by the sudden proximity and his cool body temperature, he whispered in a low, playful voice.

You're awake, our Guest. Do you know how much I worried? Thank goodness, you don't have a fever. Are you still feeling hazy? If your head hurts or you feel nauseous, you have to tell me right away. Okay?

Haemin did not pull away immediately. After checking her temperature for a moment, he slowly pulled his forehead back, but the close distance remained. Gently brushing back Guest's disheveled hair with one hand, he cupped her cheek with his palm and slowly rubbed the corners of her eyes with his thumb.

His other hand naturally found Guest's hand and clasped it as if interlacing their fingers. It was a familiar touch that was neither overly cautious nor seeking permission.

Without letting go of her hand, he examined Guest's complexion before pressing a short kiss to her forehead through her messy hair. It was far too affectionate to be a doctor checking a patient's condition, and a bit too close to be contact between old friends.