A Heartbeat Away
Ki-Joo woke up earlier than usual the next morning, a strange unease tugging at him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt the need to check on Jo Yi-Su. For the past few weeks, her cheerful greetings had become a constant in his mornings, a routine he hadn't realized he cherished until now. But today, her window was closed, the lights in her apartment off.
Brushing off his uneasiness, he convinced himself she might just be sleeping in. But as the hours passed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. By mid-morning, he found himself outside her door, knocking softly.
"Jo Yi?" he called.
There was no response.
Frowning, he knocked again, this time louder. Still nothing. His heart began to pound as he reached for the doorknob and found it unlocked. Carefully, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The apartment was unusually quiet, the air heavy. And then he saw her.
Jo Yi-Su was lying on the floor near the kitchen, her face pale and her breathing shallow.
"Jo Yi!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side. He gently shook her, but her eyes fluttered only faintly, her lips parting as if to say something.
Without hesitation, Ki-Joo scooped her up in his arms. She felt unnervingly light, and the chill of her skin sent a jolt of fear through him. He headed toward the door, ready to take her to the hospital, when she weakly grabbed at his shirt.
"Not... the hospital," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice laced with panic. "You need help, Jo Yi. You're not okay!"
She shook her head faintly, her grip on his shirt loosening. "No hospital," she repeated.
Ki-Joo hesitated, torn between her plea and his instinct to get her immediate medical attention. "Then where?" he asked, his tone softening. "Where should I take you?"
"Medicine," she murmured. "In... my room."
Following her direction, Ki-Joo carried her to her bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. He quickly searched her bedside table and found a small bottle of pills. The label indicated they were for a chronic condition, but it didn't specify what.
He returned to her side, his hands trembling as he read the instructions. "These?" he asked, showing her the bottle.
She gave a faint nod.
Ki-Joo carefully measured out the prescribed dose and helped her take the pills, holding a glass of water to her lips. "What's going on, Jo Yi?" he asked, his voice filled with worry. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"
Her eyes fluttered open slightly, and she offered him the faintest of smiles. "Didn't... want you to worry," she said weakly.
Ki-Joo felt a pang of frustration and sadness. "Not tell me? Do you have any idea how scared I was just now?"
Jo Yi-Su's expression softened, but she was too weak to respond.
---
Over the next few hours, Ki-Joo stayed by her side, refusing to leave until he was certain she was stable. He adjusted the blankets around her, checked her temperature, and even prepared a simple broth in case she regained enough strength to eat.
By late afternoon, some color had returned to Jo Yi-Su's cheeks, and her breathing was more even. When she finally stirred, Ki-Joo was sitting by her bedside, his face etched with concern.
"Ki-Joo," she murmured, her voice stronger than before.
He leaned forward, relief washing over him. "You scared me half to death, Jo Yi. What happened?"
She hesitated, her gaze dropping. "It's nothing serious," she said softly. "Just a condition I've had since I was a teenager. It flares up sometimes when I'm too stressed or forget to take my meds."
"Nothing serious?" Ki-Joo repeated, his tone incredulous. "You were lying on the floor unconscious, Jo Yi. That's not nothing."
She sighed, a hint of guilt in her expression. "I didn't mean for you to find me like that. I just... I didn't want to bother you."
"Bother me?" Ki-Joo shook his head, his voice firm but gentle. "You're never a bother, Jo Yi. If something's wrong, I want to know. I want to help."
Her eyes filled with tears, and she gave him a small, grateful smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Ki-Joo reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just promise me you won't keep something like this from me again," he said softly. "I mean it, Jo Yi. You don't have to go through this alone."
She nodded, her tears spilling over. "I promise."
---
The next day, Ki-Joo made sure Jo Yi-Su had everything she needed, from groceries to her medication. He even insisted on checking in on her throughout the day, much to her protest.
"You're acting like a mother hen," she teased, though her tone was filled with affection.
"I don't care," he replied stubbornly. "You're not scaring me like that again."
Jo Yi-Su laughed softly, her heart warming at his protectiveness. For someone who claimed to keep his distance, Ki-Joo was proving to be more caring than she could have ever imagined.
As the days passed and Jo Yi-Su regained her strength, their bond deepened in ways neither of them fully understood. Ki-Joo found himself drawn to her even more, not just because of her vulnerability, but because of her resilience. And Jo Yi-Su saw a side of Ki-Joo that few others ever got to see—a side that was tender, selfless, and fiercely protective.
Though the moment had been born out of fear and pain, it had brought them closer together, creating a connection that neither of them could ignore.