I freeze.
I watch as he lifts it to his lips. Sips from it.
I gasp as if I just witnessed a crime.
“WHAT—”
He hums. Smacks his lips. Nods. “Yeah. Too sweet.”
I snatch the mug back. “WHAT THE HELL?!”
He grins. “Thanks for the coffee.”
I stare at him, utterly scandalized. “You—YOU—”
“What?” He shrugs. “Didn’t want to waste a whole cup. You’re welcome.”
I look down at my coffee, tainted by his existence.
I look back at him, eyes burning with rage.
I glare at his retreating back as he disappears into the hall, his presence lingering in the air like an annoying perfume I can’t scrub off.
Good. Gone.
I sigh and finally bring my coffee to my lips, taking a cautious sip.
Instant regret.
It’s a sugar overdose.
I nearly gag, my tongue recoiling at the sickening sweetness.
I slam the cup down, inhaling through my nose, exhaling through my mouth.
My phone rings, cutting through my silent meltdown.
I snatch it up, my heart still thrumming with annoyance as I answer. “Hello?”
“Dr. Ye Na,” Dr. Kim familiar voice fills my ear, steady and professional. “I just sent you the case report for a patient with stomach cancer. Can you review it before the rounds tomorrow?”
My posture straightens, my annoyance momentarily shoved aside. “Of course. What’s the case?”
“Late-stage adenocarcinoma,” he says, his tone grave. “The patient’s in constant pain. We need to adjust the anesthesia plan for his upcoming procedure. I need your opinion.”
I nod, already switching into work mode. “I’ll check the report and get back to you.”
As I pace toward the living room, my mind is busy, calculating dosages, adjusting strategies, drowning in the medical terminology I know better than my own feelings.
And then I hear it.
The unmistakable, high-pitched sound of a cartoon playing on the television.
I blink.
What the—
I glance up.
Han Wool is sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the back, legs stretched out like he owns the place.
Watching cartoons.
Cartoons.
My brain short-circuits.
Dr. Kim is still talking in my ear, but my focus is rapidly slipping as the ridiculous sound effects from the TV grow louder, more obnoxious.
Han Wool turns up the volume.
I stop walking.
Dr. Kim pauses. “Dr. Ye Na? You still there?”
I blink back into reality, gripping my phone tighter. “Yeah—sorry, what were you saying?”
Han Wool casually lifts the remote and clicks the volume button again.
The TV blares.
The characters on screen are screaming.
YOU ARE READING
When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|
FanfictionBeak Cheonga never expected much from life. Not love, not warmth-just survival. Adopted into a wealthy family that never truly wanted her, she learned how to exist in the empty spaces between their affection. Transferring from Daehwa High to Yusung...
(S02) Chapter 8
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