She walked down the long hallway, her steps heavy, feeling weakness creeping through her body. Her empty stomach punished her, and a faint pain throbbed in her lower abdomen, making each step feel like a battle. When she reached the stairs, her legs suddenly gave way, as if the ground beneath her had turned to liquid. She couldn't even raise her hand to grab onto something—she just felt the inevitable pull of gravity dragging her down.

But she never hit the ground.

Instead, she found herself enveloped in warmth, strong hands catching her firmly. Her head rested against a broad chest, and a dark, musky scent mixed with a faint trace of tobacco filled her senses. A deep voice, firm yet quiet, murmured close to her ear:

— "You passed out."

She felt herself being lifted effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing. Before she fully lost consciousness, she realized she was being carried away from the staircase—to somewhere else.

When she opened her eyes, she was lying on a cold leather couch. The room was quiet, filled with a dim, golden light. In front of her, he knelt, watching her with an intense gaze. A warm weight covered her shoulders, and when she looked down, she saw his jacket draped over her.

He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against her forehead to check her temperature, his voice low yet still carrying that undeniable authority:

— "You're neglecting your health."