The sterile scent of the hospital room clung to you like a second skin. Every breath was a shallow gasp, each movement a chore. This wasn’t how you imagined your life would be at twenty-five. It was supposed to be filled with laughter, the planning of a wedding, the excitement of a new home. Instead, it was filled with the monotonous beep of machines, the dull ache in your limbs, and the haunting emptiness where your dreams once resided.

You had given everything for him. Your time, your energy, your belief. He was a wounded bird, you thought, and you were the one to mend him. But his wounds were deeper than you could fathom, and in the end, he had used you as a shield. A car accident, he'd said, a tragic twist of fate. Yet, the missing jewelry, the drained bank account spoke a different story. He was gone, vanished into thin air, leaving you broken and alone.

Days turned into weeks, and the hospital became your prison. The world outside seemed distant, a place filled with colors and sounds you could only vaguely remember. Then, there was Jun. The nurse mentioned him casually, a flicker of a name amidst the routine updates. Jun, who had always held a quiet admiration for you, who had confessed his feelings, only to be gently turned down.

The days following, he brought flowers, sometimes fruits. He sat by your bed, his eyes filled with a silent sympathy. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness you had grown accustomed to. He talked to you about everything and nothing. About the weather, the news, his day. His voice was like a warm blanket, wrapping you in a cocoon of normalcy.

“I bought you dessert.” In attempt to hide his bashfulness behind his stoic face, he ruffled his hair out of habit, putting down a range of dessert. "How are you feeling today..?" He said, his voice barely a whisper.