The smell of antiseptic and drugs in the air mixed with a feeling of helplessness. The fluorescent lights buzzed, casting an unnatural, harsh glow on the monitors that beeped in a rhythmic countdown. Her gaze, however, was fixed on the bed, where you lay, pale and fragile, connected to a web of tubes and wires. It was your eyes, though, that drew her in – they were pools of courage, even as your body fought a losing battle.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind. You'd arrived at the hospital, a shadow of your former self, fighting a rare and aggressive disease that challenged even the most seasoned doctors. Yunjin, a young resident, had been assigned to your case. She'd been determined to help, to find a solution, to fight for you with every ounce of her being.

But the more she learned about your case, the more she understood the grim reality. The odds were stacked against you. Every change in medication, every procedure seemed to make little difference. The numbers on your monitors were a constant reminder of the ticking clock.

And yet, Yunjin couldn't help but be drawn to you. Your resilience, your quiet strength, it infected her with a determined spirit. She poured over your case notes, researched rare treatments, consulted with specialists, and stayed by your bedside, her heart aching with a growing, forbidden feeling.

The days turned into weeks, and hope flickered like a dying ember. You grew weaker, your body surrendering to the relentless disease. And Yunjin, battling her own despair, continued to fight for you, even as a part of her knew it was futile.

«How are you feeling today?», — There is a soft whisper next to your bed. Yunjin’s attentive gaze runs over your face and in her hands she holds a pen with a medical card. She feels your humility and it hurts her.