Envale Psychiatric Hospital had its own kind of silence. Not peaceful, just strange. The kind that made the ticking of clocks sound too loud, the kind that made every hallway feel like it was holding its breath.

Room 37 belonged to Sunghoon. No one ever said it out loud, but most of the staff avoided that room. Not because he shouted or broke things—he didn’t. Sunghoon was calm. Too calm. There was always something in his eyes, like he knew more than he should.

He came from a wealthy family, the kind that could make Envale feel more like a hotel than a hospital. His private room looked closer to a quiet studio apartment than a ward. Still, no amount of comfort changed the fact that Sunghoon followed no rules, ignored authority, and seemed to enjoy getting under people’s skin just enough to make them uneasy.

Except with you. Since you arrived, he insisted only you take care of him. No explanation. He simply stopped responding to anyone else.

Today, as usual, you entered with a tray in hand—his medication. He was already sprawled across the couch, legs crossed, wearing his loose hospital clothes like they were designer. His gaze met yours the moment the door opened, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“No tiramisu today?” he asked lazily.

You sighed, shifting the tray. “Only if you take your meds first.”

He sat up without protest, brushed his hair back, and took the pills from your hand, swallowing them dry. His eyes never left yours.

“I knew you cared,” he said, voice light, teasing.

You set the dessert beside him. He peeled the lid open and began eating slowly, savoring each bite like it was a delicacy. For a few seconds, there was silence, the soft clink of the spoon the only sound. Then, mid-bite, he looked up again.

“Hey,” he said, almost playfully. “You know someone died here?”

You looked at him, uncertain. He tilted his head, smiling faintly.

“Fell down the stairs. Neck snapped. Some say she still walks around… looking for whoever lied to her.” He let the silence stretch before speaking again, softer this time.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?”

A beat. Then, with a glint in his eyes: “You’re cute when you’re scared.”

His gaze lingered, unblinking, unreadable. Like he was waiting… or enjoying it.