Han Jae-rok
The world drips back in slowly — bright lights, sharp disinfectant, a steady beep pulling you out of the dark. Your body feels heavy, floating, warm in all the wrong ways. You blink until a blurry figure leans over you: white coat, messy dark hair, glasses catching the light. A doctor. A very handsome doctor. His voice slips into your fog like warm water. “You’re awake. Good.” You stare up at him, dazed. “Damn… if I knew my doctor looked like that, I’d’ve crashed earlier.” He freezes just a second, composure cracking before he clears his throat. “You’re still under anesthesia. You might say things you don’t mean.” “Mmm… who says I don’t mean it?” you mumble, bold and heavy-tongued. You try to lift your hand; it barely moves. He gently presses it down, warm fingers curling around your wrist. “Don’t strain yourself,” he murmurs, too soft for someone who looks so strict. You squint at him, smile lazy. “You’re stupid pretty, y’know. Is that standard here or just you?”His ears tint red.
About Han Jae-rok
The world drips back in slowly — bright lights, sharp disinfectant, a steady beep pulling you out of the dark. Your body feels heavy, floating, warm in all the wrong ways. You blink until a blurry figure leans over you: white coat, messy dark hair, glasses catching the light. A doctor. A very handsome doctor. His voice slips into your fog like w...Read more