The theatre corridor was quieter than the rest of the hospital, but not peaceful. It had its own kind of tension—clean walls, cold air, and that sharp smell of disinfectant that clung to your skin even after you left. The lights above were bright, almost too bright, reflecting off the tiled floor like the corridor was always freshly washed.
Ziana walked through it slowly, her bag on her shoulder, her theatre cap still in her hand. She wasn't rushing. Not anymore. The emergency case was done, the patient was stable, and her body was finally remembering how tired it actually was.
She passed Theatre One, then Theatre Two, then slowed near the small bench area where staff usually sat to breathe for a second before going back into the madness. She didn't plan to stop, but something made her eyes shift.
And that's when she saw him.
Dr. Chol.
He was sitting like he owned the corridor.
Not sprawled out like a careless person, but relaxed in that quiet confident way that made it obvious he wasn't trying to impress anyone—he just naturally looked like that. His scrub top was slightly loose around his shoulders, his sleeves pushed up a little, exposing his forearms. His mask was hanging below his chin, and his cap was still on, covering most of his hair.
He his legs spread wide over, phone in his hand, thumb scrolling like he wasn't just inside an emergency ex lap ten minutes ago.
Like surgery was just a casual hobby.
Ziana's steps slowed without her permission.
She didn't know why she noticed small things—like how his jaw looked sharper when he wasn't speaking, or how his eyes seemed calmer now that the pressure was gone. He looked younger outside the theatre, less like a surgeon and more like a man who could easily be mistaken for someone's boyfriend/ husband.
A dangerous-looking boyfriend… lol
Ziana cleared her throat slightly, mostly to remind herself she wasn't a child.
She kept walking.
But before she could pass him fully, Chol's voice came, lazy and amused.
"Senior tech."
Ziana paused.
She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. "Doctor."
Chol looked up from his phone like he had been waiting for her to notice him, his mouth pulling into a small smile that was half teasing and half trouble.
"You're avoiding me," he said.
Ziana blinked. "Avoiding you?"
Chol nodded, still smiling. "You walked in like you didn't see me."
Ziana stared at him for a second, then scoffed softly. "I saw you."
"Mm," he hummed, like he didn't believe her. "Then why didn't you greet?"
Ziana adjusted her bag strap. "I greeted. I said doctor."
Chol leaned back against the wall, looking too comfortable. "That's not greeting. That's work."
Ziana frowned slightly. "So what do you want me to say?"
Chol's eyes dragged over her face slowly, like he was studying her. The way he looked at her wasn't rude, but it was bold. Too bold for someone she had just met today.
He smiled wider.
"I want you to say my name," he said.
Ziana's heartbeat jumped a little, and she hated that it did.
She forced her voice to stay calm. "Chol."
He nodded once, satisfied, like she had just passed a test.
"There," he said. "Now you're greeting properly."
Ziana rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile. She tried to stop it, but it came anyway. It always came. That soft, warm smile that made people think she was harmless.
Chol's eyes darkened slightly when he saw it, like her smile amused him more than it should.
"You smile too easily," he said.
Ziana shrugged. "I'm just a happy person."
Chol laughed under his breath. "Liar."
Ziana's brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
Chol tapped his phone lightly with his thumb. "Happy people don't scrub in an ex lap like they're going to war. You were too serious."
Ziana stared at him, slightly annoyed that he had noticed.
"That's how you're supposed to be," she replied. "It's surgery, not a party."
Chol smirked. "But I played music."
Ziana gave him a look. "You're not normal."
Chol laughed again, this time louder. It wasn't a mocking laugh, it was real, and it made him look even more dangerous because it softened him.
"I've been told that before," he said, then glanced at her bag. "You're leaving?"
Ziana nodded. "Yes. I'm done for today."
Chol looked down the corridor, then back at her. "Where do you stay?"
Ziana hesitated.
That question was normal on the surface… but coming from him, it sounded like it had layers. Like he wasn't just asking out of politeness.
She answered carefully. "Not far."
Chol clicked his tongue. "Not far is not an address."
Ziana's eyes narrowed again. "Why do you want to know?"
Chol leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked on hers. His voice dropped into that calm playful tone again, like he was enjoying the little fight she kept giving him.
"Because," he said, "it's late. And I don't like the idea of you struggling on the road."
Ziana's chest tightened a little.
She didn't know why that sentence sounded like concern… but also sounded like control.
She crossed her arms. "I'm fine."
Chol's gaze swept over her scrubs again, then her tired eyes, then her posture. He looked like he was reading her, and it irritated her.
"You're not fine," he said simply.
Ziana scoffed. "Doctor, I can take care of myself."
Chol nodded like he respected the statement, but his eyes still held that stubborn dominance that didn't move easily.
"I know," he said. "That's why you're still standing. But you're tired."
Ziana swallowed.
He was right.
She hated that he was right.
The corridor went quiet for a moment. The only sound was distant footsteps and the faint hum of theatre machines behind closed doors.
Then Chol stood up.
He was tall the same height as Ziana. Up close than she had realized. Tall enough that Ziana's eyes met his. He slipped his phone into his pocket and adjusted his scrub top like he was preparing for something.
"I'm going out now," he said casually. "Let me drop you."
Ziana blinked. "Drop me?"
Chol nodded. "Yes."
Ziana shook her head quickly. "No, it's okay. I can manage."
Chol's lips curved.
He stepped closer, not too close, but enough that Ziana could smell the clean scent of antiseptic on him mixed with something warmer—maybe cologne, maybe just him.
"You can manage," he repeated, voice calm. "I'm not arguing with you about that. I'm offering."
Ziana stared at him, her fingers tightening around her cap.
"I don't even know you," she said.
Chol's eyes flickered with amusement.
"You know my name," he replied. "That's enough for a ride."
Ziana frowned. "That's not enough."
Chol tilted his head, watching her like he enjoyed her resistance.
"Ziana," he said slowly, saying her name again like it belonged in his mouth, "I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm offering to drop you up to the main road. That's all."
Ziana hesitated.
He wasn't wrong.
It was late. The sun had started setting, and Avalon's surroundings could get messy in the evenings. The road outside the hospital was always chaotic—boda bodas, men calling out, people pushing.
She hated that part.
But still…
Getting into a surgeon's car—someone she met today—felt like something that could lead to unnecessary drama.
And Ziana didn't like drama.
At least not in real life.
Chol watched her struggle with the decision, then smiled again, that same calm teasing smile.
"You're thinking too much," he said. "Come."
The way he said come wasn't rude.
It was soft.
But it was still an order.
And the scariest part?
Her body reacted before her brain did.
Ziana sighed, defeated, and nodded once.
"Fine," she said. "But only up to the main road."
Chol's smile widened like he had just won a game.
"Good girl," he said casually, like it was normal.
Ziana froze.
Her eyes snapped up to his.
"What did you just say?"
Chol blinked innocently. "I said good."
Ziana narrowed her eyes. "No. You said good girl."
Chol's smile turned wicked. "Did I?"
Ziana stared at him, annoyed, but her cheeks were heating up and she hated that too.
Chol turned and started walking down the corridor like he already knew she would follow.
"Come, Senior Tech," he said over his shoulder. "Before I change my mind and leave you here."
Ziana stood for a second, watching him walk away with that calm confident stride.
Then she muttered under her breath—
"This man is crazy."
But she followed anyway.