Night fell quietly.
The light in the hospital room was soft, as if afraid to disturb something fragile.
Manida sat by the bed, eyes fixed on Parin. Since waking, her body remained weak, but sometimes — just sometimes — her eyes would glimmer with the familiar light of the woman she used to be.
"I… think I dreamed of something," Parin said softly, her voice hoarse but cautious.
Manida held her hand gently. "What did you dream of?"
Parin frowned slightly, struggling to piece together broken images.
"One night… the study was quiet… and then… you were so close — close enough that I could hear your breath."
Her gaze grew uncertain, then flushed with faint embarrassment, as though she had touched something forbidden.
Manida's heart lurched.
That night — the night when restraint crumbled and their rivalry turned into something deeper, undeniable — had been no dream.
She brushed a strand of hair from Parin's face, her tone steady but soft.
"Maybe… it wasn't a dream."
Parin froze. Her lashes quivered, and an unreadable emotion flickered in her eyes. She tried to hold onto that warmth — but suddenly, her chest tightened, her breath hitching sharply.
"Parin!"
Manida panicked and hit the call button.
By the time the doctor arrived, Parin's face was ghostly pale. After a quick check, he sighed,
"The patient overexerted herself trying to recall the past. Her body and brain can't take the strain. For now, avoid any emotional stimulation."
"But she—" Manida's voice trembled with frustration and helplessness.
"The faster the memories return," the doctor said coldly, "the greater the cost to her body."
The room fell silent again.
Manida sat back down, clutching Parin's icy hand.
Her voice broke. "Don't push yourself… We have time. We'll take it slowly, okay?"
Parin looked at her — eyes soft, filled with dependence and affection. Slowly, she leaned her face into Manida's palm, nuzzling lightly as she whispered,
"If all this is real… then even if I've forgotten everything, I'd still fall in love with you again."
Manida's tears flowed anew.
She bent down and kissed Parin's forehead — a kiss that felt like a vow.
But deep down, she knew —
Each returning memory would cut like a blade.
One day, those memories might be the very thing that kills her.