"How did you do that?" he asked, looking amused and impressed.
"Do what?" she replied.
He smiled. "You saved me in that meeting. How did you prepare for all that?"
She grinned. "Oh, that was easy. After you told me about the meeting yesterday, I just went through the company's history, growth, and your contribution there. That's all."
He chuckled. "That was impressive. You sounded like a real professional, like you've worked there for years."
She smiled. "It's nothing. I did my master's in business administration, so it was no big deal."
He smiled again, and then they went for the therapy session.
Every session, his progress was small but steady, a flicker of movement, a longer contraction, a stronger grip. And every time, Hauen celebrated it like it was a miracle.
"You twitched again!" she'd exclaim.
He'd roll his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "You make it sound like I won a marathon."
"You will," she'd reply softly. "One day."
One afternoon, after a long session, they sat by the window in the living room. Rain fell softly outside, tapping against the glass. Suho sat in his wheelchair, hair still damp from his shower, a blanket covering his legs. Hauen sat beside him, holding two mugs of tea.
He stared out at the rain. "You ever wonder if things will ever be normal again?"
She looked at him, then smiled. "Define normal."
He chuckled faintly. "Being able to walk on my own, work again, not depending on anyone… not on you."
She stirred her tea quietly. "You'll get there, Suho. But don't talk like depending on someone is a weakness."
He turned to her. "You don't get tired of taking care of me?"
Her lips curved gently. "I get tired, yes. But never of you."
His heart skipped. Something in her tone disarmed him. Warm, honest, and quiet.
He smiled faintly. "You say things like that and make it hard to stay detached."
She grinned. "Then don't. I'm not asking you to stay detached. Just stay hopeful."
He looked at her for a long moment, the woman who somehow filled every silent space in his day with calm.
By evening, the mood had lightened again. She helped him transfer to bed, setting his pillow right.
"Goodnight, Mr. Kim."
He smirked sleepily. "No 'teddy bear' tonight?"
She looked down at him, teasing. "Only if you promise not to act like a grumpy one tomorrow."
He laughed quietly, eyes fluttering shut. "Deal."
And as the rain continued outside, Hauen stood there for a moment, watching him sleep, his face finally peaceful.
For the first time since his accident, Suho looked like he was healing, not just his legs, but his heart.
The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Suho sat in his wheelchair, his brows furrowed as he tried to lift his leg with the resistance band. His therapist had given him a few new exercises to try on his own and a quiet room, quiet, except for the faint sound of Hauen humming near the table.
"You're sulking again," she teased, glancing at him from across the room. He gave her a mock glare. "You try doing this and see how it feels."
She laughed softly and walked over, crouching beside him. "You're doing better than yesterday."
"Better?" he scoffed. "That's your polite way of saying I still suck."
"Exactly." She grinned.
He shook his head but couldn't help smiling.
When he finished his last rep, he leaned back, panting lightly. Hauen grabbed the towel and dabbed his forehead gently.
"See? You did it," she said, her voice softer now.
He looked at her, hair falling in loose strands, eyes warm with quiet pride." Do you ever get tired of babysitting me?" he asked, almost shyly.
Her expression softened. "Don't say that, Suho. You're not a burden,"
"Then what am I?" he asked, half-teasing, half curious.
She smiled teasingly. "A pain in the ass I love too much to leave alone."
He laughed, shaking his head. "You sound like my punishment and my comfort at the same time.
"Exactly." She smiled, playfully nudging his shoulder.
He looked at her, his usual teasing smile replaced with quiet gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Hauen."
She laughed lightly, squeezing his hand. "You'd probably still be sulking in this penthouse, thinking Yerin would come back."
His lips twitched, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he leaned slightly forward, resting a hand over hers. "I think… I think I'm ready to let go. Not completely, maybe… but your presence makes me feel like I can survive everything."
Hauen's heart swelled. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere. Not until you can walk to me without support. Not until you're stronger than ever."
He leaned back, finally allowing himself to relax, a small laugh escaping him. "You're relentless."
"And proud of it," she teased, then whispered softly, ruffling his hair, "and proud of you, Teddy bear."
He chuckled softly, glancing up at her with that familiar spark in his tired eyes. "You really have to call me that?"
Hauen tilted her head, smiling as she pushed his wheelchair through the quiet corridor. "Yep. Because you do look like one."
He pretended to frown, puffing his cheeks a little. "Once I'm back on my legs, I'll get in shape again. No more teddy bear."
She slowed down, her voice dropping into something warm and teasing. "Then I'll miss this version of you… this soft, fluffy one."
He blinked at her words, and a faint pink crept across his face. For a moment, he just watched her, how the morning light touched her hair, how her eyes curved with that gentle smile.
Later that evening, when she helped him transfer from the wheelchair to the bed, their usual banter softened into something quieter. He held her wrist a moment longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over her skin.
"Hey," he said, voice low. "Thanks for not giving up on me."
She met his gaze and smiled. "You make it hard to give up."
He chuckled. "You're gonna make me think I'm special."
"You already are." She smiled.
He blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. For a second, the air between them felt heavier, charged, intimate. Then she looked away, breaking the spell with a playful tone.
"Now go to sleep before you flirt your way out of therapy tomorrow."
He laughed softly. "I'm only motivated when you're around, though. You make it annoyingly easy."
"Then I'll make sure to keep annoying you," she said, tucking the blanket over him.
Suho slept with a smile, because healing didn't feel like a lonely fight anymore.