Whispers Among Pages || Jeon Wonwoo

Chapter 3: Unwritten Pages

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The hospital was quieter than usual that evening. The hum of activity had dulled, leaving the halls bathed in a strange calm. Jiyeon's feet carried her automatically toward the library after her shift, the anticipation of a familiar retreat guiding her steps.

When she stepped inside, the warmth of the room greeted her, but this time, it wasn't empty. Wonwoo was already there, seated in their usual corner, a notebook open on the small table in front of him. His pen hovered over the page as if the words were stuck somewhere between his mind and his hand.

She paused in the doorway, watching him. There was a quiet intensity in his expression, a focus that made her hesitate to interrupt. But then he glanced up, catching sight of her, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips.

"You're early," he said, closing the notebook slightly as she approached.

"Technically, I'm on time," Jiyeon replied with a teasing smile, taking the seat across from him. Her eyes flicked to the notebook. "What's that?"

"Nothing special," Wonwoo said, shifting it closer to him, but not quite hiding it.

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem like the type to write 'nothing special.'"

He chuckled, a soft sound that made the corners of her own mouth lift. "It's... just thoughts. Things I don't know how to say out loud."

Jiyeon nodded, understanding instantly. She'd had her share of thoughts she couldn't voice, the kind that swirled in her head during long nights on call or lingered in the quiet moments before sleep.

"Do you write often?" she asked.

"Not really. I started while I was in here. Something about being stuck in a hospital makes you think too much."

"Fair," Jiyeon said with a wry smile. "Do you find it helps?"

Wonwoo considered her question, his gaze dropping to the notebook. "Sometimes. It's like talking to someone who won't talk back."

"Or judge," she added.

His smile widened slightly. "Exactly."

For a moment, the room felt heavier—not unpleasantly so, but with a weight that came from honesty shared between strangers who were slowly becoming something more. Jiyeon leaned back in her chair, letting the moment settle before changing the subject.

"Have you finished The Shadow of the Wind yet?"

Wonwoo shook his head. "Not yet. I keep getting distracted."

"By writing?"

"By a nurse who keeps sitting in my chair," he said with mock seriousness.

Jiyeon laughed, the sound bright against the quiet backdrop of the library. "I don't recall it having your name on it."

"Maybe I should fix that," he teased, reaching for his pen.

"Go ahead," she challenged, folding her arms.

He glanced at her, clearly amused, but instead of writing in his notebook, he slid it toward her. "Here. You write something."

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

"Why not?"

Jiyeon hesitated, her fingers brushing against the cover. "I'm not sure I have anything worth writing."

"You sat here and told me healing isn't linear," Wonwoo said, his tone soft but firm. "You probably have more worth writing than you think."

The sincerity in his words caught her off guard. She looked at him, searching for any hint of teasing, but his expression was open, earnest.

Taking the pen, she opened the notebook to a blank page. The smooth paper stared back at her, inviting but intimidating. She glanced at Wonwoo, who nodded in encouragement.

After a moment, she began to write. Her words came slowly at first, then faster, filling the page with thoughts she didn't even realize she'd been carrying. When she finished, she set the pen down, pushing the notebook back to him without meeting his eyes.

Wonwoo didn't say anything right away. He read silently, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in her words. When he finished, he looked up at her, his gaze steady.

"You're right," he said softly. "This was worth writing."

Jiyeon felt her cheeks warm but managed a smile. "Maybe you should take your notebook back before I fill the whole thing."

"Maybe I'll let you," Wonwoo replied, his tone light but his eyes holding something deeper.

They spent the rest of the evening in quiet companionship, the notebook resting between them like an unspoken promise. As the library lights flickered their usual warning, Jiyeon rose to leave, feeling lighter than she had in days.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like her own unwritten pages might hold something worth looking forward to.

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