A Backstage Love I Han Jisung x Reader

Another Adventure

The day had started like any other, with the sun streaming through the windows of the rehabilitation room. Han and I were alone, working through my physical therapy routine. He was encouraging as usual, his presence a steady source of support. We had made a lot of progress, and I was determined to push myself further today.

"Alright, Y/N," Han said, glancing at the timer on his watch. "Let's see if we can increase the intensity a bit today. Remember to listen to your body, okay?"

I nodded, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "I'm ready. I think I can handle more today."

Han raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because last time you tried to 'handle more,' I ended up calling for backup."

I gave him a determined look. "I won't need backup this time. I've learned from my mistakes."

He chuckled, clearly not convinced. "I think you've learned how to make things dramatic, if anything."

We started with the usual exercises, gradually increasing the difficulty. My muscles burned with the effort, but I was fueled by a mix of determination and the desire to prove to myself that I could overcome this challenge. I pushed through the pain, attempting to lift more weight and extend my movements beyond what I had done before.

Han, as always, watched me closely. "Take it slow, Y/N," he said, concern barely masked behind his encouragement. "You don't want to end up on the floor again. I don't think I can carry you to the hospital this time."

I flashed him a mischievous grin. "Oh, come on, I didn't even get to take you out for lunch last time. You missed your chance."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not be carrying you to dinner in a hospital gown," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes but kept pushing myself harder. "You know, you'd be a great nurse. Always telling me what not to do."

He snorted. "If you listen to me, maybe you wouldn't end up in a hospital gown every few weeks."

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm trying to break my personal records here!" I grunted, trying to lift a heavier weight.

Han stepped in, his hand brushing against mine. "That's not a record worth breaking, Y/N. Not when it involves risking your health."

"I'm fine," I said, voice strained but resolute. "I just want to push past my limits."

As the minutes ticked by, I continued to push myself harder, ignoring the growing discomfort. My movements became more erratic, my breathing more labored. I focused on the exercise, determined to reach my new goal.

Then, without warning, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I tried to ignore it, but the intensity of the pain was overwhelming. I stumbled, and Han's immediate concern was evident.

"Y/N, stop! What's wrong?" he shouted, rushing to my side.

I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach. The pain was excruciating, and I could feel something wasn't right. Han's face went pale as he noticed the blood seeping through my clothes.

"I...I think I've done something wrong," I managed to gasp, tears streaming down my face.

Han's expression turned to one of panic. He quickly called for help, his voice trembling as he explained the situation. The physical therapist and medical staff rushed in, their faces serious as they assessed the situation.

The room became a flurry of activity. I could hear the concerned voices of the medical staff and Han's frantic attempts to stay calm. The pain was overwhelming, and I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.

Hours later...

I woke up in a hospital bed, that same smell of antiseptics and disinfectants enveloping me. The rhythmic beeping of medical equipment, the faint hum of air conditioning, and the cold, clinical feel of the room were all too familiar. My body ached with an intensity that only added to my frustration. The dull pain in my abdomen was a harsh reminder of the recent accident.

I tried to move, but the discomfort was overwhelming. Each shift in position seemed to aggravate the pain, and I felt a wave of anger at myself for letting things go so wrong. I knew this environment all too well—had spent more time in these sterile, impersonal rooms than I cared to remember.

Han was sitting beside my bed, looking worn and distressed. His eyes, red-rimmed and tired, betrayed how deeply the situation had affected him. When he saw me stirring, a mix of relief and anxiety crossed his face.

"Y/N, you're awake," he said, his voice trembling. "They took care of you. You're going to be okay, but we need to take it slow from now on."

I tried to speak, but my voice was weak and raspy. "Han... I'm so sorry. I thought I could handle more, and now I'm back here again."

Han sighed deeply and placed a hand over mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're allowed to rest, you know. I've got enough energy for both of us right now."

I gave him a weak smile, but the tears came anyway. "I hate this. I hate that I keep falling back into this... thing."

Han's thumb traced circles on my hand, a small, calming gesture. "I get it. But it's not about being perfect, it's about getting back up every time you fall."

I took deep, shaky breaths, trying to regain control over my emotions. The tears continued to fall, but Han's presence and his comforting words helped ground me.

"Do you think you're up for a change of scenery?" Han's voice broke through my thoughts, filled with a hint of mischief. "I have an idea."