My nose was buried deep in a medical book opened exactly at the middle of its spine, jotting down notes for another operation I’m assigned to later on. Six book references tediously stacked on my desk, leaflets serving as alternative bookmarks protruding from some of its pages. A protein bar ripped open but left untouched on the plate.

“Have you decided on which fundoplication surgery you’ll be doing for the GERD* patient in Room 298?”

*GERD, short for Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease, is another word for acid reflux. *

 

A looming figure sits on the desk, pushing the books to the corner, and takes the uneaten protein bar.

“I’m still deciding if I’m doing the standard 360-degree Nissen or a 270-deree Toupet. Help me choose?”

 

I look up and see Hajun, without his white coat, stuffing my bar into his mouth. His bangs were all ruffled, messily sticking to his forehead due to sweat. His legs partially leaning.

“Well, as a cardiologist, I’m not the right person to ask, but I suggest ‘go with your instinct’.”

 

He chews a bite-sized, few crumbs of nuts sticking on the edge of his lips. I ignore him, skimming through the words and flipping the pages after having read the entire paragraph. From my periphery, I feel him readjusting in his seat.

“There’s some on your…” I point at my own face, “Nevermind, I’ll get it.”

I pulled some ply of tissue from the tiny pink box you could purchase from your local convenience shop and dabbed it on the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, a wet texture touched my finger and I immediately retracted my hand.

“Yah! What was that for?”

His saliva-coated tongue brushed my index. I recklessly wiped the wetness to my coat, disgust and shock evident on my reddened face due to embarrassment.

“You should’ve seen your face!”

Hajun guffaws, wiping his slobber off with tissue. I checked the analog wall clock.

.

“I got to go to the operating room!”

“Bye?”

Without replying, I grabbed my glasses on the desk and rushed out of the room.

 

 

 

 

“Peace offering?”

A banana milk juice box was ed to my face. It’s been my addiction. Hajun sat across me, sipping his own banana milk. His hands were clasped together on the table, a pout on his face with his cheeks tugged down and , okay those sad eyes are kind of irresistible.

I snatched my juice box off his hand.

“We’re even. I’m not buying you that Americano.”

“Hey.”

He snatches my juice box back, his other hand crushing his already empty one.

“That’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

His dainty fingers detach the short translucent straw from the back of the cartoon, unwraps it, and pops it into the hole. Jihun suddenly appears behind him and takes a huge slurp.

“You !”

Hajun hits Jihun by the arm when he chose to sit beside him. Hajun hands me the juice box and I tucked it into my mouth, intentionally pressing the straw to my tongue in an arduously slow process. Hajun stares at me and I see his eyes trailing down my lips.

He coughs for a while before saying with a flushed face, “So if it’s Jihun’s saliva, you’re fine with it but mine, you’re revolted?”

 “What? You tasted his saliva?!” Jihun’s face was arduously contorted. I can’t wait for the day to see his face finally get stuck to that sour look.

“Was he a sloppy kisser? Knew it. Guess looks don’t always match the skills,” Misuk sits beside me, “Unlucky for Jihun, it’s obvious he isn’t blessed with either.”

“Yah well I’ll have you kno— Aaahhh!”

“Shut it, Jihun. You’re no exception too, Misuk.” Hajun harshly tugs Jihun by the ear which was radiating redder by the second.

“Okay! Okay!” Jihun raises both his arm as a surrender. Misuk was gigging silently, a huge smile on her face as a mockery to Jihun. They’d be indulging at their daily squabble if left un-mitigated.

“I better get going now. I still have some paper works to finish.” Standing up, he dusts his scrub-pants, and gives me a cheeky wink before eventually leaving the cafeteria and throwing the crushed empty juice box into the cylindrical black waste bin.

“I’d be jumping at him if he wasn’t clearly into you.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Misuk takes away my juice box, forcing me to twist my body to face her.

“Jihun, scram. Leave. Shoo. Go,” she waves Jihun away to which he complies, knowing what was about to go down.

“Honest female-to-female talk, what’s up with you and your taste?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hajun obviously has the hots for you. He’s smart, cool, and funny at times. And let’s not get started with his body which is sculpted by the gods. Have you seen his Instagram gym photos? Even grannies often come here complaining of nonexistent pain just to see him. He’s basically a poster-model breathing in our midst. “

I don’t respond.

“Unless Jihun’s your type of guy, but I highly doubt it. No offense intended.”

“I… I honestly don’t know.”

I’m aware Hajun’s cute since you’d be blind not to notice, especially those deep dimples that frames both sides of his cheeks, and his dorky side that he at times embody, but I just can’t feel my attraction towards him. It’s not like I could force it either. Maybe I’m just a career-oriented person. Yea, maybe that’s why.

‘All’s fair in love and war.’ Okay, that statement is kind of biting me in the right now.

“I have a few reasons in mind though…. It’s either you’re aual or gay…”

Definitely not that. I enjoy despite not having had one since coming here. And all my ual partners have been male. With the countless couples have invited me to, I’m a hundred percent certain it’s not my thing. I’ve also been to a public sauna with her and Hana the other day where you have to be completely with strangers of the same , and I never felt any arousal stirring in my… pelvis. So, both options are definitely out of the closet.

“None of those. I can promise you.”

“Okay. But if you were, it would be perfectly fine with me too.”

“So, how’s the BTS Festa you and the other ARMYs in the fan club are doing for their anniversary?”

It was either she played along with me trying to change the topic or BTS really deletes everything from her mind. Her eyes were genuinely sparkling, her arms creating these dramatic gestures.

“OH! We’ve finally had Suga’s standee printed and we’re still deciding J-Hope’s between— Oh , I got to catch this.”

I follow her line of sight. The TV channel was switched to the news, the anchor person talking about a new charting song apparently titled as ‘L.I.E.’ It was catchy, I got to give them that.

Misuk had her phone out, recording the entire speech.

“Why, what’s with it? A BTS collaboration?”

“I wish. It’s EXID. I’m showing this to Jihun, the fanboy needs his vitamins too.”

I chuckle, knowing how it’ll turn out. Misuk would bargain with Jihun, asking him to run some of her menial errands to which Jihun, as the kid that he is, would do but in a careless way. Misuk sends him the file and later would discover, by happenchance, the sloppy task Jihun has accomplished and they’re back to their daily squabbles.

“Alright,” I say standing up, “My work won’t finish by its own so I got to head out.”

I leave the table without finishing what the anchor person has to say.