Irene rushed into the hospital, rapidly scanning the occupied beds for the familiar face that was usually next to her in bed by this time. She spotted her near the window, looking down at her phone, one hand typing something out as her eyebrows furrowed further and further down. Irene closed her eyes and sighed, trying not to lose her patience as she counted slowly from one to ten. She opened her eyes again and walked towards the patient.

            “Kang Seulgi!”

            The owner of the name jumped, dropping her phone into her lap as she looked in the direction of the annoyed voice. A very angry girlfriend stood with her arms crossed at the foot of the bed, glaring at Seulgi like Seulgi had poured all of Irene’s fabric softener into the drain. The detective smiled sheepishly and scratched her head with the hand she was previously using to text, waving afterwards.

            “Hey, baby. I didn’t know they called you.”

            Irene walked over and slapped Seulgi’s arm, the one that wasn’t in a cast. Seulgi winced slightly and feebly attempted to fend off the hail of slaps on her right bicep. “Hey, hey. Ow!”

            Irene pursed her lips. She didn’t like the condition that her girlfriend was in, and she intended to show it in every way possible. “Were you expecting them not to call me?” She pulled out her phone and pulled up some messages, shoving the screen into the younger girl’s face. “Minho, Krystal, AND Jennie all texted me, saying that you had gotten hurt. Again!” Irene dropped into the chair next to the bed. “This is the third time this month, Seulgi!”

            “I’m sorry, ow—” Seulgi dodged another slap, “I promise it won’t happen again.”

            Irene pushed her chest lightly, eyebrows furrowed. “You said that the last two times!” She looked like she wanted to cry, which prompted Seulgi to lean forward and clasp her tightened fists. Irene shoved her hand away.

            “Please, you know it’s part of the job description, I signed up for the this the moment—”

            “I don’t want to hear it.” Irene pointed at Seulgi. “They told me that you were unconscious for a good hour, and the paramedics had to—” She stopped, wiping her eyes and trying to catch her breath. When Irene had received the texts, her mind had stopped working as the images of Seulgi lying on the ground, bleeding and eyes lifeless, flashed across the forefront of her thoughts, making her drop the glass of juice she had been holding. The first two times that month had been light stuff—cuts from glass debris and a sprained wrist—but this time, Seulgi had been knocked out with a brick and her colleagues had to conduct CPR as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

            Seulgi noticed her girlfriend hyperventilating and knew she was thinking about the time Seulgi almost died. The taller girl scooted carefully to sit on the edge