"Hannah, something terrible has happened! I swear it's the end of the world!"
The girl raised her head from the pillow, her eyes narrowing like thunderclouds as she glared at her friend. He had barged into her room without so much as a knock, his voice carrying unnecessary dramatics that shattered the silence of the late hour.
"You have to help us," Tom continued, panting as if he had just escaped a battlefield. "I swear we're going to go bald in our twenties!"
He threw himself onto the floor in an exaggerated manner, twisting his limbs into strange shapes as though he had been possessed by some demon. Then, clutching at his throat, he rolled his eyes back and pretended he could no longer breathe.
"What on earth is the matter with you?" Hannah demanded, her tone sharp, though still heavy with drowsiness. "Why do you come barging in at such a late hour, when I've already settled down to sleep? I'm tired."
Tom ignored her complaint and crawled closer, his face contorted with desperation.
"I beg you. If you don't help us, none of us will get a wink of sleep tonight. We've already been through this once before." He collapsed at her feet, falling to his knees in mock supplication, his palms pressed together as if in prayer. "You are our only hope of rescue!"
Hannah pressed her lips into a thin line, her patience thinning with every second.
"Tom, start talking more concretely," she warned, "or I'll throw you out of this room right now. I'm not in the mood tonight to entertain your foolishness."
He pouted like a child scolded for mischief.
"The point is that Joseph is sick. He has a fever."
The words made Hannah pause. She studied his face with suspicion, yet she caught the flicker of genuine concern in his eyes.
"And when he gets sick, he becomes unbearable," Tom went on gravely. "Since he can't sleep, he won't allow anyone else to either."
"Because he is selfish," Hannah muttered under her breath, though the shadow of worry softened her tone. "And what exactly do you expect me to do? Take him to a doctor?"
"He won't move from his bed! You know how stubborn he is." Tom's voice rose in frustration, his pleading expression beginning to resemble the infamous cat from Shrek. "Only you can fight him. We don't have the strength anymore."
Hannah's hands curled into fists at the memory of Joseph leaving her stranded earlier. Her pride flared like fire.
"You think I'm going to play doctor for him after he abandoned me and left me to die?" Her eyes flashed with fury. "No. Absolutely not. I promised myself one day I'd grow brave enough to kill him, but apparently nature wants to save me the trouble. Let him die in agony."
Tom stared at her, stunned, as if she had just confessed to a crime.
"And if he really dies," he asked cautiously, "who will you argue with every day? Me? Jin? Bella?… We all know it's always been the two of you clashing like thunderclouds."
Hannah threw her arms up indignantly.
"I don't know what nonsense my roommate has been feeding you, but for the sake of my sanity, I'm going to ignore it."
Tom rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. Everyone in the dormitory had noticed the tension between Hannah and Joseph. Lately, even the walls seemed to hum with gossip about them.
She shot him a sly look and added with mock sweetness, "Since you're begging me so nicely, why don't I sneak into your room instead and personally beat that egotist into silence, so you can finally sleep? What do you say?"
Tom's face lit up with relief, though exhaustion lingered in his eyes.
"Anything," he sighed, "as long as it works. I refuse to show up half-dead at tomorrow's lectures."
*
Before Hannah entered the room, she carefully glanced around the corridor to make sure no one was watching her. Then, moving like a startled mouse, she slipped quietly inside, closing the door behind her.
The faint rustling of a paper bag betrayed her presence. Inside, she had neatly prepared the medicines she had bought at the pharmacy. Her effort was striking—despite her irritation toward Joseph, she had still rushed through the chilly night to make sure he recovered quickly. He might have been selfish, but her mother had taught her that one must help even those who did not deserve it.
Even though Joseph had treated her coldly and with arrogance in recent days, she could not leave him to suffer alone. She knew she would not sleep for a moment if she allowed worry to consume her. That was simply who he was—stubborn, proud, insufferable, but human beneath it all.
She crouched at the edge of the bed and placed her hand gently against his forehead. His skin was burning hot, his face pale and heavy with fatigue.
"Show me how sick you really are, rascal," she muttered, trying to keep her voice light. "I told you that you wouldn't be fine after running outside with wet hair. Autumn is the fastest way to get ill. You're supposedly so intelligent, and yet you behave like a fool."
Joseph opened his eyes slowly, their usual sharpness dulled by fever. His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper."I knew this would happen. You ended up pretending to be a doctor."
Hannah ignored his sarcasm and changed the subject."Where are the boys?"
"Jin said he was the last person you wanted to see right now, so Tom dragged him off to a party. They figured that since you were here taking care of me, they didn't need to worry."
Hannah shook her head, sighing. Of course. That had been their plan all along—they had wanted to go, but guilt tied them to Joseph's bedside. So they had left her, the "silly girl," to handle it instead.
"Well, Bella will be thrilled when she finds out Tom is having fun with other girls," she muttered under her breath.
She pulled medicine from the bag and handed it to him, though his expression reminded her of a child sulking for attention. It was true—when a man got sick, he acted as though he were dying, and women had to flutter around him like bees around a flower.
With a mischievous smile, Hannah pulled cooling baby patches from the box and pressed one gently against his burning forehead. For a fleeting moment, he looked almost boyish, stripped of his usual defenses.
Then, in a broken murmur, he whispered, "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."
Hannah froze. "Sorry." That single word from his lips felt like something rare and precious. She stared at him, not certain if it was the fever speaking.
"I knew Halsey would take you back to the dormitory," he rasped. "That's why I did it."
Her gaze drifted to the dark painting on the wall, avoiding his face. "And what exactly did I do to offend you, Joseph? Did you really think I meant everything I said?"
"You offended me when you claimed you weren't jealous of me," he confessed. His eyes, clouded with fever yet startlingly clear in their honesty, found hers. "That hurt me the most."
Hannah blinked in shock. He had never spoken like this before. He had always kept such emotions buried deep inside, covering them with irritation or anger.
"I only said that in front of Halsey," she explained softly. "She's your first love. I felt… ridiculous."
"She helped me realize something."
Hannah tugged the quilt up under his chin, her hands trembling, her heartbeat rising with unease. "What's that?"
"I've been wondering why I treated you so harshly," he admitted, his words breaking her rhythm of breath. "Halsey made me see that I do it because I'm afraid of letting you too close. She's right. I'm defending myself. Do you know why?"
Her chest tightened. Her instincts screamed what he was about to confess, and the weight of it threatened to undo her. She pressed her lips together, bracing herself.
"Because every day, I like you more and more," Joseph continued, his voice low, vulnerable. "And it's not like what we had before."
"What do you mean?" Her words were barely audible.
"Everything changed when you moved into the dormitory. Your daily presence made me realize how jealous I've become. Our so-called friendship stopped being just that."
Hannah's mind swirled. She couldn't grasp what he truly meant. Fear? Desire? Regret?
"So that's why you've been so cruel to me?" she asked quietly. "What are you defending yourself from?"
Joseph's gaze darkened. "You are exactly like your mother. Not only do you resemble her in appearance, but in spirit. You're sensitive. Too sensitive. You can't stay angry with me, even when I deserve it. And I'm afraid I'll hurt you, Hannah. I'm afraid of repeating the tragedy."
Her throat closed. His words stabbed deep. Was he trying to push her away because he saw in her the shadow of a past he could not escape?
"I don't know what kind of person my biological mother truly was," Hannah whispered, her voice trembling, "but I would never bring about something like that. And if we are pointing blame, Joseph, the fault lies with your father."
"That's exactly it," he said bitterly. "I'm already repeating his mistakes. I'm losing my temper with you, and when you said you weren't jealous of me… it broke something in me."
Her eyes blurred with tears she fought to hold back. He was unraveling her, word by word.
"You're feverish. You're delirious," she insisted, her voice cracking. "If you were healthy, you wouldn't dare say these things."
"No," Joseph countered weakly. "Your sister's situation proved how fragile you are. It broke you enough that you needed treatment."
Her lips quivered as she forced an end to the conversation. "Let's not talk about this anymore. You're sick, Joseph. Sleep. I'll take care of you."
He noticed her glistening eyes, on the edge of spilling tears, and stopped himself from speaking further. Slowly, his eyelids fell shut, surrendering to exhaustion.
Hannah pressed her lips together until they ached, but the tears betrayed her, rolling down her cheeks. She brushed them away hastily, angry at her weakness.
He was right—she was too sensitive, especially when it came to him.
And in that moment, her heart broke. She understood that Joseph would do everything in his power to stop whatever was forming between them. He was strong enough to fight it, while she was condemned to suffer.
Why had fate cursed her to be his mother's daughter? Was this a cruel seal on her destiny—that she could never be with him, that she must either sever all ties or endure the pain until her feelings faded into nothingness?
*
December had settled over the city like a heavy blanket. Not much had changed during that time, and yet, for Hannah, everything felt different. She and Joseph behaved as if the conversation they had shared that night had never taken place, as if it had been buried under the snow along with the autumn leaves. Still, the words lingered inside her, gnawing at her heart. She had accepted the unspoken truth: there was nothing to hope for, and at best, she could remain his friend.
It weighed on her. Ever since the incident at the hotel, when they had nearly kissed in the shower, she had carried the memory like a wound. Each time Joseph drew too close, her chest tightened, her breath catching with painful longing. She hid it well, but Bella was far from blind. With the sharp intuition of someone who understood hearts, she had quickly sensed that something had shifted between them. Their bond no longer looked as carefree as before. There was distance now, a fragile wall neither of them dared to break.
He was strong. She was weak. And for that reason, she suffered most of all.
That afternoon, Hannah stood before the university, watching the first snowflakes drift lazily through the air. They melted against her scarf and eyelashes, fragile as her own hopes. In the distance, she noticed Tom chasing after her roommate, his laughter echoing across the courtyard, lighthearted and oblivious.
The memory of Bella's first quarrel with him surfaced. She had discovered that he had been flirting with other girls at a party, and with her usual frankness, she had confronted him. She had demanded clarity—what did he truly want from her? Did he wish to remain a carefree student, free of ties, or did he want to be with her? In the end, Tom had chosen her, and since then their feelings had begun to blossom more openly, though they still had not named their bond. Hannah, uncertain, did not even know if they could be called a couple. For now, they let silence define it.
Hannah pulled her scarf higher over her face and folded her arms tightly across her chest, shivering as the wind brushed through her coat. At that moment, she noticed Jin making his way toward the building. They still exchanged words on occasion, but their connection was nothing like it had been in high school. He seemed withdrawn, burdened, unable even to meet her eyes. Secrets clung to him like a shadow, eroding what remained of their friendship. She wasn't sure anymore if they were even friends at all. The silence between them had become a chasm.
When he passed by without acknowledging her, Hannah called softly, her voice tinged with worry.
"Are you all right? Are you feeling well?"
Jin stopped and looked at her, his eyes distant, as though he were elsewhere.
"I couldn't sleep last night," he admitted, his voice faint. "It's only tiredness." He forced a thin smile that failed to reach his eyes.
"Those secrets are destroying you," Hannah whispered, her gaze searching his pale face. "I can see it. Every day you look worse. You should confide in someone—anyone. I'm not saying it has to be me, but if you keep carrying it alone, you'll break."
For a fleeting moment, something flickered in his expression—regret, sorrow, the weight of unspoken truth.
"I swear," he murmured, his voice heavy with despair, "in the end I won't be able to stand it. One day, I'll reveal every detail of the burden I carry."
Before she could reply, his eyes brimmed with tears, and he turned sharply, disappearing through the enormous university doors, leaving Hannah with a hollow ache in her chest.
She knew then, with no doubt at all, that Jin was in pain. His suffering was etched into every line of his weary face, into the way he carried himself. Someone, she was certain, was connected to her sister's death, and Jin's desperate silence confirmed it.
*
So what if Joseph was not rude to her? Ever since that conversation, something had gone wrong, and he had begun treating her as if she were nothing more than a younger sister—though in the past he had denied her even the right to call him brother. His behavior confused her endlessly. At times, Hannah wondered if his unpredictable mood swings meant he was the one having a period.
She had already stopped trying to understand him. Part of her wished he would go back to teasing her, to the playful torment that at least had warmth in it, instead of the strange detachment that now defined his every glance. Should she blame Halsey for it—for making him unnecessarily aware of the truth? She had been tempted more than once to heap all her resentment onto that girl. And yet, on the day they had spoken, something in her shifted. Against her own expectations, Hannah had admitted that Halsey was not so bad after all.
Now, with her brows furrowed, she watched Joseph across the cafeteria. He sat at a table with a striking female colleague from the faculty, her silver-streaked hair catching the light as she laughed brightly at something he said. When Joseph teased her, the woman playfully covered her mouth with one hand and poked his arm with the other. And then, as if sensing the weight of Hannah's stare, Joseph looked up. His eyes found hers, and for a moment, the air thickened between them.
"Don't take it out on the food. It's not to blame," Bella murmured, squatting beside her roommate with a knowing expression. Compassion softened her gaze when she realized what had ignited Hannah's anger.
"You were right all along," Hannah whispered bitterly. "And I only realized it now, when this idiot got something into his head. I've completely lost it over him. I don't even understand why. Back in high school, I hated him. Later, sure, he helped me, and I became friends with this selfish man. But how did it happen that he was the one who won my heart? He's a selfish boor who loves to oppress people."
Bella tilted her head, studying her with amused eyes.
"You've listed his flaws. And what about his virtues—other than the fact he helped you through a difficult time?"
Hannah pulled a face like a sulking child.
"I'm not going to say he's handsome. That's obvious. If he were ugly, he'd never be so cocky or confident." She stabbed her spoon into her food with irritation. "But… he's caring. He knows how to take care of me, especially when I need it most. There's something about him. It isn't just his looks that attract girls—he has this… charisma."
Bella suppressed a laugh at the expression on her roommate's face. Hannah had clearly lost her head for him, and it showed with painful clarity.
"On the one hand, you're lucky. On the other hand, you're doomed—because he's the one you fell for."
Hannah looked up at her helplessly, her eyes pleading for guidance.
"How am I lucky? I'm suffering because of him."
"Don't you know? Anyone can see he's losing his mind over you, too. Okay, maybe something's gotten into him lately, but trust me, he won't keep this distance forever. You'll see—you'll remember my words the day he suddenly grabs you and pulls you into some whirlwind romance."
"Bella!" Hannah's cheeks burned crimson. Her roommate's bold imagination was too much.
"What?" Bella rolled her eyes. "Why are you embarrassed? It's natural. Tom and I are the same. Lately, he's been driving me insane, and I finally told him he needed to claim me."
Hannah nearly choked on her food.
"What—you mean, you two are officially in a relationship?"
"I don't know if it's official," Bella shrugged, smirking. "But he's too divine to let go. Anyway, he's mine."
Hannah could hardly believe it. Tom, with all his foolish jokes and boyish energy—was he really in love?
"Hannah?"
She looked up quickly and froze. Joseph stood over her, his eyes carrying a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.
"Last night, I was talking with the guys, and we came up with an idea." He crouched down beside her, and Bella wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.
"What idea?" Hannah asked, her throat dry as his hand rested on the back of her chair. He behaved as if her closeness meant nothing—or perhaps he hid it well.
"The month-long holidays are coming," he explained. "So how about we go to the mountains? Your friend will surely agree, since Tom is going with us." His eyes flicked toward Bella, who instantly brightened. "Right?"
"Of course I'll agree! No way I'm spending a whole month just with my family. Hannah, this isn't something to think twice about," she said eagerly, already imagining the trip.
But Hannah's chest tightened. She looked at Joseph for a long moment, and the ache inside her deepened. Ever since he had made her realize there could be nothing more between them, she had stopped believing she stood a chance. He was too stubborn, too unyielding.
How could she possibly endure his presence, knowing she would suffer every day?
"I don't know if I'll feel like going," she said quietly. "For now, this idea doesn't please me at all."
Joseph rose without a word and walked away. His departure left an empty heaviness at the table. Bella's joy faltered when he cast her a sharp glance.
"You like a challenge? Good," he said flatly. "Because you'll have to persuade her to come with us."
"Me? Why me? You're the reason she doesn't want to go!" Bella protested, paling.
Joseph's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Do you want to spend time in the mountains, or should I talk to my friend about you?"
Bella swallowed hard, suddenly meek.
"All right. I'll do my best. I want her to come too."