The clinic room was warm, the faint smell of herbal oil drifting through the air. Hye-jin sat on the edge of the massage table, her fingers twisting the hem of the robe Harin had given her. Her cheeks were already pink, her heartbeat skipping too fast. This was her last therapy session before she returned to camp, and she knew she should focus on recovery—on her shoulder, her back, her posture.
But her body remembered too much.
She lowered herself onto the table as instructed, lying face-down with her arms tucked by her sides. The cool linen pressed against her breasts, making her nipples harden instantly. She cursed herself under her breath—why did this always happen here? It wasn't just his hands, it was… him.
The door clicked, and she heard the soft steps of Joon-ho entering.
"Ready?" His voice was calm, as always.
"Yes…" She swallowed, trying to sound steady.
