Saera’s vision blurred with every passing second. Each movement felt like a struggle, the world around her spinning into distortion. Painful memories started flooding her mind—images of mocking laughter, accusing stares, harsh words, and all the hurtful things she had been subjected to.

The weight of these memories hit her chest like a heavy stone, making it difficult to breathe.

Her legs felt like lead, each step slow, unstable, and heavier than the last. Her feet dragged across the pavement, and it felt like she couldn’t move fast enough, like the ground was pulling her down.

She tried to push away the intrusive thoughts—but they wouldn’t leave. The laughter, the judgmental fingers pointing at her, their voices echoing in her mind. She couldn’t escape them.

"No... no... p-please..." she mumbled, her voice trembling. Her legs were shaking violently now, making her stumble and falter with every step. “S-stop... please, stop..."

She was almost at her apartment, just one block away. The fading beige walls of the building came into view, but it seemed distant, unreachable. Her heart tightened in fear as she realized how far away it felt, how uncertain she was of making it home. I need to get there. I need my medication. I can’t calm down without it.

Her legs finally gave way, her knees buckling beneath her. She collapsed to the ground, pain shooting through her body from the impact, but it didn’t matter. The emotional pain in her chest was worse—much worse. She tried to steady herself but couldn’t. Her breath came in shallow, desperate gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to get enough air.

She felt like she was suffocating, her lungs screaming for oxygen as her chest tightened painfully. Her mouth hung open as she tried to suck in air, but it felt like it wasn’t enough, like she could never catch her breath. It felt like the weight on her chest was pushing down on her, making it impossible to inhale properly.

In a panic-driven, instinctual move, Saera crawled toward the nearest wall, hoping the cold surface might bring her some comfort. Her palms pressed against the rough texture, but the cold did little to ease the heat building up inside her. She lay back against the ground, bringing her legs up, expecting that by lifting them, she could regulate her breathing somehow.

“1…”

She began counting, focusing all her energy on the numbers as her eyes squeezed shut. Each number was an anchor, keeping her from sinking deeper into the chaos inside her mind. But the memories kept coming, pushing their way through every gap she tried to create. The faces, the words, the situations—all flashing before her eyes, blocking out everything else.

“2…”

Her breathing was still rapid, but she focused on the sky, the darkening clouds overhead, trying to bring her mind somewhere else. Somewhere peaceful.

“3…”

She continued counting, remembering what her therapist had taught her, the grounding techniques that helped her regain control. Focus, count, breathe, just breathe.

“10…”

She took another deep breath, though it was still shallow and labored. The tightness in her chest had begun to loosen, but the air still felt thin, hard to reach. Slowly, her mind started to clear, the panic slowly receding. She could see the sky more clearly now—dark navy clouds, a hint of stars beginning to peek through.

The tears still flowed, but her face was expressionless, empty.

Her body had calmed, but her mind felt hollow, like a void had settled inside her where the panic had been.

Thirty minutes passed, and Saera was still sitting on the cold ground, staring up at the sky with vacant eyes. The counting had helped—this time, the panic didn’t completely consume her. But the aftermath, the numbness, was still there, like a heavy blanket pressing down on her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being empty, like she had left a piece of herself behind in the storm of emotions.

She slowly pushed herself upright, her hands pressing into the ground for support. The numbness in her arms made it feel like they didn’t belong to her, but she managed to sit up. Her hands wiped away the tears that had been streaming down her face, but they didn’t stop the emptiness inside her.

She looked around at her surroundings—an old, cracked wall nearby, a trash can sitting carelessly on the sidewalk, and a flickering streetlight casting a dim, yellowish glow. Nothing here felt comforting. It was all just cold, harsh reality. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so detached from everything.

Her hands, which had been trembling from the panic attack, felt stiff and dirty now, like they weren’t even hers. She wiped them together in an attempt to rid herself of the grime, but it didn’t help. The feeling of filth wouldn’t go away. She tried to push herself up, but her legs were weak. Her body felt like it had given up, the lingering effects of the attack weighing heavily on her.

But she somehow managed to stand, though she didn’t feel fully grounded. She walked toward her apartment, taking each step carefully as if her legs might collapse beneath her. Her mind felt distant, disconnected, and for the next fifteen minutes, she barely thought about anything. Everything felt like a blur, her body moving on autopilot.

When she reached the building, she struggled with the passcode. Her fingers felt like they were no longer working properly, stiff and uncoordinated. She barely acknowledged the old security guard’s concerned gaze as she entered the building. She only managed a weak smile before she trudged toward the elevator.

“Are you okay, dear?” he asked, his voice full of worry.

“Yeah, ahjussi. Just tired. I need to rest. Good night,” Saera mumbled, trying to reassure him, but her words felt hollow, as if they didn’t mean anything at all.

He nodded, watching her with lingering concern but didn’t press further. I don't think she's alright, the old man thought as he took his phone and dialed a number.

"Yeobeoseyo? Ahjussi, how are you? Is Saera okay?" Namjoon’s voice suddenly raised on the line, not giving the man a chance to respond.

"I'm good, Namjoonah, but I think Saera isn't well. Her face was so pale, and she was breathing heavily," he informed the young model.

Upon hearing the first sentence, Namjoon immediately got up from the sofa where he had been reading a novel. He combed his hair back, worry instantly filling his stomach.

"Thank you very much for calling, ahjussi. I'm on my way there."

"Okay, son. Take care," the old man said, relieved to hear that the younger man was coming.

Namjoon hung up the phone as he grabbed his coat and car keys and headed for the door.

That’s why I was worried sick earlier; I felt like something was wrong. I should’ve gone to see her. Damn it, Namjoon chastised himself for not checking on her sooner.

His gut hadn’t stopped telling him that something was off. Maybe she was in a difficult situation, or perhaps she was sick. It turned out the second hypothesis was correct.

In no time, Namjoon parked his car in front of her building. He hurried inside, waving to the old man in his chair, and quickly approached her door, knocking loudly as his heart raced.

"What's wrong with you?" Saera groaned as she opened the door weakly. "Didn’t find someone to murder today, or what? Why are you mistreating my poor do—?"

Saera's words died halfway as Namjoon hugged her tightly, barely giving her space to breathe. He was relieved that something truly terrible hadn’t happened.

On the other hand, Saera was grateful that Namjoon had come. She didn't want to be alone with her nasty memories that wouldn’t leave her in peace. She welcomed his warm embrace, savoring his familiar scent that she never got enough of.

Vanilla scent... He’s still using the same shampoo I gave him for his birthday...

"Saera, are you okay?" Namjoon mumbled slowly as he pulled back, still holding her in his large, veined hands.

"Are you here for a war or something, Nam? Why are you so loud?" Saera smiled weakly at his worried expression. She tried to walk toward her couch, but he remained frozen, examining her condition. "Are you planning to stand there all night? I'm too weak for that, please," she said, looking at him.

Namjoon couldn't stop blaming himself as he noticed how pale her face was and how slowly she was breathing. He gulped when he heard her say she couldn't stand anymore and immediately led her to the couch, where she lay down, exhausted from everything that had happened before he arrived.

"What happened, Saera? You're not looking well," Namjoon asked her worriedly as he gently helped her rest her head on the pillow.

"My panic attacks..." Saera mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"What? I thought they hadn’t occurred for a long time. Isn’t that right?" The model asked, confused. He knew Saera had struggled with these attacks, but it had been a while since the last one.

"I don't know, Nam. I really don't know. It just happened when I was on my way back home," Saera explained, turning her face toward him as he sat on the floor in front of her.

"What happened? Just tell me everything that occurred before and after," Namjoon demanded.

"Before that, could you please bring me my medication and a glass of water?"

"But you managed without them before; there's no need for that—"

"Namjoon, please! I can’t bear the pain in my head right now, please!" Saera pleaded, her eyes barely open. Namjoon couldn’t argue further, so he got to his feet and went to search for her medication.

Passing through the kitchen, he grabbed a glass of water. When he returned to the living room, he heard gentle snores coming from the passed-out figure of Saera on the couch.

He sadly smiled to himself as he looked at her peaceful expression. He set the glass of water and the pills on the small table and went back to her room to grab a blanket. Namjoon returned to the living room and covered her with the blanket, gently petting her head as he admired her features.

"You're so beautiful, Ra. You don’t deserve all of this..." Namjoon murmured as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and quietly got up.

The next morning, Saera groaned when she first opened her eyes. An excruciating pain throbbed in her skull as she tried to adjust to the morning light streaming through the curtains. She propped herself up with great effort, blinking against the bright light that was still too harsh for her senses.

The young assistant looked around and realized she was in her room.

"I don’t remember coming back in here," she mumbled as she got out of bed.

Saera walked toward the living room and spotted a figure lying on the couch. As she approached, she saw it was Namjoon. A faint smile crossed her lips as she admired how peaceful and serene his expression was. She knelt in front of him, scrunching her face as a sharp pain throbbed in her head.

Gently, Saera caressed his dark, soft locks. She had always loved running her fingers through his hair since they were young, and Namjoon had never minded her affection. In fact, he enjoyed her touches and found comfort in them.

After a while, Saera stood up, allowing him to continue his sleep, and walked toward the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of tea to help alleviate the excruciating pain. As she searched for sugar on the table, her gaze fell on a package of medication sitting there.

Frowning, she reached for it and turned it over to read the label. Suddenly, everything that had happened last night rushed back to her. Saera began to tremble, and the package slipped from her fingers, crashing to the ground. She remembered experiencing a panic attack, what triggered it, and how she had eventually calmed herself.

She collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud, covering her ears as if trying to mute the laughter and mocking voices that filled her mind once more.

Namjoon woke up at the sound of her sobbing. His eyes widened in alarm as he rushed into the kitchen. What he saw made his heart ache. Saera lay curled up in a ball, sobbing and hyperventilating, pleading for the torment to stop.

He hurried over and grabbed her wrist, trying to get her to look at him. "Saera, calm down! I'm here. Please," Namjoon urged, desperate to gain her attention, but she seemed unable to hear him.

She didn’t even realize he was there.

"Stop it! Stop it! No, leave me... I said leave me! I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me, damn it!" Saera cried out, eyes tightly shut and mouth begging for the torment to cease.

Tears streamed silently down Namjoon's face as he tried to wake her from her trance, to reassure her that she was safe with him in her apartment.

"Saera, please look at me! I'm here! Nam is here! You're at home; look! Look!" he repeated, but his words were lost on her.

Suddenly, Saera stopped hyperventilating and screaming, her body going completely still.

She had fainted.

------

Hello, lovelies! How is everyone doing? I have some exciting news to share with you all. I started my internship a week ago, which means I have more time than before. This will allow me to write and update you more frequently!

My schedule has been incredibly tight over the past five months, and I was internally stressing over the numerous projects and court deadlines. But now that I have a more flexible and manageable schedule, you can expect more updates—at least one a week, if all goes well! (I do have two individual projects pending 🥲, but still.)

There will also be some surprise updates! 😉

I’ll be focusing more on both of my books, so if there’s anything you haven’t understood in either of them, please feel free to ask me. I’ll clarify everything in the next chapter.

Okay back to business, how did you found this chapter, yeoreobun? I'll be revealing some important information about the past connecting Hobi and Saera in the upcoming chapters. Pinky Promise!🤙

Okay, that was a long-winded speech. 😅 I hope you enjoyed this part, and please stay tuned for the next chapters.

One last thing: J-Hope was D.O.P.E! The hope on stage isn’t a joke, right? I hope he performs wonderfully in his remaining concerts and takes care of himself!

Take good care of yourselves, my lovelies. I love you all and will be rooting for you. Thank you for reading my stories, even though they’re short and not updated as often as I’d like.

And don’t worry, this is not the last chapter, lol! See you soon! 🖐

Please Comment and Vote. 💙💜💙

Borahae! 💜💜💜