Don't Fall Asleep Beside Me Tonight
Why of all places did he have to sit here? There are plenty of empty seats!
Dajeong swallowed the thoughts she dared not voice and averted her gaze.
“Uh, um… CEO! Hello! This is the first time I’ve seen you in the staff cafeteria.”
Taekyung let Kang Jiho’s eager greeting pass unanswered, his indifferent eyes fixed solely on the tray in front of him.
More precisely, on Dajeong’s tray.
“Carrot allergy?”
The offhand remark landed like bait; Dajeong’s head snapped up at once.
“No, it’s not that.”
“Ahh. Picky eater. Does your palate follow your specialty? Your appetite’s downright childish.”
Taekyung cast a sidelong glance at the carrots she had carefully picked out and tilted the corner of his mouth upward. She hastily tried to shove them deeper into the tray, but it was already too late.
“And yet I bet you tell your patients to eat a balanced diet.”
Was he picking a fight? Yet there was not a trace of coldness on the man’s face.
What is this? Dajeong swallowed her questions and quietly tipped her water cup.
“……I’ll be more careful from now on.”
She had no idea why she needed to watch her carrot-picking just because he was the CEO.
Dajeong tidied the mess however she could and began to eat. Taekyung lifted his chopsticks as well.
Sitting openly at the same table with Jang Taekyung, who had become the hospital’s public enemy number one—and with Park Hyeonwoo, the very man they had been tearing into each other only moments before.
Around this bizarre combination of diners, it was as if a barrier had been erected; no one came near. Awkward silence alone wrapped the four of them.
“…….”
Leisurely scooping soup, Taekyung suddenly looked across at Dajeong.
A small mouthful of rice and side dishes disappeared into her tiny mouth. Her cheeks puffed out like soft bread, and she chewed with diligent little munches.
Was it the long eyelashes? Or the slender, pale face? Watching her eat felt like observing the most fragile of herbivores at its meal.
Every time she leaned forward, the V-neck surgical scrubs beneath her loose white coat gaped open. His gaze kept snagging on the collarbone that flickered into view—half-hidden, half-revealed.
The shabby scrubs, for all their looseness, at least had the decency not to bare everything.
They permitted only the clean, straight line of collarbone stretched across her fair skin.
It wasn’t even mating season. What the hell was this, that his eyes kept sticking there?
He felt like a shameless pervert peeping at a woman. Taekyung forcibly dragged his gaze away and let it slide back to his tray.
That was the moment Park Hyeonwoo, who had been shooting Taekyung disapproving glances for some time, finally parted his lips.
“Dajeong.”
At the familiar call of her name, she lifted her head.
“About that prosthetic valve replacement video you were watching earlier.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“How did you handle the perforating? What depth on the sternum? Or did you approach via carpal?”
Park Hyeonwoo pushed his glasses higher and unleashed a torrent of medical terms calculated to leave Taekyung in the dark.
Taekyung’s brow twitched ever so slightly.
“Mm, I think I missed that part. I’ll review it carefully later.”
There was no chance Dajeong had missed something so critical. Yet she glossed over the conversation with a gentle lie—because she suspected Taekyung would feel uncomfortable being shut out.
“Alright. Let’s study it together. Or if the angioid itself was weak because it’s pediatric—”
“Then you’d go carpal. That approach is more stable than the sternum.”
Taekyung’s firm, low voice cut in without warning, fluent medical terminology rolling off his tongue.
This time it was Park Hyeonwoo’s brow that flinched and tightened.
“Seems you’re discussing heart valve replacement. A recent paper from Johns Hopkins researchers cast their vote for the carpal approach.”
Childish bastard.
The arrogant lift of his eyes said as much.
Caught off guard by the counterattack, Park Hyeonwoo could manage no real reply. The provocation fizzled into hollow silence.
“Dr. Yu Dajeong.”
Now it was Taekyung who spoke.
“About our appointment to meet tonight.”
Park Hyeonwoo’s head whipped toward Dajeong. Kang Jiho dropped the braised burdock he had just lifted; it hit the tray with a soft plop.
……Said without any context, the words were more than enough to invite misunderstanding. Dajeong bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.
“Yes, CEO. I remember the schedule to guide you through the operating rooms and the pediatric ICU. Is there anything further you need to instruct regarding that?”
Even with the deliberately lengthy explanation, the suspicious stares from Park Hyeonwoo and Kang Jiho showed no sign of cooling.
They looked at her as if she were a traitor who had sold out the entire organization.
“As long as you remember, that’s enough. I have no desire to be stood up.”
It was a ridiculously bland reason. Dajeong forced the corners of her mouth upward and scooped a generous portion of bulgogi.
Please, just everyone quietly eat. She broadcast the silent plea with everything she had, yet—
“Don’t fall asleep beside me like that day. Not tonight.”
Jang Taekyung dropped an even larger bomb of misunderstanding.
This man for real……!
“Holy crap.”
Kang Jiho exclaimed on her behalf.
“Um, CEO, that—”
Buzz, buzz. With impeccable timing, the smartwatch vibrated.
“It’s the Koala Ward station.”
Kang Jiho, who had received the same alert, tapped the screen and rose.
“No, wait……”
It’s not that kind of weird sleep you people are imagining!
“Oh, doctor—there’s a call coming in too.”
There was no time to explain. Dajeong answered the phone with a face flaming red.
Even then Taekyung’s smooth features did not so much as twitch. It only made her blood boil harder.
“CEO, we’ll be going first!”
Kang Jiho stood to follow Dajeong; Park Hyeonwoo, still seething, rose abruptly for no clear reason.
“…….”
In an instant the three of them vanished.
Taekyung was left alone, forlornly guarding the empty table.
On one corner of the tray he had barely touched, flower-shaped carrots sat piled in a neat little heap.
Looking at them, a hollow laugh burst out of him for no reason at all—like a madman.
Taekyung shook his head and leisurely finished the rest of his meal.
Inside the elevator heading back to the ward.
“Dr. Yu Dajeong. What’s going on? Why are you meeting CEO Jang?”
As expected, Park Hyeonwoo’s questions poured out at once.
“He said he was curious about the operating rooms, so I agreed to show him around.”
“So why drag busy you into something like that? There are plenty of people who can guide him—secretaries, admin staff, anyone.”
Hearing it put that way, the point was hard to deny.
As foundation CEO, even if the hospital director himself had stepped forward to give a tour, it would already have been done long ago.
“……It just turned out that way.”
“Be careful. It’s better not to get close to CEO Jang. The professors are waiting for their chance, too.”
It was a subject she had no desire to hear. Yet Park Hyeonwoo pressed on with solemn gravity.
“It’s ridiculous how he keeps going on about money, money, like some merchant in front of doctors. True to the name Gaejakdu—vulgar as hell.”
“…….”
“We might pull CEO Jang down soon. There’s a movement forming.”
“What? Really?”
Kang Jiho made a dramatic fuss and demanded confirmation.
“CEO Jang has neither the qualifications nor the expertise to lead a hospital.”
“But he seems to look up medical papers and try in his own way……”
“Don’t be fooled by that surface packaging. What kind of place is Hanju Group? It’s a dinosaur that grew by devouring everything in sight. We might get swallowed next.”
Declaring the matter secret for now and sealing Kang Jiho’s lips, Park Hyeonwoo stepped out of the elevator first.
“Something feels complicated and unsettling.”
Kang Jiho pulled a long face.
“What’s there to feel that way about? We just need to do our own jobs.”
Ding—the elevator doors opened, and Dajeong walked out in a straight, unshaken line.
“Aren’t you anxious, doctor? What if performance tanks and they really ship us off to the refugee support center?”
“So what? There are patients there too, and they need doctors.”
Ah. Without realizing it, she had repeated Taekyung’s exact words. Dajeong bit her lip with a start.
Fortunately, Kang Jiho—who had not been present at the time—showed no sign of noticing.
“My goal is a love marriage, you know. Who’s going to date and marry some guy who only chases every miserable corner of the world?”
While Kang Jiho chattered on, they reached the station. Dajeong silently checked the charts.
“Dr. Kang Jiho.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t get swayed. Just practice your suturing more. That’s the most important thing right now.”
It was also an admonition to herself.
Don’t get swayed. Just keep your duty as a doctor.
Whether other people cursed the CEO or not……
Whether that man truly stepped down or not.
Yu Dajeong’s life would not change.
“Aigoo, doctor. Fact violence is still violence.”
Pretending not to hear the grumbling Kang Jiho, Dajeong stepped into the patient room. It was time to focus on the patients.
“……Therefore, overall operating-room utilization, after one week of pilot operation, rose 2.7 percent compared with the previous week—a modest improvement.”
The TF team member who finished the report carefully watched Taekyung’s face.
Throughout the entire presentation he had sat in silence, eyes fixed coldly on the materials alone.
It was a result achieved before he had even completed a full month in office. Yet Taekyung, far from satisfied, radiated only chill.
“That’s enough for the report. But.”
“Yes, CEO.”
“Which department oversees the operation of the staff cafeteria?”
The sudden question caught them completely off guard.
Taekyung shifted back in his seat and crossed his arms.