43. The Savior

The savior was Nick. He knelt beside Starla, his heart aching at the sight of her unconscious form. He gently brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Emotions of longing, love, and sorrow swirled within him, visible in his gaze as he looked at her. Every second that passed felt like an eternity as he absorbed the reality of what had just happened. The stillness of the moment was heavy, the quiet only broken by the distant hum of the city outside.

His mind raced with memories of their shared moments—laughter echoing through crowded cafes, quiet walks under starlit skies, and whispered promises exchanged in the intimacy of their embraces. Now, seeing her fragile and vulnerable, he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness and fear for what could come next.

He recalled the warmth of her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of her dreams, and the strength in her voice that always inspired him. She had been his anchor through turbulent times, her unwavering support guiding him through life's storms. Now, as he knelt beside her, he felt a deep sense of helplessness, unable to be by her side like he used to.

"Thank God I've been following you," Nick murmured, his voice barely audible. "I was hoping for a chance to talk, but if I hadn't been here, I might not have seen that man following you."

Nick stood up slowly, casting a wary glance at the unconscious assailant sprawled near Starla. The man's presence was a stark reminder of the danger she had been in, and his protective instincts flared up. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart, and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. The cool metal of the device felt grounding in his hand as he quickly dialed the London police. His footsteps echoed softly as he walked out into the corridor, each step measured and purposeful.

The hallway outside Starla’s apartment was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of distant traffic. The walls, painted a neutral beige, were lined with closed doors, each concealing the lives within. The dim lighting cast long shadows, creating an atmosphere of solitude. The occasional flicker of a faulty light added to the unsettling stillness of the building at that late hour. As he walked away from Starla’s unit, his footsteps echoed in the silence, underscoring the stillness of the building at that late hour. The air felt thick with anticipation, every creak and groan of the building amplified in the quiet.

...

The next morning, in a VVIP room of a London hospital, Starla slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, vision blurred at first, but gradually coming into focus. The sterile scent of disinfectant filled her nose, and the soft beeping of medical equipment created a calming rhythm. She blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings, feeling a sense of disorientation. The events of the previous night felt like a distant nightmare, and she struggled to piece together what had happened.

The room was spacious and well-lit, the morning sun streaming through large windows that overlooked a serene garden courtyard. The walls were painted a soothing pastel color, adorned with tasteful artwork depicting scenes of nature and tranquility. A bouquet of fresh flowers, a mix of lilies and roses, sat on a nearby table, their vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the room's calming palette and filling the air with a delicate, sweet fragrance.

Furnished for comfort, the room featured a plush armchair upholstered in soft cream fabric, a small coffee table adorned with books and a vase of more flowers, and a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall opposite the bed. The gentle murmur of a fountain outside added to the peaceful ambiance, creating a serene atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the chaos and uncertainty that had led Starla here.

As her gaze wandered around the room, Starla’s eyes finally landed on Luna, who was standing near the foot of her bed. Luna’s expression softened into a relieved smile as she saw Starla awake. Starla noticed the details of Luna's appearance: her hair slightly disheveled, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hadn’t slept well, and her outfit, a simple blouse and jeans, looked hastily put together. The worry and concern Luna had felt were evident in her tired, yet relieved, smile.

"I'm so glad to see you're awake," Luna said, her voice filled with genuine concern. She stepped closer, her movements graceful and careful, as if she was afraid of startling Starla.

Starla felt a twinge of anxiety, the fragments of her memory slowly coming together. But she managed a weak smile, then said with her voice was hoarse, her throat dry from disuse, "Luna, why am I here? What happened?"

Luna took a deep breath, her smile fading slightly. "I found out about your condition from the police. They called to inform me that you were in the hospital. When I got here, I spoke with them. They told me that a man had reported a crime at your apartment. When the police arrived, they found you unconscious and the attacker passed out on the floor. They don’t know who the caller was, but they believe he was the one who saved you."

Hearing this, fragments of the incident began to piece together in Starla's mind. As the details slowly emerged, she recalled the suddenness of his intrusion, the fear that gripped her as she shocked seeing the man. She remembered the unknown man forcing his way into her apartment and pushing her to the floor. After that, everything went dark. The memory sent a shiver down her spine, and she hugged herself as if to ward off the lingering fear. The room had felt like a sanctuary until then, a place of comfort and solitude. Now, it was tainted by the memory of that intrusion, the sense of vulnerability that had followed in its wake.

Starla's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what had happened. Who was that man, and why did he do such a bad thing to her? Questions swirled in her mind, each one adding to her unease. She glanced around the room, half-expecting to see him lurking in the shadows, even though she knew he was not there.

The incident had left an imprint on her, a reminder of the fragility of safety and the unpredictability of life. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to push away the images that threatened to overwhelm her. Taking a deep breath, Starla focused on the present, trying to shake off the fear that still lingered. She knew she would have to take steps to ensure her safety, to regain the sense of security that had been shattered so abruptly.

"Do you know who the person that saved me is?" Starla asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with curiosity and hope.

Luna shook her head. "The only information the police have is that a South Korean man has covered your medical expenses. They think it might be Ha-neul." Her tone was thoughtful, as if she was trying to piece together the mystery herself.

"Does that mean Ha-neul was the one who saved me?" Starla inquired, her mind racing. The thought of Ha-neul being her savior filled her with a mix of gratitude and confusion.

Luna seemed to think for a moment before answering with careful words, not wanting to give Starla false hope, "According to the police, Ha-neul denied being the one who rescued you."

Starla asked again, "Do you know why that man wanted to harm me?"

Luna answered, "According to the police, he is a fan of your novels and is obsessed with you."

Starla was left in stunned silence, pondering how frightening an obsessed fan could be. Just then, the door to her room opened, and a nurse walked in, breaking the contemplative silence. The nurse, clad in crisp white scrubs and a gentle smile, carried a tray with a steaming mug of herbal tea. She moved gracefully, the soft click of her shoes on the tiled floor contrasting with the tense atmosphere in the room.

Luna glanced briefly at the nurse before checking her watch. "I'm really sorry, Starla. I need to go to my agency for work, but I promise I'll come back to see you once I'm done."

Starla nodded, offering Luna a faint smile. "Thank you, Luna."

Luna gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before heading out of the room. As Luna made her way down the corridor towards the elevator, Ha-neul emerged from it, walking in the opposite direction.

The corridor was bathed in the soft morning light that came in through the windows, casting a serene glow on the polished floor. Luna's heels clicked softly on the tiles as she made her way to the elevator. At the same time, Ha-neul stepped out of the elevator. Will Luna and Ha-neul meet later? Will Luna later find out that Ha-neul and Min-soo are the same person?