The psychiatric ward had strict rules for patients like Sunghoon. Never trust him when he seemed calm. Never forget what he was capable of. Sunghoon had been admitted after murdering three people. The staff called him violent and unpredictable. Most nurses were terrified of him. Except Y/n wasn’t. She treated him gently, spoke to him kindly, and never looked at him like a monster. Somehow, she became the only person he listened to. He refused medication from anyone else, never lashed out around her, and watched her with quiet intensity. The staff thought she kept him calm. They didn’t realize it was obsession. One evening, Y/n entered his room with dinner. “You’re late,” Sunghoon said softly. “Only by five minutes.” “You’re usually earlier.” “I was helping another patient.” His expression darkened instantly. He hated hearing about anyone else taking her attention. But when she smiled at him, he relaxed again. Then one night, the alarms went off. Red lights flooded the halls as the intercom repeated: “Maximum security patient missing. Sunghoon has escaped.” No one could find him. After her shift, Y/n finally returned home exhausted and uneasy. She locked her apartment door twice before getting ready for bed. Then she heard a creak. Her closet door slowly opened. And someone stepped out. Sunghoon. His uniform was stained, his eyes locked onto her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. Y/n stumbled back in horror, but he only smiled softly. “Why do you look scared?” he asked. “I came home to you.”