69


    69


    Sienna’s POV


    I stepped back, away from the gathering crowd, and sat on the damp sand. My breathing was still uneven, but my body was


    beginning to feel real again. I didn’t notice that Liam was already standing not far from me. He watched me for a long moment,


    then sat down beside me, saying nothing. He didn’t try to touch me, didn’t ask anything. He was just there.


    I looked down, staring at the grains of sand clinging to my knees and hands. For a moment, the world felt quiet, even though there


    were still plenty of sounds around me. Amid the chaos that had just happened, I realized something: there was a part of me still


    capable of moving, acting, saving-even if my heart felt like it was barely afloat.


    Maybe I wasn’tpletely broken.


    Then, a volleyball came flying straight at me.


    In a split second, Liam stepped forward, trying to block it. But his movement was too quick, maybe too impulsive. Instead of


    catching or deflecting it, the ball hit him square in the face-right on the nose.


    “Liam!” I shouted, startled.


    The ball dropped onto the sand, and Liam staggered back a step, grimacing. His hand immediately went to his nose, and when he


    pulled it away, blood began to trickle from one nostril.


    The kids who had been ying with the ball came running toward us, their faces full of panic and guilt.


    “We’re sorry, Mister! We didn’t mean to!”


    Liam raised one hand, signaling that it was okay, though his face was clearly still twisted in pain. “It’s alright,” he said softly.


    I was frozen for a few seconds, then quickly snapped out of it and opened my bag, searching for something. I found a small, pale


    blue handkerchief I always carried and handed it to him immediately.


    “Here. Press it to your nose, quickly,” I said, half-panicked.


    Liam took it with a slightly trembling hand. “Thanks…” he murmured, pressing the handkerchief to his nose, trying to stop the bleeding


    I looked at him. It was a minor injury. But strangely, seeing that blood-seeing him hurt-somehow melted my earlier anger, washed away by the panic and whatever lingering feelings I hadn’tpletely let go of.


    “Liam… are you okay?” I asked softly, my voice sounding more worried than I intended.


    Liam kept the handkerchief against his nose. The bleeding had slowed, but still, seeing him like that made my chest tighten.


    “Doesn’t seem broken… just a hard hit,” he replied quietly, attempting a smile, even though the pain was obvious.


    I looked around and spotted a small sign that said “Clinic” near a row of food stalls and surfboard rental shops. It was no more


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    than a five-minute walk away. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.


    “Come on, we’re going to that clinic. Don’t talk too much-you might faint if you keep bleeding.”


    Liam looked a little surprised as I gently pulled him, but he didn’t resist. He only nodded quietly and followed my steps.


    I didn’t even realize I was leading him, guiding him like someone I was fully responsible for. My fingers were no longer just


    touching-they were wrapped around his wrist firmly, instinctively, as if my body was being more honest than my mind.


    Our pace was slow as we passed through a few onlookers who turned their heads at the faint smear of blood on Liam’s face. But I


    didn’t care. All I could think about was getting him checked before anything worse happened.


    “I didn’t think I’d be that careless,” he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by the handkerchief still pressed to his face.


    “Just be quiet. You can babble once your nose stops bleeding,” I said, not looking at him, but not loosening my grip either.


    The clinic was small and modest, the sign on the front a bit faded, but the atmosphere was calm. As we arrived at the door, a nurse


    who saw Liam’s condition immediately opened it and ushered him inside.


    I only let go of his wrist when a staff member took over and guided Liam to the examination room. My hand felt suddenly empty,


    and only then did I realize just how tightly I’d been holding on.


    I stood in front of the clinic door, watching Liam through the ss. He was still pressing the handkerchief-my handkerchief-


    against his nose, asionally ncing my way. A faint, meaningful smile tugged at his lips, even though his face was a little


    messy.


    A few minutester, Liam came out of the examination room with a small piece of cotton under his nose. He held a stic bag containing medication, and although he still looked a bit pale, his expression had calmed.


    “All done,” he said softly, smiling at me. “They said it’s not broken, just a small blood vessel burst.”


    I gave a small nod. “That’s good.”


    Just then, a man in a white uniform stepped out from the inner room. His face lit up in a warm smile as he saw me.


    “Oh, Sienna! You’re here,” he greeted cheerfully.


    I nodded slightly, a little awkward. “Yes, Doctor.”


    The doctor came closer and looked at me for a moment, then asked with genuine concern, “Has your headache gotten any better?”


    Liam, standing beside me, immediately turned his head, a clear expression of surprise on his face. His eyes fixed on me, full of silent questions.


    I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “It’s a little better now, Doctor,”


    He nodded, though his tone remained concerned. “But don’t take it lightly. If it keeps recurring, you should get checked at a bigger hospital. It might not just be fatigue. We don’t want to take any risks, right?”


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    I forced a smile and looked down slightly. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll keep that in mind.”


    Liam remained silent, his eyes on me as if trying to piece together everything he had just heard. But I didn’t give him a chance to


    ask.


    “Come on,” I said quickly, touching his arm lightly. “Let’s go.”


    Liam still looked confused, but he followed. We walked out of the clinic, down a narrow hallway that led to the front porch. The sea


    breeze returned, brushing against my face as the door shut behind us.


    “Sienna…” he said softly, almost a whisper. “How long have you been sick? Is… is it serious?”


    I stopped. My steps froze in the sand. I stared at the horizon, trying to steady my heartbeat, which had suddenly quickened.


    “You shouldn’t be asking that,” I replied, still facing away from him.


    “But I care,” he said again. “I—”


    “No,” I cut him off sharply, turning around to face him, my eyes cold. “You lost the right to care, Liam. This isn’t your business


    anymore.”


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