### Episode 3 — Mornings That Feel Like Home

Morning arrived gently, carried in by sunlight slipping through sheer curtains and the comforting rhythm of a house already awake.

The kitchen was alive.

Seokjin stood at the stove like a general commanding his troops, apron tied with unnecessary seriousness. “No one touches anything until I say so,” he warned, flipping pancakes with practiced ease.

“You say that every time,” Jackson replied, stealing a strawberry anyway.

“And every time you ignore me,” Seokjin shot back. “Which is why you’re banned from the kitchen.”

Hoseok laughed from the counter, phone already in hand. “Hyung, if you ban everyone, you’ll end up eating alone.”

“Peace at last,” Seokjin muttered.

Aroua entered quietly, hair tied neatly, coat folded over her arm. The moment she appeared, the noise softened—not because it had to, but because everyone noticed.

“Morning,” she said, voice warm.

Jin turned instantly. “Sit. Eat. Doctor or not, you don’t leave without breakfast.”

She smiled, obediently taking her seat. Taehyung placed a cup of tea in front of her without a word. Jimin slid the plate closer. Namjoon nodded once, satisfied.

“You’re starting today already?” Jimin asked. “No rest for the accomplished?”

She shrugged lightly. “Patients don’t wait.”

Seokjin set a full plate in front of her. “Neither does family worrying about you.”

Jungkook appeared just in time to steal a piece from her plate. “She’ll be fine. She always is.”

Aroua laughed. “You’re not helping.”

They walked her to the door like a small procession, voices overlapping with reminders, teasing threats, and unnecessary advice.

“Call if you’re tired,” Namjoon said.

“Eat lunch on time,” Seokjin added.

“Don’t smile too much,” Jimin teased. “People might fall in love.”

She waved them off, laughter following her all the way to the car.

---

The hospital welcomed her with familiar calm—the soft beeping of monitors, the quiet urgency of footsteps, the respectful nods from nurses who already adored her.

“Good morning, Dr. Kim,” someone said.

“Good morning,” she replied, slipping into her coat, becoming steady and focused without losing her gentleness.

Her day filled quickly—consultations, reassuring smiles, careful explanations. She listened. She remembered names. She held hands when words weren’t enough.

Between patients, her phone buzzed.

**Seokjin:**

*Did you eat everything? Be honest.*

She smiled and typed back.

*Yes. Even the vegetables.*

Another buzz.

**Jackson:**

*We’re debating who misses you more. I’m winning.*

**Jimin:**

*You’re not. Also\, you left your scarf.*

**Hoseok:**

*Come home early. The house is too quiet.*

She paused, warmth settling in her chest before replying to all of them with a simple heart.

Later, as she reviewed charts, a message popped up from Taehyung.

**Taehyung:**

*Do your best. Come home safe.*

No embellishment. No teasing. Just certainty.

She locked her phone and leaned back for a moment, eyes lifting to the window. The city stretched endlessly beyond it—busy, demanding, alive.

And yet, somewhere within all of it, she felt grounded.

By afternoon, Jungkook sent a photo of Seokjin dramatically guarding a pot on the stove.

**Jungkook:**

*He says dinner depends on when you get back.*

She laughed softly, earning curious looks from a passing nurse.

“Family?” the nurse asked.

Aroua nodded. “Yes.”

It felt good to say.

As the sun dipped lower, she finished her rounds, exhaustion gentle rather than heavy. Love followed her through the halls—in messages, in memories, in the certainty that warmth waited at home.

For now, life was simple.

Joy was loud.

Care was constant.

And the mansion, full of laughter and light, stood strong—holding a peace no one yet realized was fragile.

But today, Aroua walked forward smiling.

Today, happiness was enough.