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Minjun awoke to a dull ache spreading like wildfire through his body, each pulse a reminder of his fragility. The sterile scent of ointment mingled with the faint metallic tang of blood still clinging to the edges of his awareness. His surroundings felt unfamiliar yet painfully intimate, as though the very air was watching him.
A thick bandage coiled tightly around his neck, trapping a cool layer of soothing cream beneath it. The burn marks from the chains that had once bound him were hidden, but their ghostly weight remained. Smaller, square dressings were taped to his jawline, the fabric brushing against the raw, shallow cuts they were meant to heal.
His wrists, though now free, seemed weighed down by the memory of restraint. The off-white sheets brushed against them as he moved, the faintest of motions causing a twinge. They had healed well, thanks to Jungkook's surprisingly gentle care, but the invisible scars lingered, as did the fear.
Dense padding encased his left knee, secured by layers of adhesive strips that tugged uncomfortably at his skin. Beneath them, the throbbing was faint yet unrelenting, a sharp reminder of the injury hidden beneath. The boy's ankle was trapped in a sturdy black medical boot. It felt suffocating, a constant reminder of his vulnerability, and no matter how much he tried to wiggle his toes, the snug fit left him squirming in frustration.
"Hey."
The sudden sound of a voice broke through the fog of his thoughts. Minjun turned his head slowly toward the source, the movement scraping the sensitive skin beneath his bandages. Standing there was Jung Hoseok, his expression soft yet unreadable.
The man — no, the gangster, the kidnapper — stepped closer, his dawn-colored lips curving into a faint smile that sent conflicting ripples through Minjun's chest.
"You should know," Hoseok began, his voice calm but weighted, "we'll only ever hurt you if you deserve it." The words, though delivered gently, carried a quiet menace. His smile lingered, though it failed to reach his eyes. "It's going to be hard, but you don't need to be scared around us."
Minjun's breath caught as Hoseok leaned forward, his hand reaching out to assess his condition. The teenager flinched instinctively, his body curling back into the mattress as if it could swallow him whole. A quiet gasp escaped his lips, the sound raw and frightened.
Hoseok pulled back, a faint frown ghosting his features. "Is there anyone you'd rather see right now?" he asked, his tone laced with something almost resembling concern.
Minjun hesitated, his wide, tear-brimmed eyes fixed on the man before him. Finally, his voice trembled out, barely audible. "S-Seokjin..."
"I'll go see if he's free." Hoseok nodded and straightened, his movements deliberate. With a final glance at Minjun, he left, the soft click of the door a fleeting mercy.
Alone again, Minjun let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms. He tried to move his injured leg, testing its limits, but the moment he bent his knee, pain flared sharply, clawing its way up his thigh. He winced, biting his lip to suppress a cry, and let his leg fall limp against the bed.
