Mystery Girl

Busan 16

Hobi's POV

Seeing y/n annoyed at herself hurts me. Not because I am offended that she isn't enjoying dancing with me today as much as I hoped she would, but because I so badly want her to have a good time and I can tell that she is trying to fight and push down her frustrations because I know first-hand what it feels like to try and ignore all your irritation in order to continue pushing forwards.

Cautiously, I walk over to y/n, wanting to help but also not wanting to push her boundaries. When she gives me permission to touch her, I try my best to get to work in fixing her posture and placement, awkward and stiff at first but then getting used to her skin under my hands. To my delight, y/n begins to relax once I have helped her and seems to be content- exactly what I wanted. 

Having y/n chase me around gives me this adrenaline and rush of serotonin, I never want it to stop. The nostalgia and simple easiness of this is something I want to experience more often. Of course, the members and I have a lot of fun, but it never entails romantic feelings like I feel with y/n. 

Y/n crashes to the ground and I continue to laugh because the smile still shines on her face and she doesn't seem to have hurt herself further than a small bruise and a couple of grazes at most. However, time freezes as she slides nearer to a radiator mounting on one of the walls, the metal about to collide with her elbow at quite a speed. 

In a panic, I shout after y/n and run towards her, but we both know it is too late. The thud of her skin against the white metal rings through my ears, her exclamation of pain haunting my mind. From her protective ball, curled up against herself instinctively, y/n scrambles onto her knees, too busy inspecting her injury to watch me rush over. 

Concluding that she isn't able to see much of the injury causing the pain because of the place she had hit her elbow, y/n lifts her arm up to show me and instantly I am on the floor, holding her arm carefully as I check the damage. Her elbow is red from the impact with the radiator and has already darkened slightly with bruising. Now reassured that she is not bleeding, I ask her to try and move her arm around to make sure she hasn't done any damage to the bone etc. 

She winces as she extends and retracts her arm but nods at me in confirmation that she hasn't done any serious damage. Although the room's atmosphere still feels as tense and unstable as a high-pressurised can near an open flame, y/n smiles at me and giggles softly, shaking her arm out. The shock has evidently worn off and the pain must be bearable, so I smile back, glad that she hasn't hurt herself too much.

I suggest that we head back to the stadium to meet up with the others now, after all, I don't think she will have a lot of motivation to carry on with the choreography with an injury. Reluctantly, she agrees with me, asserting that she would be happy to continue if that is what I want. Shaking my head, I inform y/n that I would be much happier if she rested now, I don't want to deal with anything high pressure like that again before the performance tonight. I can't afford to have shaky nerves and I prefer to know that y/n is safe. 

Y/n's POV

Here we go again, injuring yourself at any given turn. I'm not quite sure how I always manage to get myself hurt, but it always happens at the worst of times- example A. Honestly, you would think the probability of not hurting myself in these situations might outweigh the probability of hurting myself, but here I am, in another situation where I have ended up injured in some way.

I used to get frustrated at the clumsiness of my nature, the way I walk into everything and get hit by things when passing by etc, but I guess somewhere through my adolescence I began to accept the coincidences I would find myself in and I have learned how to pick myself up off the floor with nothing more than a quiet curse or a hiss of pain; maybe even an "oops" sometimes. 

Hobi stands over me, worry written all over his face. It is quite endearing really, but he needn't be so concerned when I can already assess from the level of pain pulsing from my elbow that it is a minor injury. Naturally, I want to see the damage for myself, but I can't see that spot on my elbow without bending my arm at a weird angle which would hurt me even more.

Accepting defeat, I raise my elbow up to Hobi for him to take a look. He is on the floor in front of me within seconds, it is quite impressive actually how I blink and he is suddenly right there. Seemingly unaware of the gentle grip he has attached to my arm, I watch Hobi's arm scan over the injury and he informs me that there is no bleeding but a bruise is already beginning to form.

His overreaction (in my opinion) amuses me and I begin to giggle softly, happy that he is so concerned for my wellbeing. I suppose he would be this way with anyone who had hurt themselves, but this seems kind of private in a way, the way his touch lingers and his eyes search. I turn away from his burning gaze with an equally burning face, the blush on my cheeks spreading through my skin uncomfortably. 

No matter how hard I attempt to push the thought away, I can't help but wonder if I am a burden to him. I refute his attempt of trying to take us back to the stadium at first, but I cave when I understand that he has no intention to stay here. What a mess. I hope he isn't annoyed with me. 

(1035 words)

Author's Note

Eeeee this one is late too, I'm truly sorry, I was writing my Easter one shot and thought it would be more important to finish first. Again, not much progression with the plotline, but I hope you liked it anyway :) Vote and comment if you want, I really appreciate it. I love you guys 💜