FRAT LINE|Year 2&3-KNJ✔️

++41++

⚠️graphic descriptions
++THIRD++

Malia's head pounds as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her eyes focus on the floor as she stares at the polished wood.

Her stomach cramps, yet her body has no reaction to it. Not a cringe, not a blink, not a rub. Nothing. Her eyes burn as the dryness starts to affect them. Completely out of focus, her vision is blurred tremendously.

When they begin to water, she blinks. An involuntary action forced by her eyes to soothe the dryness in them.

Malia's expression is blank as she continues to stare at the floor. Her arms are at her sides, limp against the mattress.

She feels warm... no...cool. Her skin is warm to the touch... yet she feels like she could use another blanket. Her arms and chest are mildly dampened and she hasn't moved since she sat up several minutes ago.

The door clicks open and she hears the sound of footsteps come in. They're not thick soled like boots, but they're not thin like slippers either.

"Oh, you're up."

Namjoon's blue and white sneakers come into view in Malia's peripheral as he walks to the bedside table. He sets the bag down as he takes his jacket off.

"The others ate breakfast already so I just ran over to the cafe to get us foo-."

Namjoon stops talking as his eyes widen in horror. He stops moving completely at the sight of Malia. His heart beats rapidly against his chest.

"Wha-. Malia?" He quickly walks over as he begins to panic. He reaches out for her but retracts his arms hesitantly. He isn't sure where to grab or if he should at all.

The sight of all the blood is throwing him completely off.

The place that he went for food was kind of packed but he was only gone for 30 minutes. How could all this have happened? She was when sleep when he left.

Namjoon cups and holds her face in his hands, forcing her eyes up to him. There isn't a single thought behind them. Her eyes are as blank as her face is.

"Lia, what happened?" He asks as his voice and his hands start to tremble. "Why is there so much-?"

Malia blinks slow and looks up at him. Apathetic and monotonous, she replies.

"She wanted out." She mumbles.

"What?" He asks, barely hearing her.

"We didn't want her... so she left." Another slow blink. "She wanted out."

Namjoon's breathing becomes heavy as he looks at all of the blood. His eyebrows twitch in confusion. His mind spins and he can't understand why or how any of this is happening.

There's so much of it. It's soaked through her shorts. It's on her inner thighs, caked in a way that coats them in the red substance.

In the spot that she was lying, it's gotten onto the sheets and absorbed through them. Even where she sits, she's bled through the towel as well.

Namjoon has seen blood before. He's seen cuts, scrapes, rug burns, gashes. He's even familiar with the spontaneous leaks of a young woman's cycle when it catches her off guard or suddenly becomes heavier than expected.

But this... this is nothing like anything he's ever seen before. Disgusted isn't the word. No. He isn't disgusted by it. He could never be disgusted by something like this. Especially not when it comes to Malia.

He's terrified.

Feeling the temperature of her neck, he knows that she's still a little warm. Her fever has gone down a bit but her temp isn't as regulated as he'd like it to be.