𝗥𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 | Park Seonghwa

seven.

Anyways, right now, you're just glad he gave you permission to help, hoping it isn't because he's in a state where he can't fully think. You could have suggested driving him to his place a few seconds ago, but unfortunately, sleep took over the exhausted boy again, leaving the complex situation in your hands.

"Why me?" You mutter to yourself, preparing to embark on what seems like an intense workout. You begin counting down in your head, steeling yourself for the moment all of his weight rests on you. Your legs are already aching from the previous carrying you did, and this time, it feels even worse. You breathe deeply, trying to keep your movements steady. "Heavy motherfucker."

You wonder how someone can be so skinny yet unbelievably heavy. You know the reason behind your struggle is that he's way bigger and taller than you. Your left arm is wrapped around his waist while your right hand clutches his arm, gripping him tighter to prevent a fall.

As you slowly make your way, you feel the muscles under your fingers. It's oddly distracting, more than a bit intriguing. His bicep is firm under your touch, making you wonder what his abs might feel like. Your sudden interest makes it hard to resist the urge to touch more, but you know it isn't right. You can't take advantage of his unconsciousness.

"Pure thoughts," you repeat to yourself, two words echoing in your head as a mantra. You force your focus back as you're brought back by the burn in your muscles. You've only just reached the door; the worst is yet to come. Sixteen more steps to climb, and you remind yourself, "Well, we need to start somewhere."

With that, you put one foot in front of the other, moving forward ever so slowly. Arriving at the second floor, you take a minute to catch your breath and adjust the boy in your hold. It's quiet, apart from both of you breathing heavily, especially you, who is struggling to slow your rapid heartbeat.

"D-don- plea..."

Your head turns immediately to the boy, hearing him mumble shakily. You thought he woke up, but he's sleep-talking, maybe having a nightmare. He's frowning and seems uncomfortable, the arm around your neck tightening, bringing you closer if possible. He whimpers, eyes blinking open with difficulty. "H-hurts."

His breathing becomes heavier, and he tries to move away from you after seeing your face. "Don't touch me!"

He pushes you away with force despite his weakened body, nearly sending you tumbling down the stairs. Fortunately, you manage to grab the railing just in time. Your heart misses a beat, thinking it was too late. He uses his strength to break free and falls on his back, gasping from the contact. You feel guilty for having thought he deserved that after nearly causing you to fall.

"Are you crazy! I'm helping you; what the hell is wrong with you?" You scream at him, momentarily forgetting about the residents who are most probably asleep. Your loud voice seems to wake the boy fully, his eyes focusing on your figure. A flash of guilt washes over his face, but it disappears too quickly for you to catch. "You could've woken me up, you know. I can walk with some support; I didn't need you to drag me like a freaking doll!"

He responds with spite, scoffing at you. Your face remains emotionless, but anger begins to bubble up inside you. "Get your ass up, then! We still have eight stairs to go."

You walk closer, extending your hand for him to take. He glares at you, shrugging your hand away and gets up by himself. The boy pretends he isn't hurt and weak, turning his back to you so you don't see his pained expression, but you don't miss the little gasps escaping his mouth. "You don't have to act so tough; you're hurt, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Your comment makes him chuckle before he starts ignoring your presence. Instead of letting you help him walk upstairs, he's making his way there himself, not accepting your shoulder for support. You think to yourself, "I should keep my mouth shut from now on."