08. You are binded by me

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AUTHOR's POV ||

Song Yn pulled up to the alley on her sleek black motorcycle, the engine purring smoothly as she scanned the dimly lit scene before her. The only sound was the distant hum of the city, a stark contrast to the chaos that had clearly unfolded here. Kim Taehyung, her arch-nemesis, lay motionless on the ground, his usually impeccable suit now torn and battered, like a ragdoll discarded by a petulant child.

Yn's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight, her lip curling in disgust. Yet, despite her best efforts, a flicker of concern betrayed her, dancing in the depths of her eyes like a tantalizing whisper. She snorted, a harsh sound, as if to banish the weakness. With a sigh, she dismounted, her boots thudding against the pavement as she approached him, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Damn you, Taehyung," she muttered, her voice low and husky, as she knelt beside him. "Why do I always have to save your sorry ass?"

She shook her head, her raven-black hair swinging like a curtain of night, obscuring her face for a moment. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, like two stars in a midnight sky, as she gazed at him. His usually chiseled features were now swollen and discolored, a testament to the brutality he had endured.

Yn's gaze lingered on the bruises, her expression a mask of disdain. Yet, her hands, always so steady and sure, trembled ever so slightly as she reached out to touch his face. It was a fleeting moment, one she quickly suppressed, but it spoke volumes about the conflicting emotions warring within her.

With a grunt, she hauled him onto her shoulder, his unconscious form limp against her. She tossed him onto the motorcycle's back seat, securing him with a few swift straps. The hospital was a short ride away, and she weaved through traffic with a practiced hand, her mind racing with thoughts she dare not voice.

As she rode, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color, Yn's thoughts drifted back to their tumultuous past. Theirs was a history forged in fire and ice, a delicate dance of hate and desire, each step precariously balanced on the knife-edge of their mutual disdain.

And yet, here she was, saving him once again, like a moth drawn to a flame that promised only destruction. It was a vicious cycle, one she couldn't seem to break, no matter how hard she tried.

The hospital loomed ahead, its sterile walls a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in the alley. Yn pulled up to the emergency entrance, her eyes scanning the area with a practiced gaze. With a swift motion, she dismounted, her boots thudding against the pavement as she pulled Taehyung into her arms.

The doctor rushed out, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the battered young man. "Oh my god, what happened?"

Yn's expression was a mask of ice, her voice detached. "He got jumped by some thugs. I found him in an alley."

The doctor nodded curtly, his eyes never leaving Taehyung's face. "We'll need to get him into surgery, stat."

Yn nodded, her eyes never leaving Taehyung's face, her expression a carefully crafted mask of indifference. But as she gazed at him, her eyes betrayed a flicker of something almost like...concern. It was a fleeting moment, one she quickly suppressed, but it spoke volumes about the conflicting emotions warring within her.

As the doctor and nurses prepared Taehyung for surgery, Yn's tension grew, her anxiety palpable in the sterile air of the hospital. She paced the waiting room, her long legs devouring the distance with each stride, her eyes fixed on the door to the operating theater like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. Her fists were clenched, her nails digging into her palms, as if she could will Taehyung's safety into existence through sheer force of will.

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