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Minho POV
I just stood there, in front of this ugly hospital, and couldn't help but stare at the huge, glaring neon sign that projected the name of this germ-infested prison into the night sky.
With a glance at my cell phone, the time told me that it was just after three in the morning.
I had just come back from one of the jobs Chan had given me. So far, his assignments had been relatively harmless: Kidnappings, a bit of torture, arms and major drug deals. But the worry that lay like a heavy stone in my stomach was when Chan would call in his favors for my request for work. Only then would the real problem arise.
All the dealing on the street was child's play compared to these new tasks. The customers I was dealing with now were tougher than the junkies on the street. They were meticulous, almost obsessed with the quality of their goods. Every tiny bit of fluff was scrutinized, every little detail checked.
They were horrible and annoying.
This bastard had some kind of problem today and completely lost it for no reason. He caught me cold, which left me with a split lip and cheek. My stomach was a bit upset too, but it was bearable. This bastard got much worse after I'd finished with him.
With a loud groan, I ran my hands over my face and tousled hair. I needed to see Hyunjin, I needed to know how he was, but the fear of what might await me paralyzed me. It was like a nightmare when I found him unconscious and bleeding in our apartment. I thought he was going to die. The sight burned itself so deeply into my memory that it almost physically hurt.
Never in my life had I been so afraid as in that moment when I thought I was going to lose him. His pale skin, the pain reflected in his face and the blood spreading on the floor made my heart beat painfully.
Three days have passed since the incident, during which I have hardly slept as the images haunted me even in my dreams. So I threw myself into work to numb the images and the fear for him. I stood in that spot every day and stared at the building, but couldn't bring myself to take a step inside. But the uncertainty of how he was doing now was slowly driving me mad.
I felt an icy shiver run down my spine as my legs suddenly began to shake and my breath came in short, hurried bursts. "Oh fuck it," I whispered to myself as my heart hammered wildly against my chest, and unsteadily put one foot in front of the other towards the entrance of the building. But after just three steps, I stopped abruptly and turned back. "Maybe tomorrow..." I mumbled quietly as I took those three steps back again. But the thought of him made me pause again. "But this bastard needs me," I continued talking to myself, forcing myself to look at the building again.
My hands clenched into fists, digging my nails into my palms as I fought with myself. Either I go in and he's awake while his condition is slowly improving, or he's still unconscious and his condition is getting shittier. I was already blaming myself for leaving him home alone with this injury anyway, because I knew this douchebag didn't give a shit about himself and something like this was bound to happen.
If I go in and he's still not better, this shitty conscience eats even deeper into me. But if he does get better, I would be infinitely relieved and the worries about him would fade a little.
I was nervously biting my fingernails and pacing back and forth when I next picked up my phone and realized it was already four o'clock. "Okay," I whispered to myself, my voice brittle with tension, and took a deep breath. "Better quick and painless than slow and agonizing," I told myself, forcing my trembling legs through the doorway.
Like every time I came through the entrance, I saw the fat guard snoring away in his chair. It didn't really itch me, because at least that way I could get in without any problems, but this hospital should definitely look into getting a new guard. I made my way directly to the ward where he had last been. When I got there, I rang the bell at the ward reception, as I had done on my previous visits.
It wasn't long before the familiar blondie came out of the back room and looked at me with a surprised expression on his face. "Tell me where Hyunjin is or I'll search every damn room," I got straight to the point and looked at the little guy. He furrowed his eyebrows a little and took a few steps towards me. "Is everything all right with you? You look... not exactly healthy," he said, his voice full of concern, scrutinizing my face. "It looks like it needs stitches," he added, staring at the laceration on my cheek.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed and took an exhausted breath. "Just tell me which room I need to go to," I managed to get out with difficulty, my voice surprisingly calm, probably only because I was so dog-tired. "Room 1403," he finally said, surprised that it was so easy. "Thank you," I whispered, slowly pushing myself off the counter I'd been leaning on before heading out.
But my luck didn't last long, because suddenly the guy blocked my path and stood right in front of me. "I told you which room he's in, but you're not allowed in there. It's the middle of the night and it's not visiting hours," he explained, his voice trying to sound stern, but I could hear a hint of uncertainty in it.
I raised my eyebrow and looked at him unimpressed. "We've been through this before Blondie. Get out of the way," I replied calmly, pushing him aside by the shoulder to get past him. "No," he shouted, his fingers clawing at my sleeve to hold me back. "You can't go to him. Come back tomorrow," he repeated insistently.
Tired, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes for a moment. I was too tired to put up with this guy.
When I didn't answer him for too long, he asked worriedly: "Are you really OK? You look like you're in pain." I lifted my head again and looked him straight in the eye. "And your lip is bleeding, I can stitch it up if you want," he added.
I tore my arm out of his grip, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the cold wall. "Listen Blondie. Either you shut the fuck up now and let me be my friend, or the only words you'll be saying for the next few minutes will be my wonderful name that you moan while I fuck your ass raw," I told him relatively calmly, yet menacingly.
He gasped sharply and almost forgot to breathe as he widened his eyes. When he still didn't say anything after a moment of silence, I let go of him. "I thought so," I muttered, my voice cold and distant as I made my way to my best friend's room.
As I stood in front of the door to the room, I took a deep breath, my fingers trembled slightly and I hesitated again. Maybe I should come back at another time. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and each tick made my heart beat faster and made me more nervous. I stood there frozen for about ten minutes, staring at the cold metal handle of the door and trying to gather my courage, when suddenly a voice sounded next to me. "Do you want to go in now or just keep staring at the door?"
I could tell who it was just by the sound of his voice. When I slowly turned my head and looked at him, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Get lost, Blondie," I growled softly, but my words didn't sound convincing, not even to myself. But instead of listening to me, he just came towards me and grabbed my hand. His skin felt warm and soft, in contrast to my rough, cold hands. "Let me stitch your lip and cheek," he suddenly mumbled meekly, looking down at our hands. "I'm sure you don't want it to get infected and worse, do you?"
I looked back at the door, my eyes sliding over the cold metal as I gave his hand a subconscious squeeze. "I don't have insurance for it and I can't afford it. So get lost, Blondie," I said as I pulled my hand out of his. But he didn't let up. "I'll do it for free, so let me treat it," this blondie said immediately, looking at me with a look of concern. I turned my head in his direction again and looked at him. His blond hair fell into his forehead and his dark eyes, which seemed larger through his glasses, seemed to want to penetrate me. I hesitated briefly before finally nodding. "Okay," I said, now becoming meek myself.
He grabbed my hand again and led me about three rooms away. We entered a room that looked like a treatment room but was more like a warehouse with all the stuff lying around. There were boxes and crates everywhere, crammed with medical utensils. "Have a seat," the blonde asked me and I silently did as he asked. I sat down on the couch and felt the cold leather cover creak under my fingers.
It was pathetic what I was doing here. I let myself be distracted by little things just so I wouldn't have to face Hyunjin. I could have stitched up these ridiculous wounds myself. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time.
The blond rummaged around in the cupboards and then came to me with everything he needed. He stood directly in front of me, his eyes meeting mine, before he silently began to remove the blood with a swab. As he carefully removed the blood from my lip and cheek, I felt something strange creep up inside me. It was unusual for me to be cared for by someone else, especially someone like him, who was actually just annoying me. His touch was gentle, as if he didn't want to hurt me.
"It will sting a little now," he whispered gently, his voice barely more than a breath. His fingers moved carefully over my skin as he cleaned and disinfected the wound while I endured the pain. "I'll numb it so you won't feel the stitches while I'm stitching," he continued, already reaching for a syringe. I put my hand on his arm and stopped him from continuing. "I don't need anesthesia. Just do it quickly so I can get to Hyunjin," I urged, looking directly into his eyes, which were so full of worry. "Are you sure? It will hurt and burn," he explained worriedly. I nodded and said, "Yeah, just do it now."
He hesitated for a moment and finally nodded. "If that's what you want," he said and reached for the needle and thread. As he started sewing, I felt a slight pain that made me wince. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on his face, which was so close in front of me. His eyebrows were drawn together as he concentrated on his work. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his gaze was full of concentration.
"Did you have a fight?" he asked as he cut off the excess thread. "Couldn't care less. You'd better hurry," I muttered, averting my eyes as he began to stitch my lip. "You shouldn't beat yourself up. You have such a pretty face, scars would ruin it," he whispered, his voice full of concern. "I look good even with scars," I replied confidently once he had finished on my lip too.
"Probably so," he agreed and began to clear away the used material. I watched him and followed his every move with my gaze. "Why are you helping? Aren't you getting into trouble?" I asked curiously. I was interested to know why someone would be so selfless. Because no one acted selflessly; everyone was focused on themselves and they were most important to themselves.
He turned to me and shrugged his shoulders as he looked at me, his eyes full of uncertainty. "Felix and I will get in trouble anyway if they find out we let you walk around here at night without calling security," he replied. I continued to sit on the lounger and looked at him. "Then why are you doing it? I mean, I don't care, I'm still only going to come here at night," I said, shrugging my shoulders myself. "Ask Felix. He thinks it's okay," he replied and then looked to the side.
I stood up from the mat and stretched slightly. "No opinion of your own? Ridiculous," I commented and walked past him. "Whatever. Thanks Blondie," I added and opened the door. "Don't call me Blondie! I have a name. My name is Jisung," he said angrily, causing me to turn to him one last time. "Then dye your hair, blonde looks like shit anyway. Make it dark and maybe I'll be a bit nicer to you. And get rid of those ugly glasses, they look horrible," I said, watching his reaction. He looked at me indignantly and widened his eyes. "I can look however I want! Besides, I can't see anything without the glasses, I need them," he replied snappishly and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I don't care," I replied and then left the room to finally go to Hyunjin, my heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him.⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
YOU ARE READING
ENG - Fractured Fates ʰʸᵘⁿˡᶦˣ
Novela JuvenilHyunjin was a drug dealer and staggered through a world of endless parties, alcohol and sex. Rules? He wasn't interested in them. Consequences? Pah, he didn't care about them. He lived according to his own impulsive impulses regardless of the conseq...