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1:27 ───ㅇ───── 3:47 ↻◁ II ▷↺
y/n pov
the doorbell rings, slicing through the silence like a knife, and my entire body jolts with panic. jaemin's eyes flicker in surprise, but before he can even react, i'm already tugging him off the couch with a panicked urgency. my fingers grip his arm, hauling him upright despite the hiss of pain that escapes his lips as i drag him toward the stairs. the dull throb of footsteps outside echoes in my mind, each one heavy with the weight of potential disaster. my heart races when i hear the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the door lock. "come on, come on," i mutter under my breath, nearly stumbling as i reach the top of the stairs. we scramble into my room, and i practically shove jaemin inside before slamming the door behind me, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. for a second, the world spins around me, adrenaline spiking so high that i can hardly think.
downstairs, i can hear the door open and my mom's footsteps softly crossing the floor. i smooth my hair back with trembling hands and hurry down the stairs, praying my face doesn't betray the whirlwind of anxiety twisting inside me. when i reach the living room, my mom is standing in the middle of the room, frowning at the mess i left behind—the first aid kit splayed open, bloody tissues scattered, and jaemin's white shirt smeared with crimson stains draped over the arm of the couch. my stomach twists as she turns to face me, her eyes filled with concern.
"did something happen to you?" she asks, stepping forward quickly. her hands cup my face gently, tilting my head from side to side as she inspects me, her gaze sweeping over every inch of me like i might shatter at any second. her voice is laced with worry, and the warmth of her hands does little to soothe the frantic beating of my heart. "i'm fine, mom," i assure her quickly, forcing a smile onto my lips. "i was just hanging out with a classmate, and he fell off his bike. he had a pretty bad nosebleed, so i brought him here to help clean him up." my words tumble out in a rush, barely giving myself time to breathe, and i hope desperately that the lie holds together. her brow furrows slightly, but she nods, though her eyes linger on the first aid kit with quiet suspicion. "oh, is he still here?" she asks, her voice light as she moves into the open kitchen, reaching for a teapot. my stomach tightens. "n-no, he just left a few minutes ago. that's why everything is still a mess," i explain, hurrying over to the couch and gathering up the first aid supplies with hands that feel too clumsy. my mind is racing, a tangled mess of thoughts.
as i work to tidy up the scattered bandages and gauze, she pauses, glancing back at me over her shoulder. "did he leave without a shirt?" the question hangs in the air like a slow, ominous pulse, and i freeze for a split second before fumbling for an answer. "uh, i gave him one of my bigger shirts to wear," i mumble, hoping the heat rising to my cheeks isn't too noticeable. i can feel the weight of her gaze, and i don't dare look up. the air feels heavy, like it's pressing down on me. i'm doomed. i know it. she's going to see right through me. but before she can ask any more questions, i blurt out, "i've got a ton of homework to finish, so i'm going upstairs. please don't bother me."
