Fighter || Lookism x Reader

9

A week had crawled by since the incident, and you still hadn't made it back to school. Most days you kept your phone off, only turning it on to send a brief text to your mom, assuring her everything was fine. It wasn't, but she didn't need to know that.

The rest of the time, you stayed put, just like Gun had insisted. Apparently, this whole situation wasn't something that could be fixed quickly, though he wouldn't say why. The waiting felt endless, an agonizing stretch of time where every second weighed on you.

Standing in front of the mirror, you stared at your reflection, the silence in the room thick and oppressive. Slowly, you peeled off your shirt, revealing the bandages still wrapped around your torso. The stab wound now etched across your stomach like a cruel reminder of how close things had come. "Great," you muttered bitterly, running your fingers lightly over the stitches.

Before you could get lost in your thoughts, the door swung open without warning. Your head snapped up, meeting Gun's eyes in the reflection of the mirror. He stood casually in the doorway, leaning against the frame as though he had every right to be there.

"Ever heard of knocking?" you snapped, irritation flaring as your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Gun's lips quirked into a faint smirk, unbothered by your reaction. "It's not like I haven't seen you like this before," he said, stepping into the room without hesitation and closing the door behind him.

Your face heated up even more, and you reached for your shirt lying on the bed, but Gun was quicker, snatching it away with an ease that only added to your annoyance.

"I just want to check the wound," he said, his voice soft but carrying that familiar authority you couldn't quite ignore.

Reluctantly, you sat on the edge of the bed as Gun grabbed a chair, pulling it closer. He leaned in, inspecting the stitches carefully. His fingers, cold against your skin, brushed over the area lightly, sending an unexpected shiver through you. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone gentler than usual.

"N-no," you stammered, hating how flustered you sounded. It wasn't the wound making you feel this way, and you were pretty sure Gun knew that.

"Good. Someone will be by next week to take them out," he said, his eyes meeting yours briefly before flicking down to your wrist. His thumb brushed over your pulse, and his expression shifted slightly. "Your heart's racing. Why?"

For a moment, you couldn't respond, frozen under the intensity of his gaze. Gun always had this way of making you feel vulnerable, and it frustrated you how easily he seemed to read you.

He stood up then, looming over you as his hand lifted your chin slightly, forcing you to look up at him. "You shouldn't make me feel this way," he murmured, his voice low and almost... vulnerable.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Feel what way?"

"Like I need you," he whispered, the words hanging in the air, almost too heavy to bear.

Just as the tension between you reached its peak, the door burst open, and Goo strolled in with his usual lack of regard for personal space or timing.

"Are you people allergic to knocking?" you snapped, quickly pulling your shirt over your head, your earlier embarrassment returning full force.

Goo, unfazed as always, raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "Have you talked to Jake yet?" he asked, ignoring your outburst completely.

Gun cleared his throat, pulling away from you and slipping back into his usual detached demeanor. "That's actually what I needed to discuss," he said, his eyes briefly meeting yours again.

"Oh," you muttered, your stomach twisting as the realization hit that Gun hadn't come in to check your wound.

"Jake has agreed to leave you alone," Gun explained. "If he wants to keep Big Deal, he knows better than to mess with you."

Relief flooded through you, but there was something else mixed in with it—an unease, a feeling that this wasn't truly over. "When can I go home?" you asked, hoping this ordeal was finally coming to an end.

Goo smirked. "Already tired of us?"

"I've always been tired of you," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Later, Gun parked his car outside your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt but hesitated before getting out. "Do you want me to come up with you?" Gun asked, his voice unusually quiet.

"No, my parents are home," you replied, keeping your tone light. "Probably best they don't see you."

He nodded, but there was something heavy in his expression, something unspoken. "Yeah, probably for the best."

You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Gun. I'll pay you back for this. Somehow."

His jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "Don't worry about it." His voice softened, almost as if he didn't want to say the next part. "It's probably better if we... keep our distance."

The smile slipped from your face. "Right. Of course."

"If you want a normal life," he continued, his words deliberate, "we can't be around each other. I don't want to pull you back into this."

"Okay," you said quietly, swallowing the hurt that lodged itself in your chest. "Guess this is goodbye, then."

Without waiting for his response, you opened the door and stepped out, heading into the building without looking back. But you could feel his eyes on you the whole way.

———
Gun stood on the balcony with Goo, the night air cool against his skin. He lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag as he tried to calm his nerves.

"Did you really talk to Jake?" Goo asked, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Yeah, but he didn't know about the stabbing," Gun replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the dark sky.

"So why lie to her?"

Gun's gaze lingered on the horizon for a moment before answering. "It's time for her to move on. If anyone deserves a normal life, it's her."

Goo raised an eyebrow, giving Gun a knowing look. "So, it wasn't jealousy, then?"

Gun shot him a warning glance, but before he could respond, Goo waved it off. "Anyway, I took care of it, like you asked."

"Thanks," Gun said. "I owe you for that."

"Don't worry about it. I did it for her." Goo shook his head, smirking. "You still like her, don't you?"

Gun chuckled, the sound humorless. "I never liked her like that."

Goo didn't press further, but his expression said he didn't buy it. "Just make sure it stays nothing. You don't deserve her, man."

Gun didn't respond, but deep down, he knew Goo was right. None of them did.

———————
(A/N: Do you guys like the way the story is going? Please let me know!!)