House Of Cards

The Copy Machine

Suho gathered his stuff and left this morning. He was surprisingly calm. Although, he did give me a nasty look on his way out. I'm slightly on edge now, but then again, when am I not?

"(Y/n), the copy machine is stuck again," Sara says, stopping me in the middle of the hallway.

I follow her to the room, rolling my sleeves up as we walk. When we get there, I notice a few other assistants crowding the stubborn machine.

"If I don't get Mr. Jung his papers he's going to fire me," a girl says.

She's a newer assistant, just started a couple of weeks ago. I recognize the fear in her eyes, remembering how scared I was when I was in her position.

"Nobody's getting fired. This machine's been messed up for as long as I've been here," I reply, opening the top of the machine.

Sara smiles, "She's the only one that can ever get it working again."

I shove my arm down into the machine like I've done many times before. There's a certain spot that the paper gets stuck in, but once you pull the wad of paper out, it'll be fine.

My fingers feel around the machine until I grasp the ball of paper. "Got it."

As I'm pulling the bits of paper out, the machine suddenly starts again. I try to pull my hand out, but the metal inside it slices through the top of my hand.

"Oh my God, turm it off!" Sara yells.

I ignore the pain, trying to remain calm. If I start to freak out, then everyone around me will begin to panic. The last thing I need right now is a bunch of twenty year old girls screaming in my ears.

"It's unplugged!"

The machine turns off, the metal inside finally coming to a stop. I let out a shaky breath, and Sara rests her hand on my shoulder.

"Is your arm stuck?"

"I can get it out," I answer.

"What's going on in here?"

I turn around, my eyes widening when I see Hajoon standing in the doorway. He looks around, quickly accessing the situation. When his eyes move back to me, he rushes forward.

"What happened?"

"I was trying to get the paper unstuck, but the machine suddenly started up again. It's never done this."

My voice is shaky, shakier than I care to admit. I close my eyes tightly, hoping the pain will go away.

"Call the manufacturer of these machines, tell them we'll be filing a lawsuit. I want this company shut down," Hajoon says sternly.

The poor girl nods in fear and runs off, most likely trying to find the nearest phone. Hajoon takes his suit jacket off, handing it to Sara. He rolls his sleeves up all the way to above his elbows and stands next to me.

His hands grasp my arm, gently pulling it out of the machine. I brace myself for what I'm about to see.

There's a long gash on top of my hand going from in between my middle and ring fingers, all the way down to my wrist. My hand is covered in blood, but I'm not missing any fingers, and the cut isn't deep enough for stitches.

"That's a lot of blood," a girl mumbles.

Hajoon takes his jacket from Sara, bringing it closer to my hand. I pull away from him, "Are you insane? I'll get blood all over your jacket."

"I need to wrap your hand until we can get to the closet bathroom to wash it," he says calmly.

"That looks really expensive, I don't want to ruin it-"

"Do you really think that this jacket is worth more than you?" He snaps.

His words silence me, causing me to freeze in shock. He wraps the jacket around my hand, holding it in place. Hajoon places his other hand on my back and gently pushes me forward. I let him guide me through the hallways, ignoring the strange looks we're getting.

The bathrooms come into view, and he ushers me into the gender neutral one. He drops the now ruined jacket and turns the faucet on. I watch in silence as he rinses the blood off my hand.

"Stitches won't be necessary, but it'll need to be wrapped," he says.

I finally look up at him, my stomach flipping when our eyes meet. He raises an eyebrow, a questioning look on his face. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, thank you," I reply, looking back at my hand.

He turns the faucet off and grabs a few of the napkins from the basket on the sink. It takes a few layers of the napkins, but eventually, my cut is covered.

"I have a first aid kit in my office," he says, grabbing his jacket and opening the door.

I hold the napkins down on the cut, following him wordlessly. He's a few steps ahead of me, already stepping into the empty elevator. His hand holds the door open as I step inside. I push myself as far away from him as I can, like I always do.

When the elevator doors open again, we make our way to his office. He points to the couch in the middle of the room. I nod in response and sit down quickly. He disappears into the room behind his desk, so I take the time to look around.

This office is much bigger than I remember. The few times I've been in here, I was too focused to really get a look at it.

"Care to explain why you had your arm in the copy machine?"

I flinch, not noticing how close he's gotten. He's sitting on the coffee table in front of me now, the first aid kit sitting next to him. Our knees touch, and I swear I feel a bolt of electricity course through me.

"That particular machine has a habit of getting a major paper jam. Normally, I can just pull the paper out, and it doesn't start up again until you push the start button. I guess the safety feature went out. "

"That company advertises their machines having the best safety features. They're supposed to last five or more years, but that machine is only two years old," he says.

He takes my hand, resting it on his knee while he picks through the first aid kit. My heart begins to race, fast enough that my vision momentarily blurs.

"Are you alright?"

I look back at him, "Yes, I'm just a bit lightheaded."

He begins cleaning the cut, I wince at the stinging but stay still. His movements are gentle, his fingers moving slowly as he wraps my hand. I slowly look up to watch his face. It's as stoic as always.

"For now on if there's an issue of any kind, find me. Never try to fix anything on your own."

I'm taken aback by his words, staying silent for a few seconds before responding. "If I can't fix it myself or with Dohyun's help, then I will get you."

"That's not what I said," he says, looking up to meet my eyes.

"I can make my own decisions."

His eyes light up, now holding a challenging look. I'm sure most people would back down, but I refuse.

"Of course," he says.

I look down to see that my hand is still resting on his knee. My face burns in embarrassment as I quickly pull my arm back to my side.

"Thank you, Mr. Wi. I should be going now."

He follows me to the door, opening it for me. When I step outside, he calls out to me.

"You need to be more careful."

I nod, "I'll try my hardest."