Fan Service [Yunho]

9

Pain. It was all I could feel.

My body was heavy, every inch of me screaming in agony...except my voice which I couldn't muster the energy to use. I couldn't move, couldn't gather enough strength to even open my eyes. All I could do was breathe—if I could even call it that, since each breath felt like it was ripping through my chest.

But there was something else—voices, too many voices.

"Charlie..." It was Yunho's voice, distant but full of desperation. I wanted to answer him, wanted to tell him that I was here, that I was alive. But I couldn't. My body wouldn't listen.

I was vaguely aware of other voices—angry, distorted. My mother. My father. "Did you tell him where we live? He'll call the police!" Her voice rang out, sharp and accusing, making everything worse.

I tried to move, to get away, but I couldn't. My hands were still tied. My wrists burned, the ropes digging into my skin. I felt cold too—so cold, like ice had settled into my bones.

My father stepped on my hand, breaking the bones in each finger as he rushed towards the window to leave with my mother just as the wooden door creaked from efforts to open it on the other side.

The air was thick, but there was suddenly a faint scent—baby powder. It was soft and comforting, almost familiar. Yunho. I knew it was him.

Everything was fuzzy, spinning in and out, and I had no idea how much time had passed. "Dmitri! Over here!" Yunho shouted.

"Oh god," Dmitri gasped when he saw my disfigured body at the bottom of the stairs.

"I've got her, you go find her wallet and things she may need. Make sure you get something of her brother's, okay?" Yunho instructed him, and he headed off upstairs. I knew he'd find the bag by the window. At least it was already packed.

"I'm sorry Charlie. I have to touch you to help you. I'm sorry," Yunho whispered. I felt his fingers on my wrists, pulling the ropes loose. I winced, the sharp tug on the knots making my head swim, but I couldn't stop him. I couldn't stop anything.

The ropes fell away, and I was free—at least, my hands were. But my body was still trapped in pain. I felt Yunho move, felt the shift in the air as he leaned over me. His hands were under me now, pulling me carefully, gently.

"Charlie, just hold on. We'll get you some help," he promised.

Every inhale against his chest was filled with baby powder. As my breaths became colder, I knew we'd gone outside.

I tried to open my eyes, but it was too hard. The world spun too fast, and my head throbbed with every heartbeat. My body was weightless for a moment, like I was floating, then suddenly, I was on something soft—Yunho's lap, his arms holding me carefully, like I might shatter if he wasn't gentle enough.

I was barely aware of where I was, but I could feel the warmth of him against me, his legs under me, and his hand cradling my head, guiding it to stay still. Everything hurt, but at least I didn't feel alone.