Seventeen Imagines

S.Coups

Imagine for yaniwoohyun

"That's it, you're all done up." You say, smiling at the soldier on the hospital bed.

"Thanks miss." He replies.

You help him sit up in the bed, as he groans from the pain his wounds cause him. He examines his freshly bandaged arm and gives you a pained smile.

"No problem. You should be able to leave in a week or so." You say.

He only nods in response. You swallow, nod and walk away.

It's late evening on the front lines, and you're just finishing up your shift at the war hospital you work at. You always saw the injured soldiers coming and going out of the tiny building you and a few other nurses worked in and you always saw the aftermath of the battles that took place almost everyday. But there was nothing you could do but try to fix the broken.

"Y/N!"

Someone from behind calls out your name. You turn to see your fellow nurse running up to you. Her face is worried and she looks at you desperately.

"What is it?" You ask her as she approaches.

"Squadron seventeen just came in. They're messed up bad, we need everyone helping out with this one!"

She grabs at your hands and pulls you into the east wing if the building. As you both walk in you clap eyes on the devastation in front of you. All the men were on beds either moaning out loud in pain or completely knocked out. You keep a straight face, knowing that if you reacted strongly, it would not help the situation.

You gulp. "Okay. Who needs my help?" You ask your friend.

"The last bed over there." She says, gesturing to the back of the room. She starts to tend to the other soldiers and you make your way over to the back.

The solider lying on the bed slowly comes into view. His dark hair was a total mess and his breathing was raspy and uneven. Blood stained the uniform on his chest and there was a deep gash on his forehead, soaking his hair. His eyes were closed and his head was turned away from you.

You take a deep breath. The table next to his bed had already been stocked with gauze, scissors, bandages, antiseptic, a string and needle for stitching and a syringe filled with anaesthetic to put him under if needed. You decide to leave him to rest so you silently start to unbutton his uniform, revealing a bullet wound on his chest, just below the collar bone.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?"

You look back at the soldier's face to see his head slightly raised at the pillow and his eyes on you.

"Excuse me?" You ask him, raising your eyebrows.

He tries to smirk but it comes out as more of grimace. "I guess you see a lot of bare chests with your job. Do you enjoy it?" He asks.

You look back at him, your expression totally blank.

"Try not to speak please. I need to concentrate."

He raises his arms up, acting innocent. "It was just an honest question sweetheart, I swear."

You take a cloth and soak it in the antiseptic liquid, ignoring him. You see him looking at you on the background as you wring the cloth out. You gently bring it down on the wound on his chest and he cries out in pain. His breathing picks up, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

"That stings." He mutters, his voice raspy.

"I'm sorry." You reply. His wound starts to bleed again, the blood running down his body.