HOW TO SAVE A LIFE - For Dummies

Chapter 11

The bathroom door clicks. "I'm not doing this." I demand as Taehyung's hand leaves the lock. I stand at the other end of the large, expensive bathroom, my arms crossed defensively as I glare at the bipolar kid across me. He puts down his first aid kit next to him, leaving the door as he sighs and walks toward me. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot-" I sprint as quick as I can, the element of surprise on my side as I try to swerve past him and towards the locked door.

He yanks me back harshly, I go flying, my hood coming off at the same time as I grab onto his shirt pulling him down with me and twist myself so he takes the fall. He groans as I land on his waist. I try to pull myself up quickly but he grabs my waist keeping me down. A shiver racks up my spine, the proximity between us nonexistent. "Stop. You'll hurt yourself even more." He groans out. "Let me go you bipolar bitch!" I yell ignoring the sudden realisation of pain. He doesn't let go as I squirm in fright and pain, hitting his chest harshly. "I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down."

I stop soon after my arms hurting too much. He lets go as I get up, him doing the same soon after. He dusts himself off as he speaks. "As I was saying before, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just.. shy you could say. I'm sorry for being so rude in our first confrontation." That's not what I was expecting. I stare at him blankly before he sighs. "You need your wounds cleaned. Let me." I don't say anything as I contemplate. He might hurt me, but if I don't let him I'll most likely die from the stupid injuries. I'm so going to kill the mother fucker. I hesitantly limp towards the bench and jump on top of it, hissing at the pain before staring at Taehyung.

Something about him doesn't sit right with me. He brings the first aid kit over slowly before facing me. "You'll need to take your shirt off." He looks around nervously, scratching the back of his head. I do so slowly, not keeping my eyes off him as my arms and stomach scream in protest. He gasps as he takes in my wounds. "How did you stand this." This is when I look away for the first time. "I've had worse." I mumble.

Something about Bangtan doesn't sit right with me.

He's had worse? I try to distract myself from the comment and his shirtless body, my anger and disbelief growing as I absent mindlessly wet a cloth from the sink with warm water. "Are you okay?" I ask, turning to face him as I turn off the tap. "That's what I should be asking you." I didn't understand what he meant but I didn't question the wounded boy. I go towards him with the cloth as he looks at it warily. "I'm going to clean your wounds." He nods hesitantly as my hand reaches for his pale skin. He looks much skinnier than I last saw him, his skin is basically glow in the dark from how stark white it is. From the way he was scoffing down the water before and was bribed pretty easily with food, something bad happened.

The cloth barely touches the paper skin before a hand suddenly grabs mine roughly. Yoongi doesn't let go. "Wait." He hisses. He looks, scared? I look at his eyes, the swarm of bees buzzing erratically behind his eyes. "I'll try not to hurt you. I promise." His eyes brows unfurl slightly, staring deep into mine and nodding. He lets go of my wrist slowly, the coldness disappearing. My hand slowly goes towards his cheek. He arches back slightly but let's me get closer. The cloth reaches his cheek as his eyes close shut, sighing out heavily as his breath fans my face. "You'll have to brush your teeth too."

"Shut up." He says stiffly. I smile at him and softly glide the cloth down his cheek towards his chin, a bruise lining his jaw. I wipe the blood off softly as his eyes open hesitantly. I finish wiping his face as he stares at me. My hands unknowingly reach for his hair. He smacks them away before I could touch it. I half pout but move on. I wash the cloth in the sink before going back towards him. His face looks even paler now that the dirt and dust is gone. "Can I have your arm?" He holds out one of his arms and I grab it softly, positioning it to where it is comfortable.

I wipe upwards and towards his bullet wound. "I need to take the bullet wounds out before I do anything else." I probably should have done them first. I stand up and go back towards the first aid kit and get some equipment. There is not a lot but it's enough. "Here." I pass him some painkillers and fill up the cup with water from the sink as he downs both quickly. I sit back down in front of him grabbing some tweezers and a cloth. I tie the cloth above his wound tightly, grabbing the tweezers and look at him. No way would the pain killers set in yet. But I have to do it now.

"This is going to hurt a little."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Sorry."

I pull myself closer, and push the tweezers in his wound as he groans.

He looks about ready to throw me to the ground but restraining. The bullet falls from my grasp again. I grab the alcohol and drop it on his wound as he groans in pain again. I shove the tweezers in quickly and yank the bullet out as quick and hard as I can. I throw the bullet in the sink as he falls forward in pain. "I'm so sorry." My guilt gnawing at me. "I have to stitch it up now, quickly." He sits back up slowly as I grab the thread and a needle. I stitch it up quickly and wipe away the new blood.

"The pain killers finally kicked in now." He says softly, panting slightly from the exertion. "Or it has just gonna numb from the pain." I smile at him before moving onto the other bullet wound in his thigh. This time goes much quicker. I stitch up his stab wounds and clean out the small ones. "There. You're gonna be fine." I say happily as his dark, hollowed eyes study me. "I'm gonna clean you up now, sit tight." I grab the cloth again and rinse it well, ringing it out as I turn back to him. I softly wipe his arms down avoiding his bottom half.

He had to take his pants off so I could fix his thigh. His underwear was not the best. I wipe down his somewhat muscly stomach, the starvation leaving his ribs showing. I wipe around his abdomen skipping past his crotch to his legs, wiping them down softly and nervously. "Fuck." He groans.

"What?" Taehyung says from across from me worriedly. I forgot to grab my phone out of those clothes. I just hope no one got a hold of that. I'm too tired to worry about it. "Doesn't matter." I mumble. After a while of his soft movements he speaks. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause." I didn't have enough strength to come up with a good enough answer.

"That's not good enough." His voice fades in and out as I can't process it.

"Yoongi?"

"Yoongi!" His voice fades out as black overcomes my vision.

Did he just pass out? I put a towel over him quickly before unlocking the door and yanking it open. Five boys are scattered out side the door, half of them falling over from the sudden movement. "Is he okay?" Seokjin hyung asks first worry lacing his features.

"He passed out."