stuck [choi yeonjun]

3

°°°

My eyes flutter open, adjusting with the harsh Monday's daylight pouring in the room through the open window.

I wish the curtains weren't peeled and the sun light wasn't illuminating the whole emergency room because I, badly, want to take a nap, right now.

Wait why am I here in the first place?

My eyes wander around to see the very familiar infirmary of this institution.

I was about to get up but the sudden twisting of the doorknob turns me down from doing so, with nervousness and anxieties rushing in my mind, I quickly lay down again and close my eyes.

Sound of footsteps gets closer each second as I persuade my brain to recall all the embarrassing moments of my life so that I can distract myself.

And suddenly I feel a weight over my whole body. Two elbows beside my two sides and breathings are merely burning my skin. It's difficult to act all well unconscious in this moment. My heart is beating faster rapidly and beads of sweats form on my forehead. I'm feeling so scared. It's scary. And this makes a shiver run down to my spine again cause I finally realize that shade of red. That red in their eyes. Who could it be? Why I'm getting afraid? Open your eyes, kick its ass hard and escape. What if it has no ass? What if it is a ghost? Oh lord I swear I said I didn't believe in you but if you save me today and let me live I will start to believe in you.

A chuckle escapes from its mouth making me realized it's a he.

The face starts to come closer towards my ear, stops until his lips are a few centimetres away from my earlobe and whispers, "Red what?"

"Yeah I know you are acting now." He adds and I gasp, flying one of my kneecaps to hit his stomach. Wrong move since I was hoping to kick his balls. I hastily get up from the bed and try to escape but he grips on my wrist tightly.

"What do you think you are doing?" I shout, letting out a cry in confusion.

"What happened?" The blue hair guy asks, tilting his head.

Gathering my guts, I yell, "Stop, remove your hands from me."

However, the words haven't really come out with confidence, at least I tried.

He drops my hand in response and stares at me with a sort of look on his face, one would give to someone lame and unfunny.

"Why are you creating noise?" He asks, snorting.

Upon hearing the dumb question, I can't help frowning, "Yeah, as if I would enjoy a stranger hovering over me and blabbering things into my ear?"

"No, you would not until that 'any stranger' was me." He arches one of his eyebrows, pointing his index finger at himself with an aura filled with narcissism.