i'm your a to z | jihancheol

when everything changes, who do you go to?

chapter 23

"What did you do?" Seungcheol could hear a faint voice. It sounded like Joshua. He couldn't remember anything.

"Is it healing?" That was Jeonghan.

"Not really, but he's forgotten what just happened." Junhui's accented Korean. Everything sounded so far away.

"Can you answer my question?" Seungcheol asked. "Why am I here?"

"We'll tell you later. For now, don't move." Junhui stood up. "Joshua, Jeonghan, carry him to the car."

"I don't need to be carried!" He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in his side made him collapse. Yet, he remained stubborn, protesting as he was picked up by the two men. God, this was humiliating.

He was forced to sit in the car, holding the knife to his side so it wouldn't fall out. It only hurt whenever he moved, which was unusual. Jeonghan sat by his side, refusing to say anything as they drove to the hospital. The doctors seemed shocked to see Seungcheol awake and unphased but removed the blade and sewed the skin together. They told him to rest and specified that meant no exercise or angry outbursts. That was going to be difficult.

Only when they walked back to the car had Seungcheol realized the window was broken.

"What the fuck happened?!" he shouted and ran over to the car.

When Jeonghan and Joshua flinched, Junhui only sighed and forced him into the car. While Seungcheol complained about the car, the others paid no mind to him. Being the attention-needy Leo he was, it only made him angrier but remained silent.

After half an hour or so, they reached his house and Seungcheol headed straight to his room. At first, he was confused as to why his clothes were on the bed and wondered why he was wearing a suit.

That's when all the memories came back to him.

"I'm going to kill Jeonghan," he muttered. All his energy to get angry had been lost. That was a first; usually nothing stopped him from being mad. He moved his clothes to side before taking his current ones off to go to sleep.

Despite being tired, sleep didn't come to him. He lied on his back, occasionally tracing over the bandages under the blanket. He heard the door open and when he turned his head to look, Jeonghan and Joshua had walked into the room. Jeonghan stayed behind the other and it was the first time Seungcheol had ever seen him act scared.

"What do you want?" Seungcheol asked without a hint of expression in his voice.

"We were going to ask if you needed anything," the American answered. "And we also wanted to apologize."

"It's whatever." He'd been through worse and it was the broken car that was the issue. "Could you get me some water?"

Joshua nodded and walked out. He'd said something into Jeonghan's ear, to which the other only frowned. When the two were left alone, Jeonghan walked to him and sat on the nightstand.

"Don't sit there."

Jeonghan immediately got off. It was strange to see him like this: quiet and listening to him.

"Is there something you need?"

"No," Jeonghan finally spoke. "I wanted to apologize. It was my fault."

"I said it's whatever." He wanted to say yes, it was but he didn't have the emotional energy to be mad. "Unless you want to go get my car fixed."

"I'm broke and I couldn't drive it anyways. Left my license at home."

"I'll pay, just get Joshua to drive it. If there's nothing else you need, you can leave me alone."

Jeonghan nodded and walked out of the room.

When he left, Seungcheol knew he'd have to welcome back the awkward tension. Why couldn't anything ever go right? Joshua and Jeonghan had even more reason to leave now. Why did he even care if he always acted like he wanted Jeonghan gone? It was probably because he didn't want Jeonghan going back to his family. Seungcheol wasn't a totally evil person; he never wanted anyone hurt the way Jeonghan was. And he knew what would happen to him. He even assumed that's what he was trying to do the day they were reunited.

Whatever. He had Joshua now so he'd most likely be fine. Seungcheol already knew he'd be upset if Joshua left but the other was probably eager to leave. The American probably thought he was the biggest asshole and was ready to go whenever.

It didn't matter, right? He told himself he didn't need anyone so why did he still care? All those years of social isolation had done nothing, huh?