Incoming call from
Innie 🦊💕
"Hello?" I answer, moving to the kitchen from where I was standing. "Jeongin?" I call again, confused as to why he called and wasn't responding.
I heard a whimper on the other end, worrying me further, "Innie love, I need you to answer me please."
"Mmph help," he whined, "threw up..."
I grab my keys on the counter, slipping on my shoes too, "hang in there baby, I'm coming."
-
I knock on his door before letting myself in. It was quiet inside, the only sound being a faint voice from the television. I step through the front hallway, turning into the kitchen and gasping at what I see.
Jeongin was lying on the floor, spread out right next to a pool of vomit. There were a few alcohol bottles on the counter and one next to him. He wasn't even conscious. At least the bottles weren't completely empty.
I crouch next to him, shaking his shoulder but getting no response. I sigh, going to the bathroom and turning the bath water on. He reeked of alcohol and puke.
Once I deemed it warm enough, I let it fill while I went back to my boyfriend. I grasped underneath his shoulders, heaving him up as gently as I could.
"Baby, wake up," I say loudly, struggling to get him in a position where I could carry him.
He hums, letting himself be dragged around like a doll. I groaned, lifting him into a chair before picking him up under his knees and bringing him into the bathroom. I helped him out of his clothes, leaving on his underwear, before setting him in the tub.
He opens his eyes, hitting his head on the back wall, "what are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning you up, baby," I say calmly, getting on my knees and grasping a clean washcloth. "You puked all over yourself, and you're all sweaty. You can take a nap as soon as you're clean, okay?"
He hums in agreement, letting me lift his limp arms and clean them. I made sure to wash around his mouth and neck. I grabbed a nearby cup, filling it with water before carefully pouring it in his hair and putting soap in it.
When I was done, I woke him up again so he could at least stand up so I could dry him off.
He leans into my arms, hugging the towel to his chest, "thank you, Channie."
I shake my head, a bit disappointed that he would get drunk by himself. I wonder what happened to make him do that anyway. He's not the drinking type.
I help him to his room, putting on dry boxers and a t-shirt. Lifting him on the bed, I cover him with the blankets, making sure he wouldn't get cold.
He was already passed out, so there wasn't much else for me to do. I head back out, grabbing cleaner and a mop. I wasn't going to leave that like for him to clean up himself.
What I didn't notice before, was a smashed bottle on the far wall of the kitchen. He was angry. My eyebrows come together; I try to think of any reason why he could get so angry or upset to do this, but nothing came to mind.
I clean everything up anyway, going back to his room to check on him. I lean against the doorway, scanning his features. He looked so much calmer while sleeping.
I decide to stay longer, so I could be there when he woke up. I hated to know he was hurting and I couldn't help him before.
-
As I was laying on the couch, watching a random movie that came up, I hear a few soft thuds. I stand and go to the room, opening the door and peeking my head in.
He's sitting on the floor, resting against the side of the bed. He holds his head, clearly in pain from a headache. I quickly walk over and grab the pills and glass of water I set out for him, crouching in front of him.
"Jeongie," I whisper, seeing him look up at me with doe eyes, "take this."
He stares at the pills in my hand, not moving.
"What's the matter?" I question, my voice soft as ever with concern.
I can see his bottom lip starting to tremble and tears flood his eyes in seconds.
"I'm sorry," he whispers harshly, sobbing out and letting his head drop in order not to look at me, "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean it."
I set the things down, reaching forward to hug him. He doesn't object, but he doesn't move his arms to hug me back. He rests his head on my shoulder, continuing to sob and cry.
"It's okay, Innie. Let it out, it's okay," I reassure, petting the back of his hair.
He nods, not verbally responding.
After he calms down, we both sit on the bed instead of the floor. He takes my hand, playing with my fingers and rubbing them.
"My parents just..." he begins, but I stop him.
"I know, baby. You don't have to explain it to me. Your parents are awful people. You don't deserve how the treat you," I say, kissing the side of his head.
He shakes his head, "I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I shouldn't have drank so much. I just didn't want to listen to anything anymore."
"I agree, you shouldn't have drank so much, but I'm just glad you called me. I know they've hurt you a lot, I know, but I'm here for you. I love you a lot, my little fox."
"I love you, too, Channie," he says, sadness laced within his voice. "Can we sleep? My head hurts."
"Of course. Anything to make you feel better."
•How was this?•
