Hard to Love - (chanbaek)

68

TW: Blood

Everyone froze at the loud sound. The gunshot put them into a terrifying state. How could such a thing occur at this exact baseball game? The team turned to the field and watched Baekhyun slowly drop to his knees. Chanyeol felt his heart twist. He wanted to run to his boyfriend, but his coach held him back. He had a frightened face, and he stared at the gate worried. He knew he shouldn't let anyone else on the field if there was someone with a gun outside.

Baekhyun felt the grains of sand gush into his knees as he shook his head. The pitcher had fallen with a thud right in front of him, making the small rocks fly into the air along with the thick dust. He shook his head and rushed to the pitcher with a worried stare.

"No, no, no... please don't do this." He looked down at the blood on his hands and mumbled a few curses. This wasn't supposed to happen. Why today... why now? The pitcher touched his stomach with tears falling out of his eyes. His hand was visibly shaking, and his voice was caught at his throat. Baek held him close with glossy eyes. The pitcher could see nothing but guilt from the stare.

"Hey, I'm here with you. Don't go to sleep just yet." The pitcher was starting to get tired, his eyes drooping until a sudden pain came from his stomach. He winced at the bullet in his stomach, trembling when the sudden thought of dying crossed his mind. Baek looked up and noticed the guards running around. They were checking on the individuals sectioned at the bleacher to make sure they were alright. Some were walking outside by the gate to find the person holding the gun.  He looked back down to the opposite player and smiled.

"I'll tell you a secret. M-my coach promised to take both of our teams to eat dinner right after this. You don't want to miss out on some free food, right-"

Bang!

The anxiousness everyone felt intensified with the second gunshot. Chanyeol felt his eyes water when he noticed the blood run down Baekhyuns arm. He felt weak just standing on the bench, not being able to help...

Baekhyun held his shoulder, his hands being covered in blood immediately. He turned to the shooter, and to his luck, the dimmed light had cleared the view. His eyes darkened as he saw the person behind the gate... what did he expect from his stepfather? His thoughts were interrupted when his coach lifted him up gently. Others began to run on the field to help the injured boy. No one could see his evil stepfather smirking at the bloody scene.

"He's right there!"

Baekhyun pointed at the shooter with tearful eyes. He watched as the guards rushed to his now running stepfather. They chased after the guilty man, hurrying out of the street light, leaving Baekhyun to stare at nothing but darkness. He took a deep breath and hoped they could catch him on time. He looked at his uniform stained in red, the sight of blood making him feel nothing but guilt.

This is my fault. This is my fault. This is my fault-

The loud sounds made him look up only to see the injured pitcher being placed on the transfer bed. The nurse held a towel to his stomach and hurried out of the field with a few guards. He watched as the boy winced in pain, his eyes becoming tired as more blood seeped out of his stomach.

Don't go to sleep... please-

"Baekhyun, are you alright? We need to-" He cut off his coach and rushed out of the field, feeling sick to his stomach. He could hear multiple individuals call for him, but he couldn't face any of them right now. He stared at his hands before kicking the bathroom door, sighing when he saw no one else inside.

I need to take this off...

He turned on the faucet and pushed his hands under the cold water. The clear liquid turned red from all the blood. Baekhyun felt his tears fall and only shook his head, the vivid memories flooding his mind. The way he beat his stepfather... all the blood that splattered on his hands and face. It was too familiar... he hated this feeling. He scrubbed his hands harshly, trying to get the blood off. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but for some reason, he could still see red. His hands were clean, but he still saw the red substance everywhere... he held onto the sink, feeling his legs give out. The handprints of red blood and the dirty water inside the sink made his stomach curl. He felt his sob rush up his throat. The entire scene disgusted him. He covered his mouth before rushing into one of the stalls. He fell to his knees and let everything out. He let his hands fall before getting closer to the seat. He vomited from all the worry and stress, the awful taste filling his mouth. The burning sensation ran through his chest as he coughed out his anxious thoughts into the stall. His eyes begun to sting, his body frozen like a lifeless puppet. He heard the automatic flush after getting up with tired eyes. He cupped the sink water before filling his mouth. He swished it around before spitting the water out, the bitter taste staining his tongue in annoyance.