SAVED ☆ Bang Chan [COMPLETED]

12

I fly out of the door as quickly and quietly as I can, ignoring my passed out mother on the sofa, empty bottles of liquor scattered on the dirty floor around her. My body groans in protest at my rapid movements and I grit my teeth together, ignoring the pain embedded into my muscles as I step outside. I gulp in the fresh air, contrasting to the stale, thick air inside my house.

I straighten out the chains clanking together on my skirt and smooth out my unruly, silver curls before hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing ... what if she finds out where I'm actually going?

Shuddering, I shut the gate behind me. I don't even want to imagine what would happen.

Making my way down the street, I keep my head down to avoid eye contact being drawn to my now evidently bruised face, the aftermath of last night. I tried covering it with heavier makeup than usual, but I guess even the toughest of concealers aren't enough to cover this mess on my face. I let my hair fall infront as much as possible, allowing me to hide behind it like a curtain of protection.

I keep walking until a pair of black boots appear on the pavement infront of me, and I stop walking. I look up slowly, catching sight of a smiling Chan. His smile quickly melts off of his face when he catches sight of me, and his breath hitches as he takes a hesitant step closer to me. He slowly raises a hand as if he's trying to tame a wild cat and his fingertips find their way to my face, his touch as light as a breath of air. His hands shake as he traces all the bruises on my face, his eyes flooded with misery.

"Y/N," my name comes out of Chan's mouth in a small whisper and I look up into his eyes, my head spinning as I read the emotion held in them. He lets his hands drop from my face and reach for my hands instead, pulling me into him. I allow him to hold me as I wrap my arms around him, clutching at his strong torso as I bury my face in his neck, blocking out my surroundings. For a while it's just Chan and I, standing there, hugging each other.

Chan softly runs his hands over my back, as careful as he can be so he doesn't accidentally hurt my abused body.

After a while, I reluctantly pull away, keeping my hands on his waist as I look up at him. My face splits into a genuine smile, and he returns it, his face still filled with hurt as he runs his gaze over my bruises.

"What did she do to you?" Chan asks rhetorically, his hands entwining with mine. "She really got you, huh?"

I nod. "Don't worry. It happens often, I'm used to it."

Chan stops in his tracks, completely flabbergasted. "That's even more of a reason for me to worry. It shouldn't be happening at all. Its wrong,"

I shrug, rethinking my decisions as the muscle there groans with discomfort. "Tell that to my mother."

He pulls a sad face at me and starts walking again, falling into step beside me. Chan leads the way with subtle glances at me every now and then, and each time I can't help but catch sight of the worry in his eyes.

"Y/N?" He suddenly asks me.

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

I try not to choke. Am I being obvious? Are my thoughts floating above me out in the open or something? I sure hope not ...

"What makes you think anything is wrong?" I ask out of curiosity.

"You're acting different," Chan replies simply. I'm surprised. How does he know?

"How so?" I am intrigued.

Chan chuckles. "It's the little things. You're kind of dragging yourself instead of walking with confidence like you usually do, your hands are clenched at your sides and you're not speaking at all," he explains.