chapter 103 ~ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓

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CONTAINS MENTION OF SPIKING & GUNS, MINOR BLOOD, FLUFF, & ANGST

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     They put something in my drink. The paramedics...or maybe it was the nurse that had taken me and Officer Park into my hospital room. Shortly before I passed out, I'd given Officer Park Yoongi's number so that he could come down and take me home. After being laid out in the cushiony patient's bed with the flatscreen TV running, I expected a doctor to walk into my room with a clipboard in hand as he adjusted his thick-framed glasses atop his small nose. I expected to be told that my injuries were minor enough to go home that moment, to see Yoongi running through the front sliding doors to scoop me up in his arms and bring me back to his car.

      But, there was none of that. I listened to the nurses and doctor talking in hushed voices near the door of my room. I had a bullet lodged into the center of my right foot. A small surgery would have to be performed in order to remove it and I would have to go under in order to do so. Officer Park mentioned to the nurse that I was on edge and skiddish, and with that information she handed me a small, white plastic cup filled to the brim with water, and I drank. For a few minutes, while she checked the machines and computer nearby, Officer Park and I held eye contact from across the room. He watched me with his legs crossed over each and and his hands clasped around the front of his knees. The tapping of his foot seemed to thump through my head as if someone were walking around inside of it. My vision began to swim and I hummed uncomfortably as I fumbled around for the emergency button on the side of my bed railing. I pressed it, but nothing happened. The nurse to my left tapped something repeatedly beside her computer that counteracted my panicked button-pressing. I felt the breath hitch in my throat before everything went dark.

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      My arms felt heavy; again. I flexed my fingers to feel the pain flare up in my left shoulder and let out a sigh. It didn't hurt as much as it had back at Yura's. I didn't even know when I had left his apartment, let alone what time it was now. After the nurse had put something in my drink, they must've taken me back to perform the surgery on my foot. I blinked slowly past the dim lighting in my hospital room and gave it a wiggle. It was wrapped tightly in pale, beige bandages and I could just see a little blood seeping through the top of my foot. I let my head fall back onto my pillows with a groan, numbness filling my body as my eyes fluttered shut.

       The sounds of the hospital had begun to mingle together. Children crying, people chattering quietly out in their waiting rooms and in the hall. Nurses laughing on their lunch break or in their corner desks, clopping by in various brands of tennis shoes. Outside my room, the door shut, I watched as a nurse passed by the small head-level window. She had pretty, pin-straight black hair with blonde ends. She was conversing with another woman just out of sight before they shared a cackle and trotted off down the hall. Upon their disappearance, my door creaked open and a hooded figure slipped into the room and flicked on the lights.

       I groaned as I pushed back into my pillows. I shielded my face with my good arm from the blinding light as I pondered who had decided now was a good time to disturb me. My heart skipped a beat as I swore I recognized Yura from behind, but then I remembered that Officer Park had thrown him in the back of his cruiser and he wouldn't be getting to me anytime soon. The hooded figure turned around and ripped the cloth from atop its head, and my mouth fell agape in disbelief.

      "You're okay."

     Jungkook stumbled forward and collapsed at my bedside, his hands running up my torso and chest to cup my face. I felt tears dampen his palms until they were slick against my skin. My hands grabbed at his wrists to tug him forward until I could envelop him in my embrace. I breathed in his scent as if there were no tomorrow, my nails digging into his back so hard I was afraid I'd draw blood through his rumpled clothes. Breathing became difficult as I broke down into ugly sobs that I muffled in the crook of his neck, fisting the back of his dark-blue, plaid shirt. The maknae pulled away with pretty, blood-stained eyes and tears that turned his cheeks a bright pink. The smile he wore was so relieved I couldn't help but laugh as I ran my hands across his face and through his hair to fist at the roots.

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