Enhypen Imagines

Disappeared Love | P.Sh

Book work in progress

Skin against skin sounds, grunts and groans. Already when I turned the corner down the street I could hear those sounds echo out down the street. It was clear there was a fight going on somewhere down this street, but I could see none of it.

I could only clutch my bag closer in my hand as I walked down the street, keeping my eyes fixed on my apartment complex, just a few buildings down the street.

The sounds of two people fighting only grew louder as I moved further down the street, and soon it was clear to me it was happening right down the alley that I was a few steps from standing beside.

I took my time to stop up completely and contemplate whether or not I should cross the street, in order to not get dragged into something, or should I just continue walking like I heard nothing.

It was then it dawned upon me, it was the same voice that kept making sounds of pain. It wasn't a fight, it was someone getting beat up. It was the same groans and complaints that kept sounding out.

How stupid it sounds, there was something in me that just simply made me step in front of the alley and look down at it. A man, covered by a hood, stood hovered above a black lump, hitting and kicking whilst muttering incoherent things I couldn't hear.

"Excuse me?" I spoke up, surprisingly enough my voice wasn't shaky, as I would've thought it would be. The hooded person immediately froze and looked to me. It was too dark down the alley for his face to be illuminated, "what are you doing?"

"Mind your own business," the man grumbled.

"I actually don't think so, no," I shook my head, "you're clearly hurting this person, and for what reason?"

"They owe me," the man simply grumbled back, making me simply hum and glance to my side, the street was all empty beside me and the two people in the alley.

"What do they owe you?" I questioned calmly.

"Money."

"And you think beating this person... possibly to their death, will make them pay you the money they obviously don't have yet," I remarked.

"But he do."

"How would you know?" my questioned echoed throughout the alley, making it fall silent right after.

The man turned his head down at the dark lump before kicking it one last time, earning a small yelp in return.

"You better pay me back before this week ends," the man grumbled.

I watched as the man looked up at me once again, before simply marching towards me and bumping his shoulder with mine.

"What manners," I muttered as I watched him disappear down the street and around the corner.

My mind immediately trailed back to the helpless lump, making my eyes turn to it once more. The person was standing on all fours by now, breathing heavily and clearly struggling to get up.

"Let me help you," I rushed over and helped the person stand up, before they tried to shake me off.

"Don't miss. You need to get home," it was a man's voice.

"No, it's fine. I live in the next apartment complex, and you're clearly injured... and seemingly harmless for the time being," I assured him, "let me take you to my appartment and I'll help you with your injuries before bringing you to a hospital."

"No hospital," the man shook his head at me.

"If your injuries is severe enough I'll take you to one," I insisted and assisted the man out of the alley.

He was severely limping beside me, hunched over as he clutched his side. I was quick to help him into my apartment complex and helped him fight up the stairs up to my apartment on the third floor.

"Miss, I really don't thin-" the man started once again as I unlocked my door and helped him inside.

"Stop it," I shook my head, "you need some help. You can't go home in this state. And stop calling me miss, I'm not that old."

As I turned to the man I realized he was holding his head low, and just moved his head away whenever I tried to take a look at his face.

"Can you walk on your own?" I questioned and he silently nodded, "first room on the left. I'll go get the first aid kit."

I watched as he made his way down to the room I had told him to go to, before I continued a bit further down the hallway and grabbed my first aid kit as well as a few ice packs from my small freezer.

I quickly rushed back down the hallway, and threw the ice packs on the bed beside the man, as he insisted on keeping his head down.

"You have to lift your head if I have to clean the cuts on your face," I pointed out and opened the first aid kit as I knelt in front of him and grabbed the alcohol wipes from my box, "do you reckon three alcohol wipes should be enough?"

"I think I have to go miss," the man spoke up.

"I'm not letting you go before you let me help you," I stated calmly.

"You've already helped," he stated.

"Come on, let me help," I urged, "just lift your head for me to see. I promise I won't call the police if you're a criminal," I let out a small laugh.

"Are you sure miss?" he spoke.

"Positive," I nodded in assurance.

"Suit yourself," he sighed before simply lifting his head and staring down at me, a smug yet sad look sprawled across his face, "hi."

Sure it had been some time... two years, since I last saw him. And right now he did have a badly bruised upper lip, cuts across his cheeks and eyebrows. But I immediately recognized him, I would always recognize that face. The only thing was... why didn't I recognize his voice?

As reality gripped onto me I had quickly closed the first aid kit and immediately stood up to smack his chest and shoulders as I just felt everything well over me once again.

"How dare you turn up like this again?" I complained and felt my eyes well up, "you say you love me, and we were doing just fine, then you change, become distant, and just suddenly disappear with no evidence of where you went and why... I. Fucking. Hate. You."

"No you don't," he calmly spoke and grabbed the first aid kit from my hands, before I could hit him once more, "if you really hated me, you wouldn't react like you're doing right now."

"No, I hate you. I fucking hate you Park Sunghoon."