move | kim do-gi imagines

scars.

i panicked because i know i published a imagine three days ago but time is ticking so i needed to come with one fast.

so, i was looking at prompts and my drabbles in my notes. then i decided to pick from the first one and there is your imagine.

TW: SELF HARM

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

you sat on the edge of your bed, hearing as the wind hustles and howls outside. the pitch black night sky and the streetlights that provide light for walking. the room light was dim, making the room look a little dark, just like how you were feeling.

gasping as the tears rolled down your cheeks, rubbing your nose as you sniffled. you wiped the tears from your eyes only for them to fall again. you closed your eyes, leaning your head in your arms as your body shuddered as you cried your heart out. the feelings so overwhelming, you wanted to stop crying but you couldn't. your nose was already red, your eyes puffing up as you looked in the mirror.

constantly wiping the tears away only created more.

slowly pulling your drawer open, you reached in, picking up a double edged blade wrapped in paper. you pulled your sleeve just barely up, exposing the fresh skin without any cuts. you sniffled once more, placing the blade onto your skin, pressing down ever so slightly. you pinched the blade with your two fingers, moving the object from side to side. it stung, you looked seeing the red line appearing as few droplets of blood start to appear. you wiped them away, continuing.

pinching the blade between your fingers, pressing down on the skin as it breaks, creating another line where blood droplets start to form. by the fourth time, you began to calm down, you stopped crying although it stung. you wiped your nose with your sleeve, using your hands to wipe away your tears.

knock. knock.

you jumped, startled, thinking you were home alone, dropping the blade onto the floor. "i'm coming in." you heard, as the knob twists, the door opened, as kim do-gi walked in. you reached over, grabbing the blade from the ground as you heard his footsteps approaching.

he caught your hand. "what is this in your hand?" he asked, prying open your hand as the blade drops onto the ground. his expression morphs into confusion as he picked up the blade. "what are you doing with this?" he asked, holding the blade for you to see. "nothing much. i just use it for opening things.." you trailed off, slowly pulling down your sleeve, trying to not make it noticeable.

you didn't want problems, you didn't want to talk about it or have someone blame you for being sad.

again, he caught your hand, rolling down your sleeve. the cuts were fresh and red, small droplets of blood forming ever so slightly. he gazed at the wounds on your arm, his thumb brushing over them. you pulled your arm back, at least you tried to. "what are you doing..? let go.." you said, your voice hoarse from crying.

his hands came to cup your cheek, thumb brushing under your eyes as if he's wiping your tears away. "what is it? why were you crying? why did you hurt yourself?" he asked, sitting down beside you. "you're hurt, we have to treat this." he said, holding your arm. "no, it's okay. it's not that deep." you shrugged, pulling your hand from him.

he sighed, standing up abruptly. "this won't do." he muttered, scratching his brow. "just leave it. it's not that bad, it's not like i'm dying!" you said, standing up abruptly. "why are you so worried?" you asked, crossing your arms.

he reached out, grabbing your arm as he dragged you out of the room. he dragged you into the kitchen, turning on the faucets as he lets the water mix. he puts his hand under, feelings the warmth before pulling your wrist towards the water. "you really don't have to do all this.." you mumbled.

you sighed. he sat you down on the couch, running towards the cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit. you looked down at your arm, brushing your fingers over the lines. he came back, sitting beside you, taking your arm in his hands. he pulled out the rubbing alcohol, pouring some onto the cotton puff. he placed the cotton puff onto the wound as you hissed in pain, pulling your hand away.

he catches your wrist, pulling your arm forward as he dabbed the puff onto your wounds, blowing gently. "don't ever do this again. if you need to talk to someone, i'm here." he said, sternly. "okay?" he asked, again. you stared at the ground, turning to look at him as you nodded, slowly. "you can always talk to me. i don't want you suffer and it gets to a point where you need to resort to these things which are harmful." he said, as he focused on treating your wound.

he pulled out a white plaster, placing it onto of the wounded area. "there. treatment is done." he said, putting the first aid kit onto the table.

"should we get ice cream?"

"sure.." you nodded.