THIRTY FOUR

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Scans, scans, and more scans. 

I wasn't surprised to hear that I have a minor fracture in my skull as a result of something known as blunt force trauma. Nor was I shocked at the news I'll need to resume with using my crutches for another three weeks, or that the bones of my shoulder blades have bruised. 

Waking up inside of a hospital was something that I found sadly familiar. I remembered everything which happened. A small part of me wished that I woke up with no recollection of what happened - and what almost happened to me again. 

After I was told by a nurse of my injuries, after multiple scans and time to fully remember what happened, I broke down almost instantly. V was sitting by my bed, his hand tightly gripping mine in an attempt to comfort me. 

He tried to calm me down but he couldn't. Nobody could have at that point. I started to hit and throw things - not V, I would never hurt him, but the lamp on the desk beside my bed, a television remote, I even tried to punch the wall to feed the burning anger - but the nurses had already worriedly burst into the room and were forced to sedate me. 

I woke up again to see that my hands were tied loosely to each side of the bed. I wasn't surprised, but it still made me uncomfortable and panicky. 

"V, tell them to get these off me." Were the first words I said to him after the incident. I didn't even say thank you for saving me again. 

He tried to tell me that he wasn't allowed to and that he was sorry and loved me. The more he talked, the heavier my breathes began to grow and his voice faded away into the back of my mind. My second panic attack in the short time of a week set in, and I had already passed out before he managed to call for a nurse. 

But here I am, waking up for the third time in this hospital room. 

I'm not surprised to see V beside by bed again. This time, however, he's not alone. Eunki and the boys are sitting beside him, some on the floor, some on the edge of my bed. I swear that there's only supposed to be a maximum of three visitors at a time here.

"She's awake!" Eunki is the first to notice. She rushes towards me and hugs me somewhat gently, careful not to hurt my shoulders, and I have the freedom to hug her back with my hands that are no longer tied down. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm okay." 

That was a lie. I can barely feel my leg, and not in a good way either, the sickeningly numb sort of way. Nor can I stand the painful migraine tormenting my head and the great pain in both of my shoulders. 

But the physical pain will never be able to outweigh the sadness weighing down my chest, like an anchor trying to pull me below the surface. I feel like every breath is a burden to my heart, it hurts, like I'm trying to lift the anchor. 

I feel as though his hands are still on me and his lips are still connected to my-

"Violet?" V snaps me out of my cruel daze. I glance towards him and realise everyone is staring at me through worried and sympathetic eyes. "Are you okay? 

"I'm fine." 

Everyone begins talking to me like the whole incident never happened. Do they even know what happened? I hope they don't, I don't want to have to retell the story. 

"I need to go to the bathroom." I announce quietly and try to sit up further. Instantly, a burning sensation spreads through my shoulders like fire meets gasoline. I try to hide my pained expression and sit back against the cushion again instead. 

"I'll go and get a nurse, they'll give you a wheelchair to use." Namjoon says helpfully and I thank him. 

He returns shortly with a wheelchair in his hands. He places it beside the bed before V manages to help me out of it, trying his hardest not to hurt me. It isn't long until I'm in the wheelchair and V is pushing me out of the room and down the corridor. 

All I see in people's eyes as I pass them is sympathy

And I hate it. 

"Here we go." V says quietly as we stop outside of the bathroom. 

I try to stand up but I can't even do that. I feel completely helpless. 

"I'll help you," V tells me and opens the bathroom door, pushing me inside and locking it behind him. "I won't look, don't worry." 

With a great amount of effort I finally manage to push myself off the wheelchair. V stands at the other corner of the room facing the wall, not looking at me. 

When I finish and we're about to leave, I catch sight of the mirror beside the door. I'm horrified by what I see in front of me. 

I don't even look like myself, I look lifeless, empty. But what I'm instantly drawn to are the bruises on my jaw and neck. The anchor tugs harder at my chest and the urge to cry overwhelms me. V didn't make those bruises, Mike did. 

"Don't look at those." V sounds broken. He leans down and drapes his jacket over me, covering most of the purple marks. But I can still see them, I can still feel them. 

"I hate this." I whisper and he crouches beside me, gripping my hands with his trembling ones. 

"It's going to be okay," he mutters quietly and lifts up my arm, gently pressing his lips against my knuckles. "Everything will be okay, Violet." 

"No, V," I shake my head and clamp my eyes shut. "Everything won't be okay. Not this time." 



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