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♰ chapter two ♰
Yoongi's eyes peel open, probably only a minute or two later. By now, though, Principal Yumi is urging paramedics to hurry while Miss Somi holds an ice pack against the kid's hand. Yoongi frowns, blinking in a daze. It takes him a moment to remember what exactly happened.
Jungkook is still in front of him, staring with wide eyes. "Are you okay? I-I tried to shake you awake, but you weren't moving."
Yoongi waves him away, grabbing his backpack off the floor as he stands. "I'm fine."
"Where are you going? Shouldn't you wait a second?" Jungkook asks worriedly. "What if you have a concussion or something?"
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I fainted, that's it."
"Well, you should at least go to the hospital to be sure."
"Yeah. I'll do that," Yoongi says in a mocking voice, sighing as he pushes his chair in. "Now, I've gotta slip out without Sergeant Balding over there seeing anything, because I'm sure protocol for this requires police officers."
"T-then doesn't that mean you'll get in more trouble for leaving?"
"Listen, kid. I don't have time for this. He burned his hand, big deal."
Of course, there wasn't exactly anything around to burn his hand, but Yoongi lets that thought slip away. He doesn't need to focus on something that will probably drive him crazy for not having an actual explanation.
"They'll bandage him up and he'll be fine," Yoongi adds.
Jungkook fiddles with his fingers. "I still don't understand how it happened," he voices everyone's thoughts, his brow furrowed. "What could've—?"
But Yoongi is already leaving, sneaking to the door. It's rather easy to slip by unnoticed with the kid still freaking out, sounding on the verge of death. He's being dramatic, but Yoongi supposes he deserves a few minutes to shine after such trauma.
On the walk home, Yoongi puts his earphones in to stop his thoughts before they run wild. He doesn't want to think about it. It's easier to pretend like nothing happened in the first place.
He fell asleep while tutoring Jungkook. Yeah, that's what happened.
A kid beside him tapping his pen annoyingly? What kid? There hadn't been a kid. Just him catching some z's to fight the boredom.
He repeats all of this to himself, albeit, he can't stifle the nausea churning his stomach.
The porch light is on when he gets home, despite the fact that it's still bright outside from barely being four in the afternoon. His mom's car isn't in the driveway either, which means she probably left it on for herself when she gets home late. He digs through his pocket for his house key, only having to use it in the deadbolt since the handle is loose. His mom bought the wrong size knob six months ago and still hasn't taken it back in exchange for the right one.
