Bulletproof - A BTS Mafia AU

Chapter Seven

Yoongi came down the stairs and threw himself onto the couch. I watched in awe as he shook his hair, water going everywhere.

I covered my sketch book to protect it from getting wet.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked, his voice cold.

"Your hair is blonde," I said.

"Yeah and?"

"It looks good."

Yoongi got up and walked over to me. He placed his hands on either side of my chair and looked at me.

He cocked his head to the side and brought his face closer to mine. My breath became heavier as he came closer.

"Where did you get the art supplies?" He took my sketch book and sat down on the couch, flipping through it.

"Jimin. He brought them over a few days ago," I reached over to put down the purple oil I was holding, down in the case.

"These are good," his eyes caught mine for a second, "you should put one into Jins art gallery."

"Jin has an art gallery?"

"Yeah. He has a lot of art from famous artists. I'm sure he'd love to put one of yours in," yoongi handed me back the sketch book.

I looked down at my drawing of Yoongi shirtless with his scars.

"How is your wound?" I set down the sketch book and looked over at him. He had laid down and closed his eyes.

"Fine."

"Jimin said I should change the bandage every two days so it doesn't get infected," I stood up and walked towards the bathroom. Yoongi followed me slowly.

"What about you?" He asked as we entered the bathroom, still damp from my shower.

"I'm ok. The pills are helping with my headaches. The shot helped too," I pulled the first aid kit down and set it on the counter. I turned around and Yoongi was shirtless.

"What did the shot do?" Yoongi asked. I locked eyes with him again. His eyes were soft. The same look he gave me the night he was bleeding out on the floor. 

 I looked away and started to undo his blood-stained bandage.

"It was anesthetic injections. Its supposed to keep the pain from going to the nerves."

Yoongi nodded and looked up at his wound in the mirror. He watched as it got covered up by the bandage. When I finished he pulled his shirt back on.

"Thanks. Now turn around," Yoongi made me face him and he reached for my shirt.

"What are you doing?" He pushed me against the counter gently and pulled up my shirt. He kept his eyes on me for a minute before he looked under my black sports bra.

"You should put ice on it. That's supposed to help too. Come on," Yoongi let go of my shirt and left the bathroom.

I sat on the stool in the kitchen and watched him grab an ice pack. He tossed it at me and closed the freezer.

"I need to go meet with Namjoon and Jungkook. I'll be gone for a few hours."

"Wait, you can't do anything in your state. You'll get hurt again.rip open your stitches."

Yoongi rolled his eyes, "please, I've been doing this way before you were even born."

"You're four years older then me," I said quietly.

"My father had me doing things a three-year-old should not be doing," he said, his eyes dark as he watched me.

"I can handle being out like this. I've had worse," Yoongi lifted his shirt and pointed to a large scar going from his shoulder across his chest to his belly button. He let his shirt fall back in place, covering the scar, grabbed his car keys and left through the front door.