PRISONERS [Taekook]

스물

I am so in deep shit for my studies.
here goes this chapter tho.
it's shitty please forgive me I promise I'll do better for the next ones. I am just so tired, I knew med school in France was hard but I had no idea it was this hard. I'm sorry I can't update that much, and when I do it's terrible. I'm doing my best, I promise. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyways. ❤️

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Yoongi stares at his palm and there's blood. It's trickling out of it, slowly but too fast for his liking, there's too much blood and it's making him feel dizzy.

Today, he's supposed to clean up the room where the cooking activities happen, and that includes the numerous plates the clumsier - or angrier - prisoners tend to break. He curses himself for being so stupid, he somehow managed to cut himself while doing his usual chores. He should've known it wasn't a good idea to carry those broken plates all at once, but blame his lazy fucking ass for not wanting to make a second trip to get the rest of them. So now he's alone in the cooking atelier, hand bleeding after he tripped and let the already broken plates shatter to even tinier pieces on the floor, and he's freaking out.

He can't go to the infirmary, he doesn't exactly want to risk getting poisoned, although he usually stays out of trouble, you never know. He might've upset someone by grabbing the last piece of a meal they wanted once, or by accidentally looking at them too long. Rich people are fucking crazy, he knows it, they'll hold a grudge over anything because they're just so goddamn bored in here.

He doesn't want to speak to Seokjin, he doesn't trust him. But he also would rather not get an infection, that would be a pain in the ass.

He winces when he tries to gather the shards still scattered on the floor with his good hand, feeling them prickle at his skin. He gives up, deciding that it would be absolutely stupid to risk cutting his other hand. So he gets up, making his way towards the exit, when a figure suddenly rushes into the room.

"What happened here?" Hoseok asks, seeming alarmed by the noise.

The brunet's eyes widen when they land on the older man, hunched over and so very small, with his pale skin and pink lips and pretty everything. However, he notices something contrasting heavily with the pallor of his skin. He sees crimson, dark and overly present on the palm of his hand, and it has Hoseok's jaw falling open in panic.

"It's fine." Yoongi dismisses before Hoseok can even speak. "I'll just go to the infirmary or something."

"No, god no!" Hoseok exclaims, hurrying towards the man who stares up at him in confusion. He carefully grabs his arm and takes him out of the room, Yoongi following instinctively. "I'll take you to Jimin. He always has a first aid kit in his office."

"Hoseok, I don't-"

"Just shut up and follow me." He interrupts him.

Yoongi blinks. "I-"

"Shhh."

Before Yoongi can protest again, Hoseok's knocking hard at Jimin's office door. It swings open almost instantly, the black-haired counselor emerging from the office.

"What's the matter?" He asks, startled.

"Nothing, doctor Park, I just-"