✅Drippin' Love |NCT Jeno FF|

8. Blood and Confusion

Jeno's POV

I was trying my best to run into the boy's toilets but it was pretty hard since Mark had just used my weapon against me. Now, I had a stab in my side. It wasn't that deep but obviously, it hurt. 

I held my side tight as I felt my shirt absorb the warm blood which was now wetting my shirt and hand. 

I ran through the hallways and bashed the door open with my other free hand. I was holding my side tight so that the blood wouldn't drip or leave any tracks, luckily, it didn't. 

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, slowly sliding down onto the floor. I landed on the floor with a thump and heavy breathing. Luckily, no one was in there. 

My chest pumped up and down and I shut my eyes tight trying to endure the stabbing pain of the wound. Breathing heavily made it hurt more so I tried not to breath that hard. 

'It's fine Jeno, it's just your side, the rest of your body is fine...'

I found out when I was younger that, if you ever hurt yourself, think about the rest of your body feeling physically fine and it takes your mind off of the pain a bit. 

I tried to distract myself from the pain but the only thing I could think of was had just happened with Mark and what I had just done. 

'what will things go like now? Will Mark tell the others? What will he tell the others? What will happen to me and my stuff, will I move out of the dream dorm?'

All these problems which had occurred in just one morning and all because of some silly girl. What was so special about Y/N? 

What was so special about her that I actually talked to her? and who was I to her? Obviously, I knew she hated me but when I thought about it more, was that really all? Did she really just hate me? 

She never spoke to anyone but me.

Some time passed of me sitting in that toilet alone in pain, slowly bleeding. 

I was tired and could sleep at any time. 

My head leaned back and my eyes closed. I was neutral. Although the pain from the stab didn't go away, I had gotten used to it hurting. 

When I had reached a nice relaxing mood and had calmed down a bit, I decided to get up. I tried to get up but it was difficult. I had stopped bleeding extremely so I guess it was fine to go now. 

I stumbled back onto my feet and held the doorknob. I hesitated going back outside but I couldn't be in here all day. I remembered that I have spare clothes in my locker but what if someone had seen me? 

My side was bleeding and I was a sweaty mess. 

I peeked outside and was welcomed by an empty hallway. I sighed in relief and ran over to my locker which was, luckily, down the hall. 

I had faced some trouble with trying to get my extra clothes with just one hand but I did it eventually. I ran back into the toilet to change and clean myself. The thing was,

how was I going to deal with this painful wound. 

I took one of my arms out of my shirt and slowly my head. I did it all with my left hand since my right hand was glued to my waist with my bloody shirt in between. My whole shirt was now off except the part that was covering my wound. 

It was a white shirt but now it was dark red.

Slowly, I took the fabric off of my wound with my eyes closed trying to endure any pain that might come to me.