Habitual Healing [Soonhoon]

Healing 30

"Jihoon, do you know what you did?" 

With trembling hands, he wiped off his own stained hands with a cloth given from the officials. He took heavy breaths as he tried to calm down the nerves pulsing his bones, however he only stared down at his pale hands that turned red. He wished he dropped a bucket of paint, but the truth is told as evident by his hands. His bloody hands. 

This seems to be deja vu, but they seem to know what his name is, now. 

Looking up, he shook his head as his mind is fuzzy. Bottled up emotions gradually piling up, he wanted to break down sobbing however he only stared at his own hands in utter shock. No words could leave pass his trembling lips, and he couldn't think of what to say. He wanted to apologize but he doesn't know if it is the correct thing to say. The woman tilted her head, and he wished he only face him, instead of this woman.

A woman that reminds Jihoon of him. 

"Can you explain to me what had happened a hour before?" asked the woman, her voice sounding blunt. Almost robotic, and Jihoon wants to tear his hair out of his own head. He doesn't fucking know. "I-I don't know... I don't fucking know!" he screams, his face suddenly buried in his hands as his grip loosened on the cloth. The dried blood didn't stain his paper skin, but he could smell the metallic scent from the stain. It made his own stomach churn. 

She only looked down, her hand writing upon the paper that clipped on her board and Jihoon wanted to take it and throw it across the room. How dare they write in front of him. 

He isn't a animal to fucking document. 

"Soonyoung is currently in the hospital with Mr. Jeon Daeshim. Do you remember him?" questioned the female and Jihoon stared back in bewilderment. He remembers Soonyoung. Vividly, he remembers the raven-head and images flashed in his mind, remembering his last expression before he was pulled away by arms. Taken away from his own hope, he felt sick to the stomach as his fingers gripped onto his strands of blonde hair. 

Partially, he remembered what happened an hour ago. Did it happen an hour ago? 

"S-Soonyoung..." he whispered, shutting his eyes close as he tried to shake away the image of his own lover looking frightened. A betrayal overwhelming him, and his own tensed shoulders slumped in defeat as tears welled up under his own eyelids. "H-He is scared of me," he said barely above a whisper and she only looked down at her written page. "Do you remember Mr. Jeon?" she asks another question, and he wanted to stab her in the fucking throat with her pen. 

'I don't fucking care about your questions. 

Bring me back Soonyoung.

Bring him back.'

He wishes to say but he felt this tightness around his neck, his throat suddenly clogged and his own tensed body started to shake, once again. "I don't give a shit about him," he barely spat out in anger as he looked up and she stared back. A blank stare maintaining her own staring contest between the blonde, eyes holds a flaming resentment. "To sum it up, you are here because of attempting to commit a murder." she said in a blunt tone, and he felt his own hands curl into tight fists. 

'Can she fucking shut up? 

I should shut her up.'

The voices started to overcame his own hearing and Jihoon stood, instantly the same people entered the room and roughly grabbed Jihoon by the arms. "You fucking shut the fuck up!" he screams, his own anger blinding all his senses and he didn't see the fear filling her vacant eyes. "You stupid fucking whore, where is Soonyoung?!" he yells as he thrashed in their grasps, an urge to bash her fucking skull against the nearest wall.