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Special {7}

        When the door audibly creaks open, Taehyung realizes he had fallen asleep over the blankets and swiftly sits up, eager to welcome his girlfriend in his arms. The girl doesn't head directly to him though. She went to their cabinet, grabs a handful of clothes from within, and pads back to the door. Taehyung glances quickly at the alarm clock on their bed table to find the short hand pointing at three.

        "Hun?"

        Jeongyeon turns, a little surprised that he is awake. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

        "No." Taehyung stands up and envelopes her in a hug. Jeongyeon smelled of cigarettes and sweat, a hint of iron too. When she exhales through her mouth, he smells more cigarette and strong coffee, probably bitter just how she likes it. It's not wholly pleasant, but Taehyung doesn't mind. He's used to it.

        She returns the embrace, a feeble one in contrast to his sinewy hug. "Go back to sleep. I'll be with you in a few—"

        "No," he interrupts. "Let's get you cleaned up."

        "But Tae—"

        "The sooner we finish, the better."

        The girl sighs on to his collar, but it wasn't out of annoyance or defeat. More like a cue that they've reached a settlement. The couple ushers into the bathroom, the air a little cold, and Jeongyeon winces as she takes off her clothes. Her right shoulder aches as she stretches her shirt off of her body. Taehyung takes a glance and sees her grimace. There's a faint bruise on the aching limb, and as his eyes drift down, he could see month-old scars beneath her right breast, a gruesome slash on her tummy that had faded into a nasty scar, and the cigarette burns located below her navel; burns that her former boss gave her when he was still kicking and alive.

        "Did you get injured?" Taehyung asks as he opens the tap. He had already prepared hot water earlier, anticipating her arrival.

        "Nah. Just got distracted. Almost broke my arm."

        "Distracted?

        Jeongyeon hums, but doesn't elaborate. He thinks she's too tired to talk about it so he lets the subject go. Once the tub is filled, she steps into it and soaks herself in silence, knees up to her chest and chin on the surface. After Taehyung hands her a face towel already downed in apple-scented body wash, she gently scrubs her skin, face dead of any emotion. She looks on the verge of passing out, so Taehyung grabs the bottle of conditioner and squirts a liberate amount of it on his palm. He distributes the substance across her scalp and massages it with diligence and care, thinking of the scalp massage she gave him weeks ago when he finished his mission, when the shower washed off dirt and blood and whatever filth he had after blowing someone's head off. She finds herself letting out an airy moan as she leans back to his hands, his fingertips pressing on the right places. It was equivalent to a lullaby for her, a soothing one that lulled her into a hazy state.

        "Tae?"

        "Yeah?"

         "You don't have to wait for me all the time," she says.

        "I know. I just like to see you come home and settle beside me."

        She blinks wearily. "Can you finish quickly, please?"

        Taehyung doesn't smile, but he feels grateful. She rarely pleads to him, or anyone as far as he knows. It's just how she is, and he doesn't have a problem with it. So he hums and starts to rinse her head. She's pliant, acts like a baby under the hazy fog in the bathroom while they drain the bathtub of water, but she stands up with ease and dries herself on her own. Taehyung leaves her clothes on the dry sink.