𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐆

十七

Taeyong pov

«[I need your help please.]»
His tone is confident. He probably knows I'm going to say yes for whatever he wants.

«What do you need my help with?»
My tone is hesitant, and i'm sure my voice could probably break at any time.

«[I need you for my wound.]»
His words are firm, sounding like an order.

I panic inside. What if it's an excuse to come over and kill me?

«Can you move your shoulder?»

«[Yes, a bit. But it hurts a lot.]»

«It's normal if it's hurts. Do the edges of the wound are a little purple?»

He keeps his mouth shut for less than a minute before answering.
«[Yes, it's turning purple.]"

«I think that the threads I used was too big, the edges of the wound are probably irritated by it.»

«[I'll be at your place in ten minutes.]»
He finally says and hang up.

I'm so scared of him. How could I say no?
The time passed quickly because when Jaehyun rings the doorbell I still haven't moved of where I was when he called me ten minutes ago. Too deep in my thoughts to move.

When I put my hand on the door's handle, I stay still for plenty seconds, wanting to stop shaking like a tiny bunny.

Jaehyun is here. In front of me.

He has big dark rings under his eyes and his hair is messy, I guess he's struggling for sleeping.

«Come in.»
I say low, opening wide the door for letting him in.

He mumbles a 'thanks' and follow me upstairs.

«We're going to do it in the bathroom this time. It was not easy to clean all the blood you put on the couch last time.»
I say, voice shaky, looking straight into his eyes.
He stays silent and nods.

«Sit on the edge of the bathtub.»
I order him.

He must had suffering very hard to be this calm with me. He doesn't pick on me for my tone.

I open the medicine chest to take what I need and turn to Jaehyun.
«Take off your shirt please.»
And my voice is shaky again. I gulp at the thought of him without his shirt on.
I don't know what's the feeling in my stomach is right now.
Fear?
Disgust?
A mix of all that?

I see him wince in pain when he starts to taking off his shirt by himself.
I come closer and pull the edges of his shirt with him to make it easier for him.
I hang his shirt behind the door, and I take off the band-aid as I open the bottle of disinfectant.

«I'm going to disinfect before changing the threads. I gonna be honest, it's gonna hurt.»
I say before touching him with the sterile pad.

He just whispers an 'Okay' before closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. I guess he dreads the pain.

He lets out a bunch of loud growls as I disinfect the wound.
I feel a twinge of sorrow at his visible suffer.
I hate him. But I'm not the kind of human who likes to have people suffering. Even not their enemies. His growls of pain make me feel so much things. Fear, sadness, and another things I can't even name nor explain.

«Can you tell me some stories or things like that? I want you to be concentrated on something else, it will help you to suffer less.»
I ask to him, wanting him to change his mind for making my work easier.