❞kiss me...❝
in which breaking into the royal mint is only the second worst thing to happen to kyoto,...which really says enough about her.
❞...it's okay if it hurts.❝
↳ min yoongi
↳ romance + drama + action
↳ money heist! au
↳...
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comfort crowd | conan gray
❞this hurt that I'm holding 's getting heavy❝
⋆⋆⋆
HAKKUN SIGHED.
He turned his phone on, meet with the picture of him and her as his lock screen, no new messages, the only thing written over their faces was the time.
5:37 am, which meant she was already about 6 hours too late.
He hated her for being so late and for being so reckless and for doing absolutely anything for them to afford to buy food. More so, though he hated himself for being worried and being unable to sleep without knowing she's back or rather knowing she's alive.
Suddenly, he heard the rustling of keys outside the apartment and the door opened with a swing.
There she stood, her clothes muddy and wet from god knows what she was doing. There was blood leaking out of her black shirt, which he almost wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way her hand was trying to cover it from him.
There was a small cut on her lower lip, but most noticeable was the wound by her right temple, which was why her right eye was pinched together and bloodshot, it looked like someone had smashed her head against the asphalt and dragged her across it.
Hakkun winced in his head at the thought of that. Normally when she came home this late, he'd smack her across the face and scold her, but the look in her eyes was so ice-cold that he didn't even dare to make a sound.
As she slowly approached him, laying down the 9mm on the kitchen counter in the process.
When she was standing in front of him, he was even more intimidated, looking down at him with her unreadable expression.
"It's late. You shouldn't be up," she spoke, her voice horse and barely above a whisper, her throat must have hurt and by the blue bruises around her neck, he could guess why.
"What did you do?" Hakkun asked, his voice trembling.
"I did what I had to do."
J pushed past him into their small bathroom, but he followed after her.
While she leaned against the bathtub, he cleaned the wounds on her legs and he was glad she was too tired and exhausted to protest his help.
It was silent, besides the occasional hiss and groan of disapproval from her until Hakkun decided to speak up as he started to stitch the wound on her stomach.
"She sent me another postcard."
J hummed a second before whispering, "Where's she off to now?"
