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"Hey!"

You hear a foreign voice and then suddenly, the deathly grip is gone.


Between blinks and blurred vision (you didn't realize you're tearing up), you see the two males backing off and retreating to the back of the alley.

The back door is now closed.

Has the heiress left?

"Damn it, are you alright?"

A male voice pulls you out from your thoughts.


Your gaze flits to the source.

Do Kyungsoo?


His large doe eyes are widened at their maximum and you feel hands gripping you securely at your sides.

Normally, you'd flinch at any contact with strangers but at this moment, his warmth is oddly comforting and you find yourself giving in to the support.

"Hey, hey..."

There's a hint of panic laced in his voice.


"Come on, talk to me. Are you ok?"

You open your mouth but your throat feels parched and dry, not to mention your cheek is still stinging and head throbbing from the impact against the wall. Worse, you might have twisted your ankle from the fall just now.



"I'm taking you to the hospital."

You feel your weight shifting under sturdy shoulders and the soft fabric of his sweater brushing against your fingers. It reminds you vaguely of some sweet, distant memories.


"I-I'm alright." Your voice comes out sounding like a whimper and you hate yourself for it.

Hate that you are weak and incapable of handling something as trifle as this pain.

Why had you been so careless?

"I don't think I broke anything." You fight to regain some control over your voice.

"We should still get you something to fix you up." He says adamantly, tone sure and strangely soothing. "I've got a first aid kit in the car. And some water."


You don't argue further, using the time to recover from your senses.
 

When the two of you reach his car, a black Hyundai Genesis parked neatly by the roadside, he sits you down carefully in the backseat with your legs hanging out sideways. A faint whiff of lavender permeates your nose.

"Wait here." He instructs and the moment his comforting warmth slips away, you feel your stomach dip from disappointment. But then you hear the glove compartment opening and some clattering before he pops up before you again, a bottle of water and pack of tissues in his hands.
 

"Tell me if it hurts."

He crouches on eye-level with you, wetting the tissues and bringing them up to dab at the corner of your mouth, each move cautious and gentle.



There's the inexplicable tingle when he ventures to the area on your cheek but you bite back the pain, swallowing the metallic taste of your own blood. Luckily, you don't think you lost any teeth.

He replaces the wasted tissues with a new piece and lines it flat out on his palm, moistening and cupping it over your cheek.

"You'll probably need an ice pack, but maybe this will help for the time being."

His words almost a whisper, he lightly presses the wet tissue to the heated area and he's right, it relieves the sting a bit.


It's at this point that you notice the utter devotion in his eyes, brows slightly digging down with concentration and teeth worrying bottom lip. He's extremely handsome, you think. Even more so up close. And the proximity has you thinking it's been a long time since you're in such close contact with the opposite .
 

You tense a bit at that realization and the shift has Kyungsoo asking concernedly, "Hurts?"


"Er... No." You wince inwardly and lower your eyes, afraid to meet his gaze.
 

"It seems whenever I see you, you're in some kind of trouble." He remarks offhandedly.

You look up, feeling indignant and remembering why you dislike the deejay.


"Maybe because the problem isn't lying with me." You huff, pulling away from him and grabbing your bag. "Thank you for your help, but I need to go." Kyungsoo backs away, visibly fuddled by your response.


 

You attempt to stand up but forgetting that your ankle is hurt, you buckle at the knees and Kyungsoo's arms shoot out to steady you.


"You are limping." He frowns.

There's the same look in his eyes again and you are tempted to relent to the fleeting comfort the guy has shown you. But if there's one thing your younger brother has rubbed off on you, it's his stubbornness.

"My friend is just nearby and she'll pick me up, don't worry." You nod and bow politely, making your intent clear.

He opens his mouth to object but your determined expression has him thinking otherwise. Reluctantly, he returns the gesture.



As you try not to hobble down the street, you suddenly remember there's no way of contacting Shinae because you don't have your phone.

.


You turn around and sees the Genesis already rolling out back onto the road.



Sighing, you wait for the car to disappear from sight before hailing a cab, praying that Youngjae is at home.

❖❖❖
 

Your prayers are answered. Youngjae is at home.

After lying about a very bad fall and oh, I merely bumped my cheek, he relays an important piece of news.


"The hospital called again. Doctor Sung told me to reconsider surgery, as the previous laser surgery did little to improve my condition." He kneads the part where your ankle is starting to swell up rather badly.
 

You know what that entails.

His previous two surgeries had consumed a huge amount of whatever meager savings the two of you shared and since he's still on study loan, the input will have to come from you. But you yourself had taken up a sizable loan for the flat and there isn't much spare cash to draw from.
 

"When did he say the surgery can take place?" You ask.


"January or February. He can slot me in then." Youngjae mutters, fingers still working the medicine into your skin.


"Tell him we'll take February."

Youngjae's head snap up in surprise.

"Noona, where will we get the money?" He has always been a realistic child, Youngjae.


"I've got a promotion, and a bonus for the end of the year. The rest, we can take a loan." You hope that you sound convincing enough. Well, at least the bonus part is accurate. The promotion, however, has yet to happen. Not that it will affect your salary much anyway.


"But how can we pay for it when we, no, you, already have so much on your plate?" He reasons.

"I'll borrow from my friends and with the promotion, it'd up my salary by a few hundred bucks. We'll survive. I'll make sure of it." You assure him, mentally formulating how you're going to ask Shinae (yet again) for a loan.


"Are you... sure?" Youngjae looks up hopefully at you.



You can't bear to disappoint.

And you never do.

"Of course."

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