So to be honest, I still don't know which course to take for this story - a sequel or Sojin's perspective. On top of that, I've still got an ongoing story (which I'm having a hard time updating because of work) and a pending sequel for another story (I only got a few chapters finished, but not enough foundation for me to begin publishing). Seriously, I'm in a bit of a pinch...

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy another bonus from me. Good day (:

PS: In case you're wondering, this bonus is something I expounded from Chapter 4 of Luhan's perspective in the original story.

Luhan's eyes grow large as saucers before they break into a scowl. He seems to find it difficult to concentrate on my hand, his gaze constantly shifting between me and the shattered mess by the window.

I feel the pain only half a minute later. Warm liquid trickles down in crimson streaks across the back of my hand as two long gashes grin atop my knuckles. The blood's trajectory ends in thick puddles on my armrest and across the tiled floor.

Despite the throbbing pain, I can't seem to will myself to act, to stop the bleeding, to tend to the cuts. I attempt to ball my fist but release my fingers instantly. Apparently, it only encourages more blood to flow.

"Are you kidding me?" Luhan bellows, though I'm pretty sure I heard him curse under his breath before raising his voice.

I look at him beside me but he is already on both feet. His knee collides with the edge of his desk – from the way it sounded, it must have hurt – but he ignores the pang. I can only watch as he searches the room for our teacher, mutters another curse when he doesn't find her, and calls finally for the class secretary.

"The infirmary," he begins but stops himself with a shake of his head. "Forget it, just go to the PMD and report the breakage. I'll bring her down myself."

A shaken but obedient class secretary scurries out the door.

"You shouldn't scare her like that."

Luhan whips around. "What?"

"You, uh," I gesture at Sika’s – our class secretary’s name if I’m not mistaken – wake, "scared her or something."

"I..." He looks too angry to even comprehend my words. And then, with a quick glimpse of my hand, he remembers my predicament and hauls me up from sitting. He grabs my right unharmed hand and drags me out into the corridor.

The act was rough and it hurt, but I follow him out of the classroom anyway, my left hand still dripping and quickly losing color.

Luhan is muttering a string of expletives the entire time. A few, I believe, are profane, but most are just strong expressions of agitation. I can’t really blame him. He’s losing precious time finishing his wolves’ canvas for Arts Class just to accompany me to the infirmary. On some other occasion, I would have insisted he return to class and walk myself the rest of the way.

Not today.

I’ve been on constant edge since that bastard showed up at the school’s entrance a w