“Seul!” Seunghyun called out into the house, “Oppa is home!”

Choi Seul had been in her room, diligently doing her homework as she awaited her brother’s return. The house was always way too quiet without Seunghyun in it. Even if he wasn’t loud, she just liked knowing he was somewhere in there with her. At the sound of his voice, she instinctively dropped everything she was doing and rushed out to greet him.

“Oh, oppa you’re ba—”

Her eyes widen as she sees who is standing behind him. Kwon Jiyong. Seul was class president which gave her many responsibilities at school. One of which was making sure that the kids stayed in relative order. This was made harder by the group of delinquents who vehemently refused to listen to anything she had to say. Amongst them, the worse of all was Kwon Jiyong. He didn’t obey any rules, having his own set to follow, which irritated her to no end. He smirked at her to which she immediately frowned.

“Why’d you bring him here?” she asked, feeling apprehensive.

Seunghyun motions to the boy’s arm. “He got badly cut in a fight. Can you clean him up?”

Her eyes travel down to the gash across Jiyong’s forearm and she feels a bit faint. She hates blood. Can’t deal with it at all. But despite this she says, “Fine.”

Seunghyun gives her a quick smile before retreating to his room. It’s just Seul and Jiyong now. She guides him over to the kitchen and sits him down on a chair before leaving to find the first aid kit. He took this time to observe the place. It was rather big for a rooftop house. 
Usually they were just one tiny room with everything crammed into one area. This one however seemed to have the same layout as a small apartment. The contrast in the shade of color of the walls and the ceiling indicated that it had been renovated to become this way. It wasn’t new but it was well kept so it didn’t give off an old feel.  

Seul returned shortly with the first aid kit. “Give me your arm.”

He complies and places it on the table. She takes a deep breath before taking out a few cotton balls and some rubbing alcohol. As she comes close to placing it on his wound, Jiyong pulls back. “Forget it. Just wrap it up.”

“Just stay still,” she says, trying again.

“I don’t need it!”

“Aish!” she’s irritated now, “You can fight people on the streets but you can’t sit through a little bit of rubbing alcohol?”

“I don’t usually lose fights, though,” he motions to the cotton balls, “That will surely hurt me.”

“If you don’t clean it up, it could get infected. Then all that bacteria will go into your bloodstream and kill you. Or they’ll cut your arm off.”

He sighed. “You’re being overdramatic.”

She rolls her eyes, offering him her hand. “Here. If it stings, just squeeze my hand.”

He hesitates, but takes it. It’s small and warm in his own. She signals that she’s about to start and places the cotton balls on his cut. He winces in pain and immediately squeezes her hand. Her face shows no pain. He is a little surprised. He’s always thought himself really strong.

“Big baby,” she mumbled as she moved to get the gauze out of the first aid kit.

“Thank you,” he mumbles back.

“What’s the point of getting into all of these fights?” she asks but doesn’t really expect him to answer, “All you’re doing is getting yourself into trouble and hurting your body. And what do you guys even fight about? I mean, I doubt there is anything bad enough for you to be going at it like every other day. You could be doing so many better things with your time instead of beating up people, you know? You’re only 18. You’ve got a whole world of possibilities but instead you decide to get mixed up with punks on the street. But hey, it’s your life not mine.”

He watches her as she continues, a faint smile playing on his lips. He’d never once spoken to Choi Seul in length. She was just that girl, pretty enough to turn several heads, who disturbed him whenever he attempted to cut class. But now maybe he was starting to regret that. Choi Seul is really something else.