WARNING: FREQUENT MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AHEAD!

Clutching his side and wincing his cheek, Sehun slowly came out of the elevator. He hadn’t noticed me standing there, instead he seemed to be focusing on the ground by his feet. There was a gash above his eyebrow that had a lot of dried blood surrounding it, several lines of which had trickled and dried down the side of his face. His nose was in a similar state, and his cheek was very badly grazed and might even be swelling already. A small cut had also dented the corner of his lip, but that looked like it had been caused by him biting it too hard rather than anything else.

As I took in his face, I must have let out a little gasp or some other noise because Sehun’s eyes suddenly flashed fearfully up like a deer in headlights. It was very clear from his startled expression that he had not been expecting to see me there, but I’m sure mine was just as shocked. He really looked awful.

I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, so I just stood there trembling. Sehun seemed to notice this because he his lip inside his mouth slowly and looked away.

“Go home, Mira,” he told me in a hoarse voice. It sounded like he had strained his vocal cords.

Not shifting myself, I waited for him to move again. His eyes finally flicked back to mine; they looked almost unsure.

“You should go home,” he repeated in the same rasped voice.

Wordlessly, I shook my head.

He let out what would have been a sigh if not for his strained voice, and slowly moved towards his door again. Although he now looked like he was trying to walk as normally as possible, his hand ghosted around the side he had been clutching before he noticed me.

Straining into his pocket when he got to the door, he pulled out his keys and fumbled for the right one. His right hand had blood on it as well, and several cuts were laced upon it. I had been here often enough to know which key it was so helped him separate that one out from the rest. Not a word was passed between us as I did this. Finally opening his door, Sehun’s eyes glanced to me uncomfortably as if he didn’t know what I was going to do.

“C-can I come in?”

Although he looked a little distressed by my question, he gave a nod and led the way in. I mumbled a thanks as I closed the door behind us.

In silence, we stood there. Sehun was still wearing his jacket, and I was still perched on the edge of the threshold uncomfortably. We stood there like that for what seemed like hours until Sehun’s croaky voice broke the almost hollow feeling the apartment had.

“I’m ok.”

I fought back a scoff. There was no way he was ok. “I don’t believe you.” My voice came out frail and sounded like it was on the edge of tears. Maybe I was.

Sehun seemed to notice it as well because he turned his face to the side. “It just looks bad. It’s ok.”

I swallowed hard. “How is that ok?”

He made no attempt to remove his jacket, just stood there with his back to me. This time he didn’t speak.

“What happened?” I finally asked him, my voice barely audible despite the quiet.

Slowly shaking his head, he replied, voice sounding a little more human now, “Nothing. You should go. It’s probably late now.”

I hadn’t realised until now but he was trembling slightly, just as I was. His shoulders would tremor and his injured hand would twitch occasionally. I took a step towards him, then another.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” He didn’t say anything so I took another step towards him. I was now standing right behind him. There was a mark on his left ear as well. “Do you want to go to the hospital?” I asked again, this time a little louder.

He turned, clearly not expecting me to be so close because he instantly drew his face away from me, looking away rather unhappily.

“Just go home, Mira. I’ll fix it.”

“Let me help y-”

“Just go!” he snapped suddenly, turning away completely.

I was a little surprised by his outburst, but I really didn't want to leave him. He was just within reach, so I cautiously stretched out my hand and lightly brushed his arm. Although he didn’t flinch, he didn’t look too comfortable to have it there either.

“Can I help you clean it?” I asked quietly.

For a moment he didn’t say anything, then he let out another shaky sigh. “Can’t you go, please?” his voice sounded like it was about to crack.

I hesitated, brow puckered. “Are you going to clean it properly?” I asked quietly.

He meekly nodded. “I always do.”

There, once again, he made it sound like this was something he was used to, that he’d come to accept. And I thought that was disgusting.

“Sehun.” It came out like a pathetic whimper. “What happened? Why did they do this to-” my voice cracked before I could finish.

Turning back towards me slowly, Sehun had obviously heard it as well. He carefully took the step back towards me and peered down at me with concern like it had been me that had just turned up with my face half-beaten.

“Shh,” he soothed me quietly as his arm wrapped around my shoulder to pull me to his chest. “It’s ok, Mira. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

I profusely shook my head against his chest. “No it’s not! How can you say it is when your face looks like that and your voice sounds like it’s been attacked with sandpaper?”

He hushed me again, now gently rocking me from side to side. “I’m fine.”

This time I drew back, forcing my way out of his grip. “You’re not. This isn’t fine,” I motioned to his face. “And it certainly isn’t normal either.”

We stared at one another for a moment before he dropped his gaze, once again stepping towards me. “I’m fine, really. Why don’t you go home?”

I couldn’t tell whether he just wanted me to leave, or if he was worried that he was upsetting me by looking like this, but either way I gave a little shake of my head. “Let me help you.”

“No, it’s really f-”

“Please,” I said more firmly. “Please let me help you.”

Although very begrudgingly, he seemed like he wasn’t going to protest anymore. But whilst he didn’t tell me to leave, he didn’t accept my help either.

“Where's your first aid kit?”

"I don't have one."

This was a lie. He must have had one, otherwise how would he have bandaged up my head the time I was attacked and he had treated me?

"Just tell me where it is."

He hesitated. “In the bathroom cupboard.”

Running my hands through my hair, I tried to calm myself as I walked to his bathroom. I couldn’t believe this had just happened and that Sehun was standing in the front room with a face that looked like he had been in a brutal gang fight when in reality he had just visited his family. The first aid kit wasn’t hard to find, so I grabbed it and hurried back.

Sehun had stripped out of his jacket and moved himself into the kitchen, he was standing facing the sink when I entered.

“Take a seat,” I told him in a slightly shaky breath.

There wasn’t actually a seat close by since his table wasn’t in the kitchen, but I expected him to go through to it. Instead he lifted himself onto the kitchen worktop with a groan. I didn’t ask him to move again though despite the height not exactly being ideal for treating him. As I walked over, I took a good look at the marks on his face again. He had his eyes firmly fixed on the floor but I tried not to pay any attention to how uncomfortable he looked.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

He nodded solemnly.

Looking at the marks on his face, I guessed that none of them would scar and probably didn’t need stitches but I still would have felt better if he had agreed to go.

“I’m going to clean the blood off first,” I told him once I finished reading the instructions on the back of a sterile cloth packet. I wet the sterile cloth with warm water as instructed. “It shouldn’t sting, but it might.”

There was more blood to come off than I had thought, and it took several cloths before most of it was off. His eyebrow had become completelyclumped with this stuff and it took a considerable amount of time before it was recognisable as an eyebrow again. But once it was off, he looked a lot better. The whole time I cleaned neither of us said a word.

“The blood made it look a lot worse,” I murmured as I appraised the clean wounds. His eyes seemed to move between my face and the floor intermittently now.

“It’s going to bruise,” I told him as I brushed my finger gently along his cheekbone, careful not to touch the actual wound. “Probably badly. Do you have frozen peas in?”

He shook his head. I didn’t want to just leave his cheek un-iced because it would probably be very painful tomorrow if he didn't put something on it.

“Want me to get some?” I asked, hoping there was a store nearby that was still open and selling frozen vegetables. I looked at to eyes and saw he was staring at me now. Turning to go, I shot him a reassuring smile. 

“Stay,” he quietly murmured, still staring at me.

“I won’t be long. It’s just to-”

“Stay,” he repeated, this time stretching for my hand with great effort. I helped him out my moving it into his grasp. When he had it, he gently tugged me back to him so that my hips were pressed firmly against his knees. He ran circles onto the back of my hand with his cold fingertips for a moment before looking up at me.

“It’s . . . better having you here.”

It was hard to see him like this: not only injured, but also incredibly vulnerable. It was hard to believe that someone as seemingly strong and haughty as Sehun could ever feel small or hurt. But of course he could: he was human, after all. I wanted nothing more than to tell him everything was fine and that I could protect him, but I didn’t even know how to do that. And empty words were something that I was trying to avoid now.

“If you don’t want me to go, I don’t have to.”

He timidly nodded in agreement.

Gently and slowly, I pulled my hand back and he reluctantly let it go. “I’m going to dress your cuts now.”

As I tended the injury on his eyebrow, I noticed him wincing several times but tried to ignore it and power through. I had once been told that it was better to just rip the band aid off than to do it tepidly, and that saying seemed particularly apt here.

It was only when Sehun stretched a hand up to brush a strand of my hair that had fallen from my bun away from my face that I noticed he was staring at me again – intently. I tried to pretend he wasn’t but as I moved on to his cheek, it was a struggle to focus with those eyes pouring into mine at such close proximity.

“Your cheek is probably the worst,” I told him as I stared at it. He said nothing but continued to watch me as I applied some ointment to a cloth. As I dabbed the cut, I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused it.

“How did you get this?” I asked as he once again winced at the sting.

“I don’t know. Maybe a fist.”

“Whose fist?”

His lips twitched like he wasn’t sure if he was going to tell. “My father’s.”

My dislike for the man suddenly grew exponentially.

“Why did he do this?” Although I hadn’t meant it to sound so frail, it did.

Sehun slowly shrugged. “Same reason as always. I wasn’t behaving like the good little boy he wants me to be.” I couldn’t think of any justifiable reason for a parent to hit their child.

“Did you two fight?”

“We always fight,” he replied with a humourless smile.

“More than normal though?”

He said nothing for a moment. “Maybe.”

Picking up a band aid, I attached it to the cut on his eyebrow as carefully as I could. “What was it about?”

He watched me as I fumbled with removing the back of the larger padded band aid destined for his cheek. “He was angry because of something I said . . . about you.”

“About me?” I asked, surprised. Sehun took the band aid with a nod when he saw I was struggling with it and effortlessly removed the back before handing it back to me. “Why me?” I felt a sudden rush of guilt.

Leaning his cheek out to me, Sehun waited until after I stuck it on before speaking again. “I just told him something that he didn’t like. Don’t worry about it.”

Too late.

Was Sehun looking this way because of me? I felt my throat become tighter as I looked at his patched-up face. My hands landed on his knees and my eyes swiftly followed.

“Look up,” he whispered to me quietly.

I shook my head, hands trembling a little. I was afraid that I would just burst out crying if I saw his face again. Running one hand onto mine and using the bandaged one to brush against my cheek, Sehun whispered my name in a way that sent a tingle down my spine.

Finally forcing myself to look up again, I found that my eyes had glazed over a little. Sehun stared at my face for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“You’re not to blame for this. For any of this.” His hand ran more circles on my hands as he spoke.

“But if I didn’t meet you, this wouldn’t have happened.” My voice was barely audible.

Sehun disagreed with a little shake of his head. “It would still have happened. It would have just been about something else.”

I let out a shaky breath as I tried to control the emotion that was b within me. Freeing my hands from his, I slowly – very slowly – ran them up his arms and then back down again. There was a surprising amount of lean muscle there. He watched my hands closely as they did this.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” I managed in a shaky breath, so glad that he was here in front of me.

He soothed me quietly. “Of course I’m ok.”

I felt so protective over him then; so angry at those who had done this to him; and so guilty that I might have been the cause. I didn’t want to let him out of my sights again. I wanted to always be watching him; always seeing him being out of harm’s way. It seemed like an irrational thought, and yet it more sense to me than most other things in the world at that moment. Sehun was so unlike anyone else in the world to me, and that made him especially important. I didn’t know what I would be prepared to give up to protect him, but I guessed it was a whole lot more than I’d care to admit.

People kept saying the word ‘love’ to me, and they kept using it with Sehun’s name. The dictionary had told me love was: ‘To like another adult very much and be romantically and ually attracted to them.'[1]   Science told me love was: ‘A mechanism created by hormones in order to promote mutual defence and parental support of children and to promote feelings of safety and security.’[2]

Well