EGOIST (Sang Woo x Fem!OC) [COMPLETED]

44

Hae Young wasn't used to waking up in comfort anymore. What she thought was piles and piles of sheets over her kept her nice and warm, basking in the ambient glow of the candelabra in the room. It was homey and warm, until it wasn't. Waking up out of her post haze, she reminds herself of who and where she was. She jolts up, alert and awake, pointing her knife out. Sang-Woo rushes to her side trying to calm her down. "It's okay." He tells her. And she does calm down, finally putting the steak knife down. She looked over at the foot of the bed. Sae-byeok was sitting on the floor leaning against the frame sound asleep.

"We took shifts." Sang-Woo tells her, helping her up to lean against the bed frame. Her gaze looks over to Deok-su who was barely awake at this point, though his iron grip remained on his steak knife.

"What about you?" She asks him.

"I'm fine now." Sang-Woo tells her. It was Sae-byeok's turn to rest.

"How long was I out for?"

Sang-Woo ignored the question, placing his hand on her neck, then her forehead, then her cheeks.

"You're less warm." He says. "How are you feeling now?"

She didn't know what to say, not with his warm hands still on her cheeks. She just nods softly. He stifles a sigh of relief, finally letting go though she wished he had held her for a little longer. It was the warmth that she didn't know she craved, when the room had suddenly become so cold and empty.

"How's your leg?"

Hae Young moves her injured leg a bit, wincing at the sharp pain. Sang-Woo gently unwraps her from the layers of coats and bed sheets, unveiling her wound that bled through the bandage and trousers. They both grimaced at the sight.

"We need to bind it again." He tells her reluctantly. "It probably loosened when you moved."

She just nods. Anything to stop it from getting worse.

Her upper thighs were covered over by a blanket, exposing the bare, bandaged, leg. There was so much blood, on her skin, on the cloth that was meant to be tightly bound around her thighs. Sang-Woo carefully unravels it, exposing the bloodied cut that hid within. Hae Young almost gagged at the sight. It looked more morbid than she remembers.

When he felt around the cut, she could feel the pressure of his touches, adding to the quick sharp pains she felt. It was deeper than what she expected when Sang-Woo wiped the excess blood off with a dry cloth. It was not a great feeling.

"Jesus..." He mutters, taking the blanket he used and biting on the clean edge. With as much force as he can, he rips it into thin strips of cloth, long enough to be wrapped around her thighs. When he wrapped it around her wound, it was tighter and more secure, though there was a lot more pressure pressing onto her wound. The pain was tolerable, she could move her leg a little bit better now.

"Here." Sang-Woo hands her back her trousers. He turns the other way to let her change. She scoffs at the gesture.

"Like that's even necessary." She mutters, carefully putting her trousers back on with as much caution and care. And when she finally did, she was back on the bed, sitting up right. Then, there was just silence.

"You can look now." She finally tells him. Sang-Woo turns around with caution, finally seeing her dressed.

"Thank you." She tells him. "For taking care of me even if you didn't have to."

"I had to." He tells her, though she couldn't quite understand what he meant. In his case, it was better if she didn't.

He couldn't not want to. It was almost as if keeping her alive was a need. And maybe in this case, when she was all he had left, he would do everything to keep it that way. They were both silent, the whole room except for the subtle shifting of Deok-su in his bed, or the echoing sounds of the room, empty, waiting for the inevitable truth that was stuck in Sang-Woo's throat. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, he sits by the foot of the bed across from Hae Young. They look at each other face-to-face. This was the beginning of an end, and if anyone had anything to say, it must be said.

"I need to keep you alive." He finally tells her. Hae Young doesn't say anything else, politely waiting for him to finish his thoughts. She puts one of her legs up on the bed. "And the kid." He adds.

"I don't want to plot anything, I don't plan on murdering anyone. I just want to survive and get out of here. I'm tired." He says. "I'm exhausted, and I want to go home." His voice cracks at the thought of mother, his home, her, and the numerous things waiting in the outside world. He misses the train rides, the tteokbokki in the street market, and every little thing, good and bad that made the world as it is.

When he gets out, he tells her, he will tell his mom everything. His debts, the collateral he had brought unwillingly upon her, his efforts in making quick money that inevitably failed. He'll take whatever awaits him once he gets out.

They'll split the money just as he had calculated, more than 11 billion won for each player, and that would be enough. It would be more than enough. He could pay his debts, get himself a good lawyer, and maybe, if he gets out of that situation, "I'll take you to Jeju." He tells her.

She pauses, breath stuck in her throat. What did it mean?

Sang-Woo reaches for her hand, holding onto it for dear life.

"I promised you, didn't I? I'll take you to Jeju." l

The tears that were welling up in his eyes; overflowing, rolls down his cheeks one by one, and one too many. This was one of those moments where Hae Young sees Cho Sang-Woo cry.

"I'll take you there and do whatever you want." He tells her. "When we get out of here together."

"Sang-Woo--"

"I don't care how long it takes to pay for the shit I owe. Moon Hae Young, I want to go to Jeju with you."

She doesn't say anything else. She takes his warm hands wrapping them in her cold ones, placing her lips on his knuckles. She doesn't say anything else. She didn't need to.

In the silence, they waited for the inevitable. The watchful eyes of people unknown to them, the brooding, feeling of doom closing in. It was the quiet for the storm, leaving some room for hope or whatever miracle to take them out from their nightmare. Anything--anything, to keep the warm glow of the candlelight glowing.