𝐴𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑒 // 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝒉𝑜

sixteen.

     "You're hurt?"

Haneul hurriedly yanked her shirt down, twisting painfully away from his view with burning cheeks. "It's just the old wound, I'm fine. I can take care of it."

She was afraid to look up at him, afraid of the seething fury that she knew was brewing in his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye, Haneul saw his hands ball into tense fists.

"Let me see."

At that, she jerked her head up incredulously, the utter entitlement in his tone causing her teeth to grind together.

"I said I'm fine," Haneul spat, pinching her shirt away from her unbandaged abdomen as she wriggled farther back on the bed, now-irritated stitches making her wince. "You don't need to baby me, I'm perfectly capable."

     Minho leaned down, placing his palms firmly on the bed to bracket her thighs, halting her movements. "I don't care if 'you can do it'; you lied to me. What if you had been stabbed again? Or poisoned? Would you have been able to take care of it then?"

     Her eyes narrowed, and she shoved his shoulder away, hard. "You don't get to act like this. I would've said something if it was that bad, but it's not, so leave me alone."

There was still that controlled coolness in his eyes, but Minho gracefully stood back up. "I don't get to act like what? My eternal soul depends on you staying alive until it's your time to die, so I will continue sticking my nose in your business. You're the one who doesn't have a say, got it?"

Haneul could feel her face heating up even more, blood rushing to her cheeks as her anger swelled. How dare he pretend that he had control over her?

The tube of ointment abruptly flew from her fingers, smacking Minho directly in the chest as Haneul fumed from the bed.

"Get out!"

She continued hurling random objects at him, but Minho determinedly stood his ground, deflecting the heavier ones with ease. His endless patience wore down on Haneul's sanity every second, and she finally scrambled for purchase on her mattress before surging up, her hands barking in pain as she slammed them into Minho's shoulders.

But before Haneul had the chance to scream insults in his face, a startled gasp left her mouth, something in her side flaring with a sickly, ripping pain. She unceremoniously flopped back down on the blankets, stunned moisture filling her eyes as she held her tummy with quivering hands.

Minho was kneeling in front of her faster than she could register the movement, his brows furrowed with concern as he pulled her fingers away to inspect the damage. His breath hissed at what he saw, hand squeezing into her hip firmly to draw her attention to him.

"You idiot, you just ripped some of the stitches. It was almost closed too... you should lie back while I fix it."

It burned, it burned badly. Haneul resisted the urge to look down at the result of her emotional stupidity, instead focusing on Minho's grim face as he reached for the small medical kit. When she saw the needle grasped in his slim fingers, her lip began to tremble.

Quickly, Minho threaded the needle and steadied himself, lowering the keen point to her skin with a heavy sigh. Before he began, Minho let his hand drift across Haneul's skin, stroking his thumb against her hip soothingly as she struggled against the searing sensation in her belly.

"It's just a few. Take a deep breath."

The first sting of the needle had her biting her lip wretchedly, the tugging of her tender flesh causing the heels of her hands to dig into her eyelids. Her voice was shaking as she breathed out slowly.

"Just heal me with your divine power, please."

Minho's hand had to brace her against the bed with his inhuman strength, her body writhing away from the second cruel prick . "I can't, I'm too drained from the attack, Haneul. Just relax, it'll be over soon."

It took six more tugs of the thin string to sew her up; Minho wiped his sweaty, shaking hands on his pants as he eased up off of Haneul, her cheeks damp despite her effort to control her body's reaction. He watched as her eyes closed and she recovered in silence, lashes brushing her cheekbones.

Minho almost reached for her arm, to pat or soothe or do something. But Haneul released a shuddering, resigned whimper and he froze, his emotions immediately shutting off.

     He couldn't stay with her while she was like this, desperate to escape the pain he'd just caused her. It was uncomfortable for some reason.

Minho grabbed the salve from the floor and a pill bottle out of the kit, settling them next to her along with a roll of gauze. "You should put the bandage on in a few minutes, and take two of these."

     After making sure she had faintly nodded her understanding, Minho got up and left, Haneul rolling onto her good side to achieve a more comfortable position.

     It took a long time, hours maybe, but the shock of the pain subsidized enough that she could push herself up in her elbows. Unsteady, Haneul grasped the ointment, swiping it onto her skin before she could chicken out. While she wrapped the gauze around her waist, her tongue traced the seam of her dry lips, and Haneul glanced around for her water bottle.

     It was in the kitchen, she realized distantly. She could obviously walk with little discomfort... but she didn't want to see him. There was a tightness in her chest, tightness that had blossomed when she'd watched his back exit her room as he'd left her in solitude.

     Haneul pushed her shoulders back, mustering a determination she couldn't quite summon. She wasn't, and wouldn't, act weak. Not when he could see it; she refused to be regarded as a burden to anyone.

The living room was dark, Haneul's muscle memory leading her through the silent house. Fingers groping, she flipped the kitchen light on, filling a glass with water and downing the pills. A nasty film settled on the room of her mouth, and Hanuel swished some more water to wash it away.

Regardless of what had happened, Hanuel couldn't help but feel pity for the demon. He was genuinely concerned for her, albeit on a contractual level. But over everything that had gone down in the past weeks... the least she could do was thank him.

"Minho," she called tiredly as the ache in her head and belly subsided a bit. Her feet shuffled back to the living room and she hesitantly approached the couch, squinting into the shadows to find him.

The demon was fast asleep, the deep circles under his eyes evident as he rested. Hanuel sighed and watched his chest rise and fall, his drained body slowly regaining much needed strength.

She supposed he'd been just as fatigued when he'd stitched her back up, but he'd still prevented Haneul from hurting herself even more. There was such a strange dynamic with him, his insatiable desire to see her safe at all times, off balanced by the way he constantly held her aloft.

She hated him.

     But that didn't stop her from draping a blanket across his slumbering form, tucking it ruefully under his chin even as she resented him.

     He didn't wake up.

yeah so he didn't ask me out

but today is national crush day so idk if i should try and tell him😪