reef knot

nine

December 19, 2016, 10 p.m.

  "YOONGI!"

  I exclaim, my eyes forming full moons at the sight of my bodyguard on the ground, eyes barely open with sweat beading his forehead.

  I hastily lower myself into a squat to get a better look at his condition. Placing an arm underneath his neck, I hoist his head up onto my lap, while my other hand searches his body for the source of his sudden weakness.

  I find it almost immediately, my hands coming into contact with the dampness that's forming on the top of Yoongi's suit.

  At my touch, Yoongi winces, and it isn't until I remove my hand and take a good look at it before I start to freak out.

  Even in the darkness, I can make out the dark red substance on my skin - Yoongi's blood.

  "Oh my gosh," I whisper, expression quickly turning from surprised to panicked. Switching my attention back to Yoongi, I gently peel away his jacket, only to find the white shirt underneath already soaked in red.

  It's because of the bullets.

  "Oh my god oh my god oh my god," I feel tears brim my eyes as I inspect the two crater-like wounds that have formed on either of Yoongi's shoulders, both oozing with blood.

  "H-hey," Yoongi manages to mumble, "I'm fine. I-it's okay."

  "No, you're not," I tell him. Swallowing, I snake my right hand around his waist, helping him up into a sitting position, before slinging his arm over my shoulder. With all of my might, I hoist him back up onto his feet.

  "Hang in there," I say, beginning to drag him out of the clearing, towards the direction I was initially headed. "We'll get out soon," I assure, more to myself than to him.

  Sneaking another glance at Yoongi, my eyebrows furrow even deeper together. "Why are you still bleeding?" I mumble, my grip around his waist tightening as I pull him closer to my side. "Don't be afraid okay? We'll be out of here in no time." 

  "I'm not afraid," Yoongi softly protests, his head turning to meet my gaze. "You are."

  I feel my eyes water once again as the words sink in. "The last time I saw this much blood was-" I cut myself off, the image of Mom with a knife impaled in her stomach coming to mind. 

  I bite my lip, willing the thought out of my mind. Don't cry, Park Jiyoung, I start to chew on my bottom lip. Now is not the time to cry.

  Not surprisingly, a tear still manages to escape despite my self-encouragements, and I have to hold my breath to prevent another from escaping.

  "Crybaby," Yoongi mutters, reaching across to brush the tear off my cheek. 

  The gentle action takes me by surprise, coming from tough guy Yoongi. The pain must have driven him mad. 

  "Will putting pressure on the wound stop the bleeding?" I suddenly suggest, my expression lifting at the idea. However, Yoongi shakes his head.

  "We need to stitch it up," he tells me.

  "But I don't have a sewing kit," my frown returns.

  "We'll get help," he replies. His voice is strangled, as if it pains him to even speak.

  I decide to focus on leaving this place instead of on Yoongi's condition, for the time being. Looking up, I realize that we're no longer in the clearing. However, our current location isn't any better, either. Tall weeds surround us, some bedding around the soles of my shoes, and others towering above me.