BOSS | NCT

o16

Lucas, relative to my frail body build, is heavy. He's a six feet human being of defined muscles. I feel so weak as I put his arms over my shoulders, while mine was wrapped around his stomach, in an attempt to carry him on his bed. But Lucas cooperated with me, trying to carry maybe half of his weight by standing up on his own while the other half was pressed to me.

I didn't flinch a muscle even when I felt the hot blood from his upper torso soiling my hand that was holding him.

"Nina . . . " he breathed heavily as we took careful, deliberate steps to his bed. I can feel the uneven pace of every air that puffs out from his lips, touching the juncture between my shoulders and neck. "Nina, please, I-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence. Lucas gritted his teeth in pain from the suffering caused by his injury.

"Stop talking, Lucas." I attempted to silence him, although I myself don't have the slightest idea on what's going on.

Aside from his heavy breathing, Lucas didn't made any noise.

He didn't say anything as we slowly took his bed. I made him lay on it with his head resting over the headboard. I kicked off my shoes and climbed beside him, the mattress slowly pressing down because of our existent weight.

"Lucas . . ."

My fingers nervously trailed his body. They ended up at his clothes that were dirty from blood. They're shaking too much. This looks fatal unlike yesterday, seems like a gunshot, and I don't have any experience on dressing wounds like this. He's bleeding and I don't-

I don't know what to do.

Lucas grabbed my hand with his own and mumbled, "Take it," he breathed. "Take it off, Nina."

I nodded.

Eyes fixed, brow narrowed in concentration, I reached for the bottom of his shirt. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for me, so I pulled his shirt up and over his head.

He inhaled sharply.

My eyes widened at the sight of his wound. I have a mix feeling of headache and fear, my eyes squinting at the sight of its redness.

This doesn't look like an ordinary wound.

"Lucas, wh-what should I . . . ?"

"Open the drawer," he hissed.

I responded in an instant, pulling open the drawer on the bedside table. I saw an arranged set of sealed vials stored in it.

Lucas breathed sharply, his eyes squeezed shut. "Take the one that has a label on it. The one with the silver cap."

While he was speaking, my eyes scanned each one of the vials as I immediately spotted what he meant. I took it in between my fingers, "Th-then what?"

I am aware of the rise and fall of my chest.

"Open it. Damp my shirt with all of its contents. Then spread it around my wound," he breathed. "Hurry..."