The Siren's Song

Chapter 50- overdosed on confusion and feelings

(Y/N) POV:

I rush forward, not caring for the bodies to bump into and shove past in my haste to get to Habaek oppa, eyes widening. The closer I get, the more the rage builds in me, bubbling upwards and getting close to exploding.

And what disgusts me is that when I get closer I see that the two people who have their hands roving hungrily over him are the same two people who'd been hovering nearby the entire night.

I forcefully pull away the girl's hand that's roving down his chest, nails catching in the mesh top- almost clawing at him, close to ripping it, throwing it aside as I feel rage build. I glare when I see the other person, a man has his hand close to oppa's belt, fingers trying to undo it- but given the glaze and slightly fumbling fingers, he's drunk. But that doesn't excuse nor justify his actions, he's not completely gone that he has no sense of his surroundings and alcohol doesn't make you force yourself onto others.

My fingers catch at his wrist, stilling his movements and he slowly raises his head, drunken expression turning into one of rage and recognition.

"Get your hand off me, he's mine." He slurs, trying to wrench himself free, his state of intoxication making it harder for him, just as an arm lands on my shoulder and wrenches me back, spinning me around to face the woman who's glaring at me.

"Don't try muscle in, we've been looking at him all night." She says, as if that'll somehow justify her actions, her attempts to assault someone who clearly isn't aware of his surroundings.

But then the words she utters next, makes that bubble of anger burst and the rage to spill over.

"It took so much effort to get him wasted. Now move." She grits, trying to pull me back.

Wasted. But that's not what explains the dilated pupils when I turn or the sweaty sheen to his face or the way he seems to lean onto the wall for physical support, hands weak as he struggles to unlatch the man's grip on his belt, fingers successfully opening the buckle of the belt and sliding it open.

I feel her nails catch and dig in slightly at my shoulder when I wrench myself free.

And I don't care what the consequences are, or how I'll get the two of them off when I twist the man away and my knee drives up in a jerk to his groin, driving every bit of force and all my anger into it- satisfied at the pained groan that follows and how he doubles over, hands off the belt like I'd wanted it to.

He curses, watery eyes flying to meet mine as he stumbles upright, swearing filthily as he advances, Habaek oppa forgotten for the moment as he moves closer to me.

And rather than deal with words or even express the glittering dissatisfaction in his eyes, he manages to land a heavy blow across my face when he backhands me, the force causing my face to jerk abruptly to the side- face stinging with the hit, feeling the throb of it where the metal of his heavy rings had hit.

I straighten, ignoring the pain. Right now Habaek oppa needs me.

And right now these two are my problem.

"Dirty slut trying to muscle in. It was so hard to get him alone." He spits out, swaying slightly.

I automatically shift to stand in front of Habaek oppa, silently worrying at the lack of awareness in his eyes or the way he fumbles even as he leans against the wall.

My hand reaches back to grip the side of his hip, squeezing lightly. Silently waiting for him to mumble anything, squeeze back. Just any reaction that lets me know he's aware, he's fine. That it didn't get further than this. That I managed to arrive on time.