I was frowning with my sweaty brows. My eyes squinting. I shook while pressing- no, I was hitting- the buttons by now.
I wondered, does the elevator work for Jungkook too?
I glanced at the front, he's in the empty luxurious corridor. It did not simply taste like wealth anymore, more like the taste of how wealth could blind a man's eyes and lead him to be a horrible person, hurt other people, so he could enjoy, for he had enough power.
My finger was numb from the swift push one by one. The door was finally closing- beginning to close, at least I could see the two sides of it slowly reaching each other.
My teary eyes filled with fright, focused on Jungkook. If I described him as a leopard before, he's a hundred times worse. He was annoyingly flirty before, but still there'd be a lot of clear playfulness in his voice. Now, seeing him running closer to me, I was sure that if he could get to me, he would grab my hair, kick my stomach for a few times till I spill blood before he would drag me back to his room to gift me with more torment.
Yes he looked that insane right now. His long wet hair no longer looked clean after the shower, instead of waving in the air like how Jimin's did, it was slightly curled. Maybe Jungkook had successfully drove me crazy, I thought I saw his hair pulsing dangerously, pointing towards the door, telling me to go back.
The doors would be completely closed in a few seconds.
He never gave up.
I screamed and dropped onto the floor when I saw him giving a last jump.
He extended his hand.
And, he did it. He reached it.
His hand was intentionally stuck between the doors, he wanted to stop it from closing.
I saw his wrist twisting like a monster's as he tried to grab the side of the doors and push them back.
"No..." I whimpered. I began to crawl towards a corner at the back. My injured leg limping while pushing my body back to a safer spot. I hugged myself like a ball. I covered my face with my trembling hands.
"Please don't hit me! Pl..please don't- I..I'm sorry, I'll not do that again," I sobbed.
Ding!
I flinched to the sudden noise. My breathing paused when I lifted up my head and saw nothing, no more running, no more roaring and no more hands between the doors.
I turned to the side and saw a black screen showing numbers indicating the floor that I was on.
59, 58, 57...
His hand... His hand had slipped out of the gap.
I blinked, a few more rolls of hot tears streaming down my red cheeks.
I'm free. He's gone. He can't catch me anymore.
I exhaled in a quavering breath. I hardly relaxed and my feet slipped till both my legs hit the floor. I dropped my hands to the side and my head to the back.
It caused a clear hollow noise when my head hit the wall.
A few seconds after the pain, my hands were wet with dripping tears again. I was sobbing hard. I wasn't even given the freedom and right to cry loudly while escaping just now. It was the first time when I could finally release my emotions after the past few hours.
My head nodded with the beat of every sob.
My head nervously turned to the side, where a big shiny mirror was at.
My heart instantly skipped a beat.
Strands of hair were stuck on my face because of sweat. The whites of my eyes had red veins all over it. Drops of tears were still hanging at the tip of my wet eyelashes. Fresh blood had never stopped flowing out on my lips. I bit on them for too long, and with an inhumanly huge force, that made them look like sausages now, swollen and red. Some of them dried at the corners of my lips. Those blood from my lips had been dripping down to my chin and to my white shirt, staining them in a way that made me look like a vampire who had just sucked on someone's neck.
I wiped my chin with the back of my hand but it only left a clearer path of red ink and a disgusting-rotten-egg-smell on my hand. I lightly held my ankle and tried to move it. I winced in pain. People would probably think that I wore the wrong sock today, a white on the left and a red on the right. I did not dare to pull down my socks just yet. The wound would be awful, looking very blood-curdling, probably like a plum that had been torn open revealing the fresh meat inside, which in my wound, would be bloody layered flesh.
I would reach the ground floor soon. I stumbled as I stood up. I fixed my hair and my shirt trying to look as smart as I could. Before I walked out of the elevator, I tried to move my shoulder. I could but it took a lot of effort. It was purple and swollen.
I gripped on my bag, walking as steadily as possible so I would attract the least attraction. I made eye contact with a few securities but they all quickly looked away as if they had made a guess of what'd happened to me - beaten up by the spoiled kid upstairs.
They had to look away because clearly Jungkook's more of a boss here, not me. I was just an outsider.
Finally I stepped outside and could take in some fresh air, it smelt sweet.
I have to go home now. I have to see Jimin.
After a lengthy car ride, gaining a few strange gazes from people around me, I stepped out of the bus and now I had finally reached my dorm.
I avoided passing by anywhere that was very likely to have boarders or staff members gathering around.
By the time I finished taking a shower, Jimin had texted me saying that he would stop by my door very soon.
I stopped in front of the mirror to check if I'd forgotten to take care of any newly-added-wounds. All my blood had been wiped away. There were only three places where you could notice some differences: my chapped lips with several patches of dried blood, my bruised shoulder and the bigger wound on my ankle.
Ding dong-
I gasped and ran to the door. It's Jimin. I couldn't wait to hug him and tell him everything that had happened. Deep inside, I wanted him to take revenge for me. I wanted to see Jungkook getting hurt again just like how he made me, but I knew I couldn't, and I should never, because that would mean Jimin getting hurt too.
I took a deep breath, making sure that I wouldn't break down in front of him. Then I opened the door.
"Hey-" Before I could finish acting calm, Jimin had me in his warm embrace already. Emotions started to build up, I blinked away my tears before I broke the hug and smiled at him.
He held both my hands. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" He seemed to have not noticed my swollen lips.
"I'm alright." Biggest lie of the history.
"Are you sure? I feel like you-" He spoke. I saw his eyes trailing all over my body, seeming to have gradually noticed something.
"Why did you come? Anyways?" I cleared my throat still keeping a fake joyful grin on my face.
He stuttered and slowly raised up his hand holding a first aid box. "I'm here to treat your wounds from yesterday."
Clear suspicion was growing in his eyes, I could almost be completely sure about that. His hazel eyes grew narrow as they stared into my simple, suffering ones.
I pulled him along to break the stare. I tried so hard not to limp, and not to bite on my lips on my way to the couch.
We sat down. He did not speak, nor start off any peaceful conversations with me like how he would normally do to 'ease my pain later on'.
Instead, he seriously and professionally took out all his tools and abruptly rolled up my sleeve.
He observed and touched, gently moving my shoulder to test.
For a moment, I thought I saw his lips parted and his brows frowned. But when he noticed that I was looking at him, he put on his fake mask of blank expression again.
He knelt down in front of me. Still silent. he removed the bandage and now I was sure, he gasped under his breath.
He remained still. He continued sanitising my wounds, changing bandages. When he had to make a knot with the roll of bandage on his hands as they were about to finish off, I felt him exerting more force than usual. He firmly pulled it to opposite ends before he twisted them and made a knot.
Is he angry? Is he blaming me?
I lowered my head trying to read his expression when he lifted up his head and met my gaze.
His face full of concern and worry, guilt and compassion. He finally whispered, "I'm not blaming you."
Wow.
"I'm blaming myself." He stared at his hands. "Your wounds have worsened. You don't have to explain, I understand." He raised up his hand stopping me from protesting.
"He could've- done worse, if it wasn't you probably escaping right on time."
All those terrible moments flashed into my mind like lightnings striking all over the place. My hands began to quiver.
"It's my fault. I'm your boyfriend but I couldn't even keep you safe. I could have- asked for Jungkook's address and called a cab, to save you but I did not." His voice sounded miserable and heartbroken.
He sighed, agony growing in him. He kept on blinking and blinking like he had done something wrong and was embarrassed. "Seohyun-ah," he called. "It's still not late if you want to break up with me. I would still be watching out for you but I couldn't anymore, at least not for now. I don't think I can accept myself as your boyfriend anymore. I've failed for too many tim-"
I cupped his cheeks and forcefully turned his head to me. "That's enough," I said.
A small gasp escaped from his mouth because of all the tears on my face that had been pouring out since he started explaining, he did not notice just yet.
"Yes, you're right. Jungkook...did touch me," I gulped. My sobs grew louder. "But, I don't care anymore."
I chuckled, "all I wish- is to be with you. I still want you to be around me all the time because you've never- ever- failed me."
Jimin's eyes reddened. Our faces inches away. My thumb caressing his soft cheeks.
"Right now, I need you the most."
Almost 2000 words! It's 1 am here and I'm feeling super tired and a bit sick, guess I have to sleep now~ Please vote and comment. I love yall so much^^