F O R T Y - O N E
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I had tried to calm myself down, not to overthink and panic, and to get a glass of water, but what happened was I nearly got a panic attack, overthought every single thing that could happen once Minho came back, and almost dropped the glass of water because of my shaking hands.
It was almost completely dark in the hotel room by this time. Just a small light glowed a warm color in the corner of the room.
I was still so upset I had silent tears running down my cheeks when I sat on the couch, for some reason rereading Minho's note over and over again.
Then there was a sound at the door. I got a minor heart attack, lay down on the couch, and pretended to be asleep.
Someday I would maybe tell Minho what happened. But not this night. Not today. I would, as Thomas would say, tell him in less than a decade.
The door opened. Light even shined through my closed eyelids before it disappeared again. Footsteps wandering around the room as stuff got dropped down.
I swallowed. Tried to contain my breaths as best as possible, and relaxed my muscles.
A small breeze of someone, who I suppose was Minho, hit me; he was in front of me. Or rather, bent down so we were face-to-face. I felt his breaths on my face, tickling it slightly.
"Quinn?" A soft whisper. I didn't reply. He repeated my name a second time before whoosh, air of him getting up flew at me.
I let go of a breath when he walked away again. Then he came back, lying something down on me. A blanket.
I melted on the inside, happy he couldn't see the blush spreading on my cheeks.
Followed by that action, he gently took the sides of my head and lifted it up. Lay a pillow down under it.
God, this man was perfect!
"Good night, Princess." Another sweet whisper and— oh my god. A kiss on my forehead.
I could still feel his lips when he already walked away, and I wished to feel that all the time. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid he would hear it.
And eventually, I fell asleep.
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I woke up by a bright light, an immediate pain going through my body when I moved. My hand didn't feel broken, though, luckily. Just painful.
With a wince, I got up. The blanket still lay on top of me. That did make me smile.
"Hey."
My head shot up at Minho. He sat on the bed, clothes already on and hair styled. He wore a white button-up blouse with black pants... holy shit.
"Hey." I put on the fake, happy mask.
He stared at me for a while, eyes trailing over my face even from such a distance. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied as I stretched my back muscles. "You?"
"I'm fine, except I'm worried." He rubbed his chin. His eyebrows raised automatically as he got up to move closer.
I now had to look up at him from the couch. "About...?"
"Well, you say you're fine, and yet you've got tear stained cheeks, red eyes, and I can see that you're lying about being fine." He sighed and sat down on a chair. "Why?"
"My... period." I said fast. I felt bad for lying. He would find out about his wallet anyway, but still... I couldn't just tell him. I had no idea what to say. Not the whole truth, at least.
"If I remember it well enough you got your period when we were in the Netherlands, which was more than a week ago."
Oh well.
"It's taking longer to stop. Not a good... rhythm."
"Quinn." He exhaled and started at me sharply. "Just tell me what's going on. Why did you cry?"
I bit my lip for a long time. Lay my hands on my knees. "I—."
Suddenly, he jumped up. In just a split second, Minho stood next to me, my hand in his. "What the hell?" He stared at the red parts on my knuckles and the swollen, purple part on the back of my hand. "What's this?"
A lump filled my throat. I blinked a few times, watching my own injury, speechless.
"Did someone else do this?" He looked me right in the eyes now. No sound came out of my mouth. His jaw tightened as he repeated the question. I looked down.
Then he let go of my hand. Took a few steps around the room as he rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Who?"
"What?"
"Who did that?" He took a deep breath. "Quinn... who?"
"I... I didn't know him." I admitted, speaking half of the truth. I knew nothing about the cop!
His jaw clenched even tighter. "Do you have any other injuries? What happened?"
My breathing sped up. I clenched my fists, purely upset and trying to calm myself down as Minho kneeled in front of me, his eyes pleasing.
"I need you to tell me what happened." He said, his voice a little softer now. "All right?"
"I can't." I muttered to more myself than him.
"Yes, you can." He assured. "I'll ask the questions and all you have to do is answer them, yeah? I say you agree... when did this happen?"
A long silence before I answered, "Yesterday night."
"Okay." He took all the information in. "Do you have any other injuries?"
"Maybe on my back." I mumbled.
He nodded. "Is it okay if I look?"
"Uh... sure." I turned my back to him and held the front of my shirt so that part wouldn't go up. Carefully, Minho lifted a part of my shirt up. Trailed his finger that made me shiver over it.
"Just a little blue." He let me turn back fast. "What happened to your hand and what happened to your back?"
"He stepped on my hand." I didn't dare to make eye contact. "And I got slammed against the wall."
"Okay, thank you." A reassuring hand on mine. "Where did that happen? Here?"
I nodded.
"Alright..." His Adam's apple moved. He stared at nothing, his mind probably spinning. "How did he get in? Did you open the door? Was the window open?"
"The second one."
A light squeeze in my non-hurtful hand. "Can you tell me why he was here? What did he want? Or take?"
This was the hardest part. My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I blinked a million times, the memory replaying in my head over and over again. "I'm sorry." I now did look at him, guilt all over my face. "I tried to stop him, but now he— oh, god. I'm sorry. I'm s—."
"Hey, hey. Stop apologizing. There's no need to apologize, Princess." He told me. "What did he do?"
Maybe this was the last question. Maybe he wouldn't overthink why someone would just steal his wallet. "He stole." I whispered.
"What did he steal?" He wondered softly.
Another long pause.
"Your wallet. The grey one in your suitcase."
"Oh."
I closed my eyes. Let the realization sink in. I could've tried harder to stop him from stealing... Minho had a black card. Who knew how many coins and bills he had in that wallet?
"I'm sorry." I repeated, a familiar fear washing over me. "I'm so sorry." I was talking so fast I barely understood it myself. "I tried— I tried to stop him but he was too strong and— and I panicked I'm so sorry I'm sorry! Please don't hit me or—."
I stopped in an instant.
Then averted my whole body from Minho and broke down, shame filling me as I did so.
His hand touched my shoulder so softly I barely felt it. "I'm not going to hit you, Quinn." He breathed. "I won't." A pause as he sat down. "Come here."
Hesitantly but comfortable, I cried in his arms. He rubbed my back, his chin resting on my head. I felt so bad. So, so bad.
"It's okay." He said. "There wasn't too much money in my wallet. I took my card with me. Just a few bills were in there. And I really, really don't care." He continued. "All I care about is that you're not injured badly."
I sniffed. "You don't... care?"
"I don't." He replied in a soft tone. "It's not your fault. I don't expect you to be able to stop a robber, Quinn. And I'm not gonna hit you for it, okay?"
Aiden would've blamed me. Aiden would've hit me. He would've. No matter how many times I apologized.
Maybe with Minho it was different, I thought. Maybe apologizing did work... because he hadn't hit me after I said sorry that many times. Maybe that was it. Just to apologize.
"Hey, but we're leaving to France today. In a while. Do you want something to cool your hand down with?"
"No, thanks." I attempted a small smile at him.
"A shower?"
I shook my head. "I'll just grab my stuff so we can be early for the train."
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A/n: Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh France finally!!
Quinho reminds me of Our Song by Taylor Swift :))
Anyway, hope you enjoyed!! x Vera