i have a fever but i still got my lazy ass out of bed just to write this update, omg god bless me zzz
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December 21, 2016, 7 p.m.
"You idiot, can't you see that it's snowing?" Yoongi scolds as he shrugs his jacket off. He jogs in front of me, stopping me in my footsteps before I can go any further down the road.
He pulls me closer towards him as he covers my shoulders with his jacket, tying the sleeves around my chest.
"I don't need this," I try to persuade him. Besides his jacket (that's now on my body), a pair of jeans and red sneakers, the only other thing he has on is a white shirt, that doesn't appear to be very insulated.
"No one wants you freezing to death," Yoongi insists, suddenly looking up from the knot to stare into my eyes.
I freeze, my heart skipping a beat when I realize how close we are, both our noses less than an inch apart. Yoongi goes rigid as well, his expression mirroring mine.
We stand there blankly for a while, before I hastily take a step back, forcing myself to snap out of my daze. What am I doing?
"L-let's go get dinner!" I change the topic, once again taking the lead as I saunter past my bodyguard, gesturing for him to follow me as I search for a nice, warm restaurant to dine in. "I'm feeling hotpot today," I exhale, blowing my cheeks up as I stuff my hands into my jean pockets, an attempt to keep warm.
My stomach growls at the thought of food - the only thing that's on my mind after spending more than half of my day dealing with screaming toddlers and their unreasonable parents.
"I think there's a Korean barbeque restaurant down the street," Yoongi suggests, and I immediately agree.
We reach Yoongi's recommended outlet about 10 minutes later. The place is packed, with the queue running all the way in front of the neighboring convenience store.
"It's gonna take forever for us to get in there," I purse my lips at the sight, following Yoongi as he heads to the front of the shop to get us a menu. "Should we eat something else?" I give Yoongi's sleeve a gentle tug.
"I don't mind waiting," he turns to look at me, but before his eyes meet mine, he stops mid-rotation, his gaze locking on a table to the far corner of the restaurant.
Grabbing my hand, he drags me into the outlet without another word.
"What are you-" I start to object, but Yoongi cuts me off.
"Taehyung-ah!" my bodyguard exclaims, and I turn to match his gaze, the familiar name drawing my attention. My eyes fall on a brown-haired boy, in the midst of cooking his raw meat.
At Yoongi's greeting, the boy looks up, his face a mask of confusion as my bodyguard plops onto a seat beside him.
"Hey!" Taehyung protests as Yoongi grabs a pair of chopsticks from the utensil basket, helping himself with Taehyung's plate of cooked meat.
"It's you," I muse, interrupting their conversation as I settle onto a stool opposite my bodyguard.
Taehyung's gaze switches to me, his face lighting up the moment his eyes meet mine. "It's Feisty Girl!" he grins, offering me a pair of chopsticks from the basket beside him.
"You biased ass," Yoongi glowers at his friend, but Taehyung chooses to ignore him, the smile widening on his face as he offers me some meat.
"Eat more," Taehyung beams at me, as if we've known each other for a long time, and didn't just meet two days ago.
I am happy to oblige, shoving a piece of meat into my mouth as Taehyung raises his hand to order more food.
The shrill ringing of Yoongi's cell comes before the arrival of the waiter, and I watch as my bodyguard steps aside to answer the call.
"We'll be there right away," is the only thing I catch before Yoongi hangs the call. His expression is serious when he walks back to the table, the exact opposite of Taehyung's bright smile. "Mr. Park has been admitted to the hospital," he tells me, and I almost choke on my food.
"What?" my eyes widen in shock. "Why?!"
"Someone attacked him while Jungkook and Seokjin were on break," he briefly explains, before turning to his brown-haired friend. "Can you drive us to the hospital?" Yoongi asks him.
To my surprise, Taehyung instantly agrees. With a nod, he hands Yoongi the keys to his van, before proceeding to settle the bill while my bodyguard and I head towards the car park.
The brown-haired boy joins us a few minutes later, and together, the three of us climb into the vehicle. With nothing more than a soft purr, the van starts up and begins to gun off towards the hospital.
***
It's almost eight o' clock by the time we reach the medical building.
Taehyung drops us off at the lobby, before proceeding to park his car. Yoongi and I barge into the hospital, our feet creating loud thuds against the marble floor as we stampede towards the emergency unit.
Jungkook and Seokjin are the first people I see when we enter, and I immediately sprint towards them, panic written all over my face.
"Miss Park," Jungkook and Seokjin greet me with a bow.
"Where's Dad?" I demand anxiously.
"The doctors are operating on him," Seokjin tells me, and only then do I realize that we're standing outside the operation theater.
"Is Jimin here?"
Jungkook shakes his head in reply. "We tried calling him, but the line didn't connect."
I sigh, sinking onto a plastic chair nearby. My head falls into my hands as I start to chew on my bottom lip. Please be okay, please be okay...
"He'll be fine," I hear Yoongi console beside me, his hand patting my shoulder in comfort.
Moments later, the light above the operation theater dims with a soft beep, a signal that the operation has ended.
I watch as my father emerges from the room, his eyes shut and his body slack on the hospital cot as the nurses wheel him down the corridor. I've never seen Dad's face this ashen, or his hair this messy.
"Dad," I whisper, starting to run towards him.
"Miss," Yoongi holds me back before I can even take a step forward, his hands gripping both my elbows as he pulls me towards him. My back makes impact with his chest as he does so, my head automatically fitting below his chin. "You can visit Mr. Park later," he persuades.
Somehow, that manages to calm me down.
"Are all of you the patient's children?" someone suddenly asks, and we all snap our heads towards the owner of the voice, our gazes falling on a middle-aged man in a white coat.
"Doctor," I greet the stranger with a slight bow, "I'm the patient's daughter. How's my father?"
The man clears his throat, before beginning to speak. "The patient was stabbed in the stomach and has lost a tremendous amount of blood," he tells us solemnly. "His condition was critical when he was first admitted, and although it has stabilized now, it would still be good if you let him rest for the next eight hours."
"Does that mean I can't visit him?"
"Yes, until eight hours later," the doctor finishes his speech.
"Thank you, Doctor," I bow politely.
The man flashes a small smile in reply, before sauntering down the corridor, out of sight.
I plop back down onto the chair once he's gone, my head falling backwards to lean against the wall. "I'm staying here for the night," I say weakly, glancing towards the three bodyguards. "Y'all are dismissed."
Before they can answer, I pull my knees to my chest, burying my head inside the warm denim material of my jeans, shutting myself off from the world.
The soft shuffle of footsteps and the silence that follows indicate that the bodyguards have left. Although I was the one who told them to, a sense of loneliness washes over me, and I find myself wishing they were back here with me.
I exhale heavily, lifting my head from my knees to survey my surroundings.
"Here," a sandwich is suddenly shoved in front of my face, and I look up to meet my mint-haired bodyguard's gaze.
"I thought I said you could go," I take the food from his hands. The bread is still in its packaging, the subtle warmth that's radiating from the plastic wrap indicating that it's fresh from a vending machine.
Yoongi shrugs in reply. "You better eat up," he switches back to our previous topic. "You barely ate just now."
"It's fine," I place the sandwich back into his hands, noticing that he didn't get anything for himself. "You can have it."
"Your dad would deduct my salary if I let you go hungry," he shoots me a small reassuring smile, shoving the bread back to me. "Spare a thought for me, at least."
"Fine," I roll my eyes, a small grin starting to form on my face. "Min Yoongi," I call his name as I tear open the plastic wrap, exposing the sandwich to the cold hospital air.
"Hm?"
"Thank you," I mumble softly, splitting the sandwich into two and offering half of it to him.
"It's my job," he returns the smile, taking the bread from my hands.
"I'm not talking about the sandwich," I turn to look him in the eye.
He meets my gaze, an eyebrow raised as he munches on the bread.
"My dad was right in hiring you," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "I feel safe around you." Realizing what I've just said, I hastily look away, my sandwich suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world.
Oh my god, he's gonna get so cocky, I swear.
To my surprise, Yoongi doesn't react. His gaze remains on me, and it isn't until I look back at him before he looks away.
"I guess that's part of the job too," he finally says, after a long moment of silence.
"I BROUGHT FOOD!!" Taehyung suddenly interrupts, appearing out of nowhere. I jump at his exclamation - however, Yoongi doesn't seem fazed.
"I thought you were gone for good," my bodyguard mutters while Taehyung sets his numerous plastic bags on the chair next to Yoongi.
"Processed food is bad for your health," the brown-haired boy informs us, snatching the half-eaten sandwiches from our hands and throwing them into a nearby bin.
"I spent the last of my change on that!" Yoongi objects, rising from his seat. Taehyung instantly pushes him back down onto the hard plastic, shoving a bag of chips into my bodyguard's hands to shut him up. "I don't see how this is any better than the sandwich," Yoongi points out, but Taehyung ignores him.
"I got this for you," the brown-haired boy turns to me, gently handing me a transparent plastic container, filled to the brim with hot porridge. "It's from the hospital cafeteria."
"Kim Taehyung, I swear to god, just because she's a girl-"
"I'm honestly not hungry," I interrupt Yoongi, politely returning the porridge to Taehyung. However, the boy refuses to take 'no' for an answer.
"If you don't eat, how will you have the energy to worry for your Dad?" Taehyung gently persuades while taking the seat on the other side of me.
I exhale, my gaze flitting to Yoongi, then to the porridge, before resting on the brown-haired boy's weirdly charming smile.
"Let's share."
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please take note that i am writing this at night while coughing my lungs out, so I'M SORRY FOR THE SUCKY CHAPTER.
'sucky' should be a word.
BUT STILL LALALA Y'ALL BETTER COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT <3
-hoseokieomo