Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I strode over to the bus stop, watching as the bus slowly pulled up in front of me. Right after I paid for my ticket, I tired to take a glance to see if Hyeong Joon had already gotten on. I didn’t expect it at first, but when I saw him wave his hand to me, I knew exactly where I would be sitting. He saved a space next to him. Who would’ve ever thought about that?

Immediately, I rushed up to him and took a seat right next to him, placing my bag onto the hard floor of the bus. His earbuds were on as he had been busy on his phone, and his foot had been tapping to the beat of the song. He then turned the phone off and glanced back at me, giving me a sweet smile. “Morning!” he happily said.

He then took out one of his earbuds and offers it to me. Carefully, I pick it up and place it in my ear, hearing the sweet tune he had been listening to. Lost At Sea (IIla Illa 2) by B.I had been blasting through the speakers. The song was emotional, yet beautiful. It was a lot like life. Life can sometimes be at it’s worse, yet it still can be beautiful and precious at some points.

Ugh, and here I am, being sentimental again.

I look downward to my left hand, which had started bleeding again. “Fūck,” I quietly said to myself, “I thought I’d cleaned it thoroughly…” Hyeong Joon then glances at me, and a look of concern immediately grows in his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, grabbing my hand to inspect the wound.

“I just…slashed my hand on broken glass,” I said, which was technically not a lie, “I dropped a glass and managed to slash my hand while cleaning it up…” A finger then traces over each edge of the wound, gliding gently above the ripped skin.

“We’ll go to the nurse’s office right when we reach the school,” he said, looking back up at me. “For now, all I can do to help is to clean the outer bits of your wound.”

“Here?” I asked, “Isn’t the ride too bumpy to do it?” He then snickers a bit, yet I couldn’t tell why. He then proceeded to wipe the blood off with a wet wipe, but was still smiling obviously.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, “did I say something wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he said through laughter, “I just took that the wrong way.” For a while, I had a long thought of what I’d said, yet I couldn’t seem to get any idea. Then it came to me. He mistook it as a term when you want to…fūck a person.

“Ohh…” I muttered. “Shīt.” He starts to laugh even more with my words, and it was as though he couldn’t even concentrate anymore. “You dirty-minded bastard,” I said as I pretended to strike him on the head. Of course, I was being playful with my actions, and I never intended to actually hit him. But instead, my hand was caught my his and he managed to stop me from “hitting” him.

His grip was strong, yet not strong enough to the point where I couldn’t get loose of his hold. He was still smiling at me, even though we were in a position that anyone would’ve mistaken as assault. “Don’t hit your elders like that,” he told me.

“And how do you know that you’re older than me?” I asked.

“I checked the yearbook at break time,” he said in a “know-it-all” tone, “you are approximately…1 month, 4 weeks, and 3 days younger than me.”

“Well that’s precise,” I said, smirking cheekily at him. I then look out to the window behind him. We were in front of the beach. Shades of pink and yellow lined the horizon, and slowly faded into a Prussian blue by the zenith. The sun’s light had casted onto the ripples of water that the ocean made, following along each and every wave that was forming near the shore.

“You wanna go there sometime?” I asked him. He then looks over his shoulder, hand still keeping hold of my wrist.

“Yeah,” he told me. “Maybe…this weekend, sunset?” A smile then plays on my lips, and my heart had started racing. It’s basically gonna be a date, right? I thought.

“Of course!” I told him. Just then, the bus came into an abrupt halt, which immediately made me look over to the stop we were at.

“Aren’t we getting off at the next stop?” Hyeong Joon asked.

“Yeah,” I said as I stood up from my seat, throwing my bag back onto my shoulder. Slowly, he follows from behind and stood right next to me, who was already at the front door. The doors then slowly open and me and Hyeong Joon walk out of the bus, along with some other students who were also studying at our school, we just didn’t seem to notice them.

“Don’t we have to go to the nurse’s office?” I asked.

“Yep,” he smiled. “Form time can wait. For now, we gotta get your hand treated.”

.... . ....

The two of us then snuck into the nurse’s office, hoping to our lives that we wouldn’t be caught. I entered the room first. The nurse wasn’t even in, so it was just me and Hyeong Joon who were left in the room. He followed me from behind, looking out for anyone who might’ve seen us sneak into the office. Right when he came in, he immediately shut the door and rushed over to me, who was already sat on the examining table.

“Right…” he said to himself as he looked through a cupboard full of medicine. He took out a wound spray and bandage, then walked back over to me. He then takes a better glance at my hand, which had started bleeding much more than before. He sighed and let go of my hand, going back to the cupboard. “You’re gonna have to get that stitched.”

“What?” I asked in disbelief.

“The wound opened too much. A simple bandage wouldn’t be able to help that.” He stays silent for a while, looking for a needle and thread. “Don’t worry,” he told me as he crouched down in front of me. “I know how to do this. My dad’s a doctor. He taught me how to do this when I was a bit younger.” He then sprays a bit of antiseptic on my wound, which seemed to numb all the pain in my hand.

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry,” he told me in a reassuring tone. He threads the string into the needle and proceeds to wound it through my skin. The pricks didn’t hurt, yet I could still feel it stab through the thin layer of skin that tore out. His hands were steady with every action they made, and those grey eyes of his were full of precision as he threaded the needle through me.

He cuts the thread right when it reaches the end of my wound and ties a small knot at the end. He sets the needle and thread down on the examining table and looks up at me. “We’re done,” he smiled. “Did it hurt?”

“No, not at all,” I said, staring down at my hand. The middle had been covered with stitches completely. I normally would’ve hated something like this on my skin. But if it was something that Hyeong Joon did, I wouldn’t mind at all.

“You’re gonna have to go to the hospital to get it done properly,” he told me as he traced his fingers over the stitches. “I’m not a professional, but this was the best I could do. I’ll pay for the bills if you’d like.”

“No, it’s alright,” I said with a small smile played on my lips. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am.” We then heard the loud, horrible sound of the bell. We had to go to our form room, otherwise we’d get in trouble. I looked out to the door and saw the students rushing into their classrooms, yet me and Hyeong Joon were the only ones who were still out.

He then grabs my hand – the one that wasn’t wounded – and helps me down the examination table. “We gotta hurry…” he muttered to what seemed like himself as he guided me out of the room. As we ran to our classroom, my hand was still in his, and it felt as though I’d been on cloud 9. Though I knew we were going to be late, this was one of the most enjoyable times that we’ve been late.

If I’m with him, everything feels right, no matter what circumstance we’re in. If we were to be threatened to death, I would gladly die, as long as he’s with me. I know it’s only been two days since he joined…but I think I like him. I like him a lot, actually. And I don’t think I can stop liking him.

And it’s not just his looks that I’m in love with. It’s his everything; his personality, his body language; his smile; his voice; his background. Everything of him is considered a beauty to me.

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