Choi Yeonjun 🏍

Late that evening, there was another knock on the door. You opened it and immediately saw Yeonjun. He had a split lip, a cut eyebrow, a bruised eye, and bruised knuckles. He was breathing heavily, holding his side with one hand.

• Just don't get angry...

You silently stepped aside, letting him in. Yeonjun sat down on the couch while you got out the first aid kit. He rolled up his sleeve and held out his hand. You carefully began to treat the abrasions. Yeonjun winced, but didn't pull his hand away.

“Does it hurt?” you asked quietly.

• Tolerable.

You looked at him with displeasure.

• You're lying.

He chuckled quietly.

• A little.

You continued bandaging his knuckles, occasionally shooting him angry glances. Those debts again. That fight again. And again, he came to you. Finished, you gently touched his broken eyebrow. Yeonjun closed his eyes for a second.

— Did they come again?

He remained silent. You sighed heavily.

• Yeonjun...

• I'll figure it out.

• You say that every time.

He looked down. You sat in silence for a few seconds. You put a bandage on his eyebrow and put the first aid kit away.

Yeonjun suddenly caught your wrist.

• Don't go.

You looked at him. He looked completely different than usual. Without his usual smile and confidence—just a tired guy with nowhere else to go. You sat down next to him. Yeonjun gently rested his head on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

• Thank you…

You ran your hand through his hair.

• Next time, at least try not to come covered in blood.

He chuckled quietly without opening his eyes. “I’ll try.”

And for the first time all evening, his shoulders finally relaxed.