A/N: Obviously this will no longer be canon in about two days, but I wanted to write it.
Bong Soon sleeps like the dead, and so neither of them are ever very certain how it was that she woke in time to save him.
.
As it is, his door flies off his hinges. She does that with one hand; with the other, she has the attacker by the throat.
As it is, for throats, she is not quite in time. Min Hyuk's fingers tense around his own. Blood is seeping through; he prays it does not run quick enough to be his jugular.
Strange, how all fear feels the same. He is trapped behind the cupboard door with his brothers jeering on the other side; he is sore and trembling on the bus that never crashed; he is holding in his blood with his hands.
It all feels the same.
.
Bong Soon does not call the police at first; for this he is stupidly grateful. He wants her to himself, he knows well enough now that he always wants her to himself. He learned that in the moments in between, when she wasn't looking at him but he was looking at her.
He does not see how she could possibly be the angel in the pink hood—that seems too much like coincidence—
But it feels the same.
.
The attacker is out cold, out three teeth too, trussed up on his bedroom floor.
There is blood everywhere. Min Hyuk feels faint. Maybe he is dying. He also thinks, not yet, and wishes Bong Soon would put her hands around him, hold the blood and life in. She is, after all, strong enough.
"Shh," she says, shaking her head. "You are not dying."
"Aish," he says, pulling a face. He always has to hide something when she looks right at him. "You seem so sure."
Bong Soon rushes to the bathroom. She is his bodyguard, and she patched up his arm last time, so she must know where the first aid kit is. But she still surprises him.
"Turn on your side," she says. "This will sting."
A tear leaks out of the corner of his eyes; it is just nerves. He is not crying. He has not cried for a long time, right?
She stops the bleeding; her hands could crush him with one pinch but they feel gentle against his skin.
It stings, but he can bear it.
He complains, so that she won't notice how much he relaxes under her touch.
"Your brother has a better bedside manner, I'm sure," he says.
"Now you'll be hitting on my brother," she says.
"This person," he says, and wonders if she is really as blind as she pretends.
He hates that his hands keep shaking.
.
She is afraid. Bong Soon is rarely afraid, because she has never had to be. The few times she is, it is for others. Her brother. Her best friend. And now, strangely, this CEO, with his pretty features, and his melodramatic pouting, and the way the darkness behind his eyes seems to split wide open at the most curious times.
She hates that his hands keep shaking.
"There, it's done," she says. It is a promise; one she hopes she can keep. Almost without thinking, she captures his hand in hers and presses it tight. He goes very still.
She keeps wondering, is she missing something?
Well, obviously. She was almost a second too late.
He swallows, the cords of his neck working. He looks like there is something he wants to say. There is blood on his pale skin, and his hair is tangled against his forehead.
"You broke my door," he says, at last. Which is obviously a substitution for something.
"I saved your life, you ingrate."
"Ingrate?" His eyebrows shoot up; he is all indignation again and she is glad to see that the fear has left him, even if it is only for a moment.
"I am going to call the police now," she says. She tries to stand up, but he doesn't let go of her hand.
"You can call them from here."
She frowns at him; he can be so stubborn.
"I just got stabbed. Slashed. Whatever. Aren't you my bodyguard?"
She sighs, and sits back down.