you got me some type of way

ain't used to feelin' this way

I do not know what to say

but I know I shouldn't think about it

Sophia wasn't annoyed, she was fine. She'd seen men she slept with make out with other women many times before. She was absolutely not jealous of the Argentinian model that was currently sat on Han's lap, pale pink lips attached to his own. Something so incredibly juvenile wouldn't get under her skin so much. Yet here she was, trying to force her jaw to relax, and her lips to stop pursing as she patiently waited for him to notice her presence.

A coil inside her chest wound itself tightly, and was only exacerbated by the fact Twinkie was enjoying the entire debacle so much that he was openly grinning. She folded her arms to feign casualness, painfully aware of the difference of how dolled up his model was, short pink dress accentuating the length of her smooth, pale legs. Han was known for having models around him, and enjoying how much he entertained them, what may have been getting under her skin was the fact this particular model was so fucking frequently on his lap. The consistency of her presence was what annoyed her, Sophia decided.

It was Twinkie, however, who put her out of her misery by loudly clearing his throat. The sound, though almost drowned out by the music and loud chatter, was successful in drawing out the attention of his boss. Han took a moment to draw back from the model, his face void of any surprise nor apprehension as took in Sophia. His expression held no indication of his thoughts, but he knew he was in deep shit. Sophia had never appeared to be the type to share.

As she took a step forward, she dropped a yellow parcel into his hands. 'Tell your business partner that his uncle needs him to take care of that, and to answer his phone. I'm not a fucking messenger.'

She turned before she could see him nod in confirmation, walking back down the stairs to head to her car. Han pinched the bridge of his nose imperceptibly, before easing Milena off of his lap, and standing.

'Sophia,' he drawled, and his tone did nothing but grate on her nerves as she pulled open her car door. 'Come on.'

Steeling herself, she turned around to face him. To anyone else, she would have appeared bored, almost if Han's presence was a nuisance. He knew her better than that, though, and the the tenseness in her shoulders indicated how irritated she was. As well as her dark eyes staring so steadily into his own; she always met confrontation willingly.

'She's just a model.' He hated the fact he was explaining himself, he'd never had to before. 'It's not like we've ever talked about-'

'It's better this way, actually. We were getting too obvious. Keep her.'

She left him standing there as she got in the car, forcing him to take a step back as she shut the car door. He decided that he'd let her cool off for a day or two, she was easier to talk to when she wasn't so hot headed. It would also give him some time to figure out exactly what he needed to say.

This was why he hated being in anything remotely serious.

Han had barely managed to hold out for more than a day, though he wouldn't admit it. The fact was that he and Sophia had built a regular enough routine that when it was disturbed it felt mildly disorientating. So he headed to her apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning, the sky still dark, after spending the evening at the races.

The trail of blood was first noticed on the handle of her car door, and drops of it littered the floor the entire way to her apartment. Her front door was smeared with it, and alarm coursed through him as his repeated knocks went unanswered. Standing outside, he pulled out his phone, dialling her number. Sophia answered on the fourth ring.

'What happened?' He asked, not giving her a chance to utter a greeting.

'Is that you knocking? I can't get to the door right now, I'm indisposed.' Her voice was stiff, almost strained and evidently in pain. 'Go to the concierge, ask for my spare key. Keep me on the phone.'

Doing as he was instructed, Han remained silent as he listened to her heavy breathing while in the elevator. It wasn't ideal, but it at least indicated she was conscious enough to be giving out orders. He passed the phone to the night shift concierge, a young male who looked bored as hell. He smiled into the phone, recognising Sophia's voice, and nodded in confirmation at whatever she had instructed him to do.

He rummaged around behind his desk for a few moments, before producing a single silver key and handing it over to Han. Hanging up the phone, he finally looked at him.

'She said you can keep it for now.'

Han fished a hand in his pocket to pull out a small roll of bills. 'There's a mess outside of her apartment, and in the parking lot. Get it cleaned up.'

The concierge seemed to understand what 'mess' Han was alluding too, and nodded in confirmation before taking the money. 'Yes, sir.'

He found her in her bathroom, which was in her bedroom. Sprawled on the tiled floor with her first aid kit open, midway through stitching the skin around her collarbone. He'd seen this much blood before, so the state of her covered in it didn't particularly alarm him, it was the fact that the bleeding wasn't stopping.

'I have an exit wound on the other side,' she panted, 'I'm gonna need you to stitch it up for me.'

He shrugged off his hoodie, throwing it onto her mattress before reentering the bathroom. His socks absorbed the blood that smeared against the floor as he crouched down, he'd have to wash his clothes before leaving. Pushing down her good arm, he took the small needle and threading from her shaking fingers. Beads of sweat collated on her forehead and upper lip. Sophia kept blinking repeatedly as if she was forcing away the fatigue, biting her bottom lip as the needle pierced her skin again.

'What happened?' He asked again, voice low as he concentrated on her wound.

She torn her tank top at the strap to expose her left shoulder, and it revealed her breast. Nothing was sexual within that moment, but she looked the smallest she had ever been. Vulnerable, though she had little choice in the matter, it was active decision to let Han see her like this. She wanted him there.

'A job that wen't mildly wrong. It's not as bad as it looks.' She reassured. 'I've had worse.'

She leaned against the closed lid of her toilet seat, descending into silence as he worked at stitching her gunshot wound. As they switched sides, her head began to droop, and she leaned her forehead into the crook of her good elbow, the blood was beginning to dry, congealing all over her shoulder blade.

Han cleaned around the wound, clearing the skin of any dirt with antiseptic, before he nudged her.

'Let's get you cleaned up.' He said softly, his hand lingering on her back in gentle coercion.

Before she stood, he moved to her bathtub, plugging it to fill the water. Sophia didn't question any of his actions as he gently lifted her from her waist, placing her on the closed toilet seat to begin pulling off her clothing. Every touch was gentle, his movements meticulous in fluidity as to not aggravate her wounds. When he pulled off her tank top, his dark eyes cast over the heavy bruising already forming around her ribs. She'd be lucky if nothing was broken, he reasoned, but he'd make sure she didn't move much over the next week in order to ensure nothing was damaged.

As the mirror in her bathroom began to steam up, the air became hot. Sophia hissed in pain as he pulled her jeans down to her ankles. He stopped instantly, kneeling in closer to grip the heel of her foot softly, pulling the jeans over her foot as slowly as he could. His hands traced around her right ankle, skimming the skin and feeling the rigidness of her leg as he did so.

'You might have sprained it.' He commented. 'Don't put any pressure on it.'

Han was tall but skinny, and so at times Sophia forgot the strength he possessed. He lifted her without much thought, and eased her into the hot water. Her body instantly relaxed as the heat soothed her skin, and her hand gripped the edge of her bathtub as she settled into it. He continued to work in silence as Sophia drew her knees to her chest, resting her cheek atop her kneecaps. He wet the sponge across her back, avoiding the newly stitched and wrapped wound at the top of her shoulder blade.

The act was calming, gentle, and the most intimate Han had ever been with her. She cracked an eye open. her gaze facing his, his brows only subtly furrowed in concentration as he softly scrubbed the blood off of her bad arm.

'I don't want to sleep with anyone else.' She whispered softly, and Han halted in his actions.

He looked at her, eyes void of any indication of what he may have been thinking in that moment. His wet hand reached for her hair, smoothing the wet strands back and away from her face.

'Neither do I.'

He spent the next two weeks at her place.

I really really loved writing this, I have so many fluffy scenes of them in my head ready to write. It will get a bit cutesy from here, as this was a pinnacle moment for them in their relationship. It's not long now until we reach the events of Tokyo Drift.

Hope you guys are enjoying, please review if you can. They really motivate me. x