DBSK...

May 02, 2008 23:45

 
Part 4: My Hero, My Savior

After eating leftovers, I got out my first-aid kit and began taking care of my cuts and bruises. If only JunSu Oppa was here to help me instead of me being all alone…Just when I thought that, I heard a knock on the door. I put a band aid on one of my numerous cuts and limped to the door. I was shocked to see JaeJoong Oppa at the door. What’s he doing here?!?! Not that it was a bad thing, but still! This is pretty…random. o_0??

“Chang Yoon-ah-I mean Jang Mi-ah! What happened? Did Yami really beat you up like JunSu said??” JaeJoong Oppa asked.

I sighed. So much for keeping a secret…

“Yea, he did. Don’t you think these cuts and bruises make great evidence of his acts of brutality and black-mailing? ­Or can you still not believe me?” I asked in my normal, yet still deep voice. I cleared my voice, trying to sound more feminine.

“Come in.” I stepped aside, letting JaeJoong Oppa come into my premises.

He stared at everything, probably taking in all of its smelly and messiness. I plopped down onto my couch, and went back to healing my cuts. He sat in front of me, took the antiseptic and began wiping my cuts clean. I winced from the stings, but it was nice he was so caring. Wonder why JunSu Oppa’s not here if HE’S the one that rescued me from Yami? OH. Yami! *lols in her mind* Guess Oppa forgot to unlock that door…0_0’’ *gulps* But he probably got out by now…I didn’t notice JaeJoong Oppa staring at me.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset that JunSu told me about who you really are?” He asked in that deep, gentle voice of his.

“No…it’s just…JunSu Oppa locked Yami in the shower room….I’m just wondering if he ever got out…” I swallow in a futile attempt to wet my dry throat.

“Ugh. JunSu forgets everything! I bet he escaped and left this whole city…If he didn’t, I’ll personally make sure he DOES.” He grunts.

There was a long silence as he kept on cleaning my wounds. He got up and got a small bag of ice wrapped in a small towel. He gently dabbed at my bruises, especially the ones on my face. I closed my eyes to stop seeing his beautifully steady eyes on mine, never unwavering in that bold way of his. It was kind of funny how he kept on staring at my injured hands and my weird looking toes. I laughed awkwardly to break the on-going silence.

“Why do you keep glancing at my hands and feet?” I asked.

“I hate seeing such beautiful hands and feet ruined like this. I’m totally gonna kick Yami’s ass.” He growled.

“Too late. JunSu Oppa already did. But I’ll let you have a hit or few at him.” I laughed.

“I’ll have a few hundred hits at him, and then YunHo’s next. Then YooChun, and finally ChangMin.” He joked back.

I chuckled and stared into those deep, nearly-hazel eyes. I studied his physical features closely, taking in his pouty lips, his straight nose, his high cheeks, and those eyes. Those gorgeous, breath-taking-

You’re not my child. Where the hell did this thought come from?

You’re not mine. This is why I hate you so much. You cost me my life in Korea and a chance to have a perfect life. Your brother and mother are all I need. Why did you have to be born and ruin my life?!?!

I gasped. These weren’t thoughts. These words were what my “father”(man who unkindly raised me) shouted at me during one of his drunken rants during my high school years.

Your real father’s name is *Han Sung Joong.

Mother said this after he passed out from all the alcohol. My father. My biological father’s name. But why did these words just pop up in my head now?

“What’s wrong? You look so worried all of a sudden.” His sincere concern melted those random thoughts away.

“It’s nothing. Just remembering old memories of my family.”

“Ah, so how’s your brother? Before I left practice, I picked up your phone when he called. He didn’t seem so excited to talk to me…” He seemed troubled.

“Don’t worry. My brother’s just stupid and weird like that. Half the time when he talks w/ our Asian friends I don’t even know what they’re saying. They have their own language consisting of gibberish and inside jokes. You’d think they’re high or drunk or something.” I reassured him.

“Or both?” He suggested.

“Or both.” I concurred, laughing and nodding my head. We talked for a few hours, joking and fooling around gently (I’m injured, remember?) JaeJoong Oppa agreed to keep my identity secret from the others, unless JunSu Oppa opened that big mouth of his.

The swelling went down quite a bit. JunSu saved me, but JaeJoong healed me… Oh what to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Han Sung Joong is a made up name, it is not real…unless someone has that but I don’t know anyone who does so…yea…
Previous post Next post
Up