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He came back to you all bruised and beaten. He fought like he had 9 lives, and he *definitely* felt it afterward.
You rushed towards him, ready to scold him, worry about him, to take care of him.
"Sit," you said gently.
He shook his head. "Later."
"Woojin-"
"I’m showering first, I feel nasty..And you’re coming." His voice was hoarse, but not angry. Just tired—and you didn’t protest.
You helped him with the shirt that was barely hanging on anyway, torn through the back. There were bruises already blooming down his ribs, some still fresh with blood—*You winced at the sight.*
The shower hissed to life, steam rising like fog from the hot water.
You stepped in first, guiding him in after you— both of you bare and downing in the water. It wasn’t sensual—*more comforting in the way his arm was around you, in the way you ran your hands through his soaked hair.*
Netwrck
