This time, it was only three days before you saw him again.
You still had not been able to tell your roommate the truth. What could you have said that wouldn’t put you in a mental hospital? You played it off saying that you tripped in the kitchen, in the same sense that you had played it off saying you escaped the club through the bathroom window.
By now, your wound had almost healed completely, a mere scab in the place of a bite mark. Taking in a deep breath, you clenched your fist around the trash bag tighter as your other hand hovered above the door handle. 'It’s just the trash, (y/n), it’s just the trash.'
Upon a harsh exhale you twisted the doorknob and flung open the door, proceeding to run down the wooden steps towards the dumpster that was just down the street. The humid night air clung to your skin uncomfortably as you skipped down the steps in your slippers.
Scurrying as quickly as you could, you speed-walked to the end of the road and tossed the bag into the designated bin, turning on your heels and preparing to book it back inside. That’s when you heard it.
A groan. The noise made from someone in pain. Coming from right behind you. You clenched your fists at your sides as you slowly turned around.
Squinting in the dim light the old street lamps provided, you brought your hand up to your lips in shock as you saw someone’s leg sticking out from behind the bulking dumpster.
Slowly, you crept forwards, jumping a little as the foot twitched and the low moan sounded again, this time softer... weaker. As you rounded the corner of the dumpster, you failed to hold back your gasp.
It was him. Blood was pooling from a gaping wound on his abdomen- a wooden stake. His fingers clutched around it, slipping futilely as he attempted to pull it from where it was lodged. Before logic got the better of you, your conscience spoke, darting forwards to kneel beside him.
"Oh my god...” Your hands hovered around the wooden shard, not daring to touch for fear of making it worse. “What ha-... Who did this to you?” Before you heard a response, however, you saw the boy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing becoming severely labored.
“Oh god- oh god, oh god, oh god-” You rushed to grab his shoulders, pulling him from the trash heap he had been hiding in. Using what strength you had within you, you lifted him to his feet, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder to support his weight. “Just hang on, alright?”
Determination and panic were the sole factors that allowed you the strength to carry him up the stairs to your apartment. Blood was seeping everywhere, through everything, and you knew you had to act fast.
After struggling to unlock the door, you opened it and staggered towards the couch where you deposited the limp frame you held. Pulling his feet up onto the sofa, you examined the extent of his injury. Sweat had accumulated across his forehead, his breathing came labored.
You ran into the kitchen to wet a washcloth, hurrying back to swipe gently at the boy’s face. After setting the washcloth aside, you examined his face more closely. He was pale; deathly so, with jet black hair in stark contrast to his complexion.
Without thinking, you extended your hand to brush the bangs out of his eyes, nearly screaming as his hand flew to grip yours with inhuman speed. His eyes shot open. “Kill me... Please...” His gaze was wide and afraid. “Please... Just let me die... I deserve it, I-...”
He swallowed, pulling your hand closer. “I’m a monster.” Although you still felt fear, you met his gaze with confidence as you spoke. “You deserve to die just as much as I did back inside that club.”
His eyebrows lifted, confusion mixed in his eyes. “You saved me- spared me and hid me when I was supposed to die.” You continued, trailing off as your voice softened. “And in the alley... That man-” You bit your lip and looked away, cutting yourself off at the memory. You took a deep breath. “I may not know who, or what, you are...”
You looked up, reconnecting your gaze with his. “-But I do know that you are not a killer.” Thick silence filled the space between you.
“I... I don’t know what I am anymore.” He whispered. “My life... My humanity was taken from me... And now, I just don’t know anything anymore. Nothing, except that the moment I saw you, I knew you didn’t belong there, I couldn’t let anything happen to you. The others... The way they killed-... No... Slaughtered, dozens of people...”
The silence returned as neither of you knew what to say. It lasted for what seemed like hours before you felt the courage to speak. “Thank you.” His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and shock within them.
"Thank you, for saving my life.” “I don’t deserve such gratitude, not after what I did to you.” His face became pained. “I can never forgive myself for that.” “But I can forgive you.” He seemed to stun to speak, and you gave pause.
“Now, about this piece of wood,” You smiled weakly, turning your attention to the stake that was still lodged in his abdomen, “I know I’m no doctor, but I’ve taken a few classes and I’m positive that as long as we-” You were cut off as you felt the boy’s fingers close around your wrist.
“Baekhyun.” You turned your head to meet his intent gaze as he lay immobile on your couch, your eyes wide. “It’s Byun Baekhyun... My name.”
You sent him a gentle smile. “Well, you’ve done more than enough to assure me of one thing.” His eyebrow twitched in curiosity. “You are no monster, Byun Baekhyun.”
You saw his eyes soften just slightly, which immediately caused your heart to catch on itself. You quickly focused back on the task at hand.
"Alright, I can’t promise this will be pleasant for you,” You reached behind you on the coffee table to grab a pair of latex gloves. “But I sure as hell know that no one is going to be dying on my couch.”