Four Times He Did & One Time He Didn’t
obsjihye:
...
“Appa, do you have some unopened packets of underwear or something? Having Seokjin-ssi get dressed before wrapping the bandages seems silly.”
Ji Hye set the clothes down near the mortar bowl and pestle she had used earlier, and let her eyes roam the clinic until she found a familiar table holding some rolls of gauze and other necessary tools.
( @obsjihye )
This entire situation is more embarrassing than Seokjin would like to admit. After all, this place is rather familiar to him. His reason for showing up here though is less than honorable; if only Seokjin had been watching carefully or if that little brat hadn’t run out on his own, then this experience would never have been lived through. What’s done is done though, and Seokjin sticks to that thought, feeling more grateful that someone was here to help. It’s not every day that he’ll get stampeded in a riot though, and that’s enough to help Seokjin breathe just a little easier. The embarrassment exists in Seokjin’s mind, though after careful consideration, is not as prominent as it needs to be, really. There was that one time that Seokjin had tripped between the gap of a train and it’s platform, and the footage of him tripping was on a “CCTV Fails - FUNNIEST FAILS EVER” video because of how he’d spun around trying to catch himself. Yes, that was definitely more embarrassing than being naked on a doctor’s medical bench. Maybe.
At the mention of his name, Seokjin drags a breath into his lungs and turns his head only slightly to look over his shoulder (still very much aching, despite the good treatment that’s been done to it). He manages to throw a peace sign, despite how tired his body is.
There are probably odd things smeared on his body here and there, and the taste of blood in his mouth hasn’t gone away, no matter how many times he swallows his own saliva. He thinks that maybe he must’ve fallen and bit his tongue to make this happen, but it has to be the least of his worries at the moment. Though he’s covered in a sheet as well, Seokjin shivers from the cold of the room. Or the cold from losing some blood. Both ought to do it. “Sorry for…” He trails, voice scratchy, as he lazily gestured to himself, the messy table, and the entire room in general.
Some things simply can’t be helped, such as: when a foo dog is bleeding profusely and collapses at the door of a medic’s place, the environment in which the foo dog falls is bound to become dirtied in some way. As long as this whole thing doesn’t stain Seokjin’s very fluffy and well maintained tail, then he’ll be okay. Seokjin is willing to come by and clean up the mess he’s made, at a later date when his shoulder isn’t aching to be chopped off.
“I should be okay,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not… in the position to ask much.”
