This was his fault, which— a number of things were in such situations, but in particular, this happened to be unmistakably his fault in terms of the footing. “Yah— Minki!” The younger couldn’t stop squirming in discomfort, which only thrusted another wave of worry onto the Angel who was already in a mist of distinct panic.
It wasn’t his fault that he was running down the stairs.
It wasn’t his fault that his friend was calmly walking up the same staircase.
It certainly wasn’t his fault that he’d crashed into the younger of the two, pushing him back onto the banister that just so happened to have a loose nail, successfully dragging across Minki’s left arm, a crimson streak of blood running in its wake.
It took the Angel less than a minute to rush the boy to his room, setting him firmly onto the couch before stumbling to the bathroom in hopes of finding the first-aid kit that his roommate had most likely left. Blindly reaching underneath the sink, an array of slim fingers finally gripped onto the handle of the kit, a satisfied grin upon his lips as he made his way over to the living room.
Blinking, Taemin quickly sat himself down next to the younger, flicking his shoulder.
Ignoring the other’s narrowed gaze, Taemin let out a breath, tugging Minki’s arm into his line of sight. “It… it’ll be okay soon, alright?”
Opening an alcohol pad, he began to dab it at the wound, trying his best to cause the younger as least pain as was possible. The concentration was almost palpable as his features took note to what he was doing. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he chanted, dipping a free hand into the kit to find the bandages. “Really sorry, yes. Oh my goodness Minki, does it hurt? Never mind— that was a stupid question of course it hurts. Aigoo… I’m so sorry.” All the while, he’d been wrapping the bandages around the other’s arm, carefully ripping the edge off as the success of covering every inch of the wound had finally come through. “Is… is it okay?”