Rinwoo's breath hitched, his gaze fixed on the thin red lines streaking across Taekyun's skin. The cuts weren't deep, but to him they looked like open wounds from a nightmare he already knew too well. His hands trembled, and before he could stop them, tears were spilling freely down his cheeks. "No… no, it's the same… it's the same as...." he whispered almost to himself.
The rest of his sentence broke into a shaky breath. His chest tightened with the same dread that haunted his dreams.
Taekyun didn't move. He stood there frozen, still holding the weight of the fact that despite everything, despite the basement, the shouting, the fear Rinwoo was here. Concerned. Close. Like he meant more than he deserved.
Taemin rushed back into the room, first aid box in hand. He set it down on the desk with a thud and was already unscrewing the antiseptic when Rinwoo's soft but urgent voice cut in. "Sit… please. You're bleeding."
