#5-8

the subtle yellow light casted a shadow over him.

“not really. just tired” he sighed, turning around.

you entered the ring a little clumsily and he walked up to help you. his strong, hoarse, and a little sweaty hand pulled you in. you bumped into his chest.

“tired? i thought the 5-8 never gets tired” you teased and he just menacingly pressed your face further into him. you snickered and smacked his arm, shuffling away to rest your chin and look up at him.

“that brat, sawol, will tire out everyone. trust me. i’ll be the one laughing when you meet him” he smiled softly. he knew it was just a matter of time.

you stepped back and looked at him.

“and you? how was your day?” your fiancé asked, reaching for a towel that was hung over nearby.

“it was boring. missed my baby, worried sick about him. i made us some dinner if you’re coming over to my place” you said but it sounded more like a question. 5-8 often had to sleep in the dormitory.

he hummed in thought. it sounded tempting: he haven’t been seeing you much lately. not to mention when he ate your food and not that microwaved shit they serve at the canteen.

and to fall asleep with you in his arms…

“hm? i know you’re thinking about it” you grinned, softly jabbing at his chest. “come over, pleaaaase”

but he had to get up to work early. sleeping in his dorm meant directly going to work. and from your place… he would have to get up. early.

“i’ll drop you off” you added, poking his side.

he didn’t budge, obviously.

“you’re a minx, you know that?” he clicked his tongue, watching you.

“aaand i’ll scratch your back” you hummed, hand sneaking to smack him.

5-8 blocked your obnoxiously obvious attack and sighed in disbelief.

“and you’re too good at that” he muttered. you continued to try to wrestle him.

“at what?”

“convincing”

5-8 suddenly swooped you, throwing you on his arm. with a shriek, you continuously smacked his back.

“come on. want me to come over, fight me” he laughed and you just huffed.

“that’s just not fair. you know i don’t know how” with a whine, you kicked your feet. “put me down and i’ll show you!”

“yeah?”

you started regretting those words the second he began to put you back on the ground.

“you’re not taking this seriously” you huffed dramatically, seeing his amused face.

“oh, my bad. i should?” 5-8 asked.

you took the defensive stance, tightening your fists. you didn’t know how to fight but you sure did spend countless of hours watching your fiancé train.

5-8 rose his eyebrows, crossing his toned arms.

you swung your fist towards his chest but he ducked effortlessly. this continued for a couple of attacks when you decided to change your approach.

you loosened your stance and started circling around him.

“giving up already?” he followed you with his eyes, slowly turning his head.

suddenly you jumped at him, trusting him fully to catch you.

and, obviously, he did.

in an instant you wrapped your legs around his waist, like a snake. your arms locked behind his neck and before he could throw an ironic remark, you kissed him.

5-8 left a small sigh of relief, as if he was waiting for this the whole time. his hands held you strongly, not even a single muscle twitching. he knew his hands were made for holding you.

“you didn’t specify…” you murmured, leaning slightly away. your hair tickled his face “… what kind of fight”

5-8 scoffed and closed the gap between you two, chasing after your lips. easily making his way to your tongue, he let you play your games.

when out of breath, you pulled away. he grinned, collecting his breathing too.

“so? did i win?” asking with a grin, you tangled your fingers in his hair.

“well, i decided to cave in the second you offered” he shrugged. with a huff, you smacked his back playfully.

m.list <3

kdrama taglist. @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @planetkiimchi ,,

It was the end of the work day for couriers, the hazy desert sun beginning to set just as everyone was pulling their trucks back into the Cheonmyeong Distribution Center. Everyone, except for you, that is.

Despite your efforts to finish all of the deliveries for your route on time, you couldn’t help the fact that a group of hunters set you back about thirty minutes. You didn’t even get to eat lunch, hunger gnawing at you as you finally delivered your last package to an upset customer. 

Eventually, you made it back to CM and parked, feeling eyes on you as you climbed down from the driver’s seat and pushed the door shut. You fixed your gaze on the wheel well coated in dirt and adjusted the straps of your gear, prolonging the inevitability of being reprimanded once again.

You knew the moment you turned around, 5-8 would be on your case. You hadn’t seen him when you pulled in, but you knew he was there. He always was. 

After several moments, you decided that you couldn’t keep pretending to be inspecting your truck and pivoted on a heel to make your leave. You nonchalantly took your hat off, patting your hair down without interacting with anyone around you.

People always lingered in the garage when their shifts were over. But for some reason, it was like there was an audience waiting specifically for you to arrive late and get yelled at today. 

Having made it halfway up the stairs and to the locker room, you thought you might have been in the clear. Just a few more steps, and you’d be out of sight. Though, you weren’t lucky often, and certainly not on days like this one that had been lousy from the get go. 

“2-6,” you heard your name called from behind you. It stopped you dead in your tracks, all hope of making a quiet escape lost. With an impatient tone, 5-8 added, “Come here.” 

This wasn’t the first time you were late, not even the first time this month at that. And as with any time 5-8 spoke, everyone gave him their attention. It wasn’t long until their focus shifted to you, unmoving from your place with one leg positioned on the next step.

You took in their stares before your sight landed on where he and 7-3 stood. The look he gave you was a serious one, as always, making eye contact for a few seconds while you contemplated what to do next.

That same gaze never failed to intimidate you, but it also made your cheeks burn and heart race. Part of you wanted to stare him down and make him just as uncomfortable as he made you. But you ended up turning away, unable to process the mixed emotions he constantly stirred up.  

You didn’t appreciate how 5-8 drew attention to your tardiness, or his lack of understanding for the rough day you had. Your busted eyebrow spoke for itself, dried blood caked on the side of your face since the incident with the hunters earlier. Not to mention your UV glasses had been broken during the fight, which unsurprisingly left you with a bit of a headache. 

All to say, you were tired. You didn’t have the energy to engage, and you definitely weren’t about to have the whole fleet watch whatever was bound to unfold. So against your better judgment, you ignored 5-8 and trudged up the rest of the stairs.

A chorus of amused laughter and murmuring about your defiance echoed throughout the garage and followed you till you made it inside the secluded locker room. 

Immediately, you pulled a duffel bag out of the storage locker, setting it on the bench to shed layers of your uniform and toss pieces of gear inside. One by one, your uneaten lunch became buried. Then, you headed over to one of the sinks, watching the water run red as you rubbed the side of your face. 

The previously dull pain was now sharp as you cleaned the wounds, but the abrupt opening of the door down the hall somewhat distracted you from the sting. Heavy steps were closing in as you dabbed at the blood with a towel. Obviously, you knew who they belonged to before his presence was officially made known through the reflection of the mirror. 

5-8 said nothing at first, only observing as you awkwardly tried to position a butterfly stitch on your brow without adhering too much of it near your eyelid. Once you settled on a placement, he finally decided to speak.

“You know Ms. Jeong orders oxygen every Friday and files a complaint if we’re even a minute late on delivery.” He was well aware, as she was a particularly stubborn customer on his previous route.

With a heavy sigh, you responded, “I can’t choose the day of the week the hunters decide they want to cause trouble. I apologized to her. Twice,” you added. Now that the consequences of ignoring him caught up to you, you found you were only able to look at 5-8 through the mirror. “I’ll start early tomorrow to make up for it.” 

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Then, I’ll come in anyway,” you huffed again, trying to maneuver around the large man so you could finish packing your things. You zipped the duffel and shrugged on your personal jacket, movements slowing gradually as you came to a realization. 

“How did you know I was planning to take tomorrow off? Last time I came to you with a request, you told me to go to management because you ‘weren’t a schedule coordinator’.” You quoted him with your fingers, arms then dropping to your sides.

He didn’t answer to your expectant look right away, racking his brain for a plausible cover. After all, he didn’t want to admit that he regularly checked when you would be working for his own peace of mind. 

“Well,” he began as he inserted his hands into his pockets. “I heard there’s a chance for tornadoes this weekend. We usually get an uptick in orders before bad weather. Wanted to check and make sure we had a reliable fleet scheduled for the next few days.”

“Must have been glad to not see my name on the roster then, huh?” You scoffed, throwing the duffel strap over your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay home-”

“No, I want you here,” 5-8 interjected almost too quickly.

Confused by the way he contradicted himself, you harshly responded with, “Which is it? A minute ago you were opposed to me coming in on my day off. Now, you’re saying you want me here. Pick one and let me go home.”

The thing about 5-8 was that anything he was dealt, he would give right back. And while he could understand you were tired, it didn’t excuse the attitude you continued to give him. 

“You think you deserve a day off?” He asked, his tone just as severe as yours. He had intended to be firm and get some respect out of you, but ended up striking a nerve instead. A vague pain was visible in your expression, and he came to regret not thinking about his words carefully enough before he said them to you.

“Not really,” you replied, shame beginning to sink in. “But if you want a reliable fleet, that probably shouldn’t include me.”

“I never said you weren’t reliable,” he countered, sensing that the dialogue was becoming increasingly tense.

It always was that way between the two of you. Whether there were underlying emotions within that tension, he couldn’t be sure. He knew how he truly felt about you, but had no way of knowing if you were also masking your feelings with hostility. You just hadn’t been able to get along in the year since you had joined the team. 

“You don’t have to say it.” You raised your voice slightly, starting to feel overcome with vehemence.

“Every day, I see disappointment when you look at me. I hear it in your voice. I know that I’m late sometimes and that I make mistakes. I know I’m not perfect or as strong as others, like 4-1. I don’t need you to tell me that I’m not reliable because trust me, I know.” Your voice started off strong, but it gradually shrank as your eyes flitted to the floor.

5-8 felt his chest tighten at your self deprecation. 

“When I see you smile at 4-1, I feel like I’m going to go crazy. I don’t know why it bothers me so much,” you paused, brows knitting together as you worked through reasoning in your head. “I used to think it was because I wanted to be like her. But I think deep down, I just wish you would smile at me like that.”

You wanted him to want you. 

By your careful words and soft hesitation, he was starting to make out that your feelings went beyond a professional level. He was reading between the lines, but it seemed you weren’t comprehending the real meaning behind 5-8’s issue with you being late.

It was not so much about disappointing the customers as it was about him worrying for your safety.

Any time you were late, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were in a situation where you needed help. Much like today, he wouldn’t even take his weapons or gear out of his truck until you had returned. Radio in hand, awaiting your signal, he wanted to be sure you didn’t need him. 

Though now that you were meekly standing in front of him, your words spiteless and vulnerable, he realized that you needed him in a much different way. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt this… competition with 4-1,” he said, tone softening a bit. “It’s just that I don’t worry about her like I worry about you.” In receiving his apology, he watched your face fall, noticing you had taken that the wrong way.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, or strong. You’ve always held your own. But I worry because I just can’t imagine anything happening to you,” he explained.

“What?” you asked breathlessly. It was a slight shock to hear that coming from him, or anyone for that matter. Having lived in the slums until somewhat recently, no one had ever concerned themselves with your existence, let alone your well-being.

5-8 stepped closer to you, a gentle hand reaching to cradle your bruised cheek. He searched your eyes for a reason not to say what he was thinking, expecting to find hurt and anger like before. But, all he found was longing and adoration staring back at him.

He was sure now that you felt something for him too.

“You’re the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person when I go to sleep. I think about you when I eat, wondering if you’ve eaten too. All I do is worry about you.” Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, nervously wringing your fingers together as he continued, “I know we get on each other’s nerves, but I hope you can understand that I’ve never looked down on you, not once.”

“You… I-I’m…” You didn’t know what to say, his proximity and warm touch making you blush. 

For all of this time, you tried to suppress your desire by convincing yourself that 5-8’s legendary status was superficial in some way. You searched for reasons to dislike him so you wouldn’t have to give him the satisfaction. But you were finally facing the facts. 

There was no denying his charm, no matter how annoying he was to you sometimes. He truly was the best of the best: a strong, natural born leader with a selfless soul. He was what everyone loved him for and everything that you loved. 

As you came to terms with your feelings, 5-8 could tell that you were flustered. And for the first time, he smiled at you. At least, this was the first time that you actually witnessed it. It was a genuine smile full of care and comfort, instantly putting you at ease. 

The corners of your mouth lifted too, eyes shining with relief as he pulled you into him more with his other hand on your waist. You looked up at him, no longer feeling intimidated by the way he towered over you. You felt safe.

With 5-8 holding you like this, it was wildly different than any interaction you had prior to now. But you didn’t want him to let go, not ever. Your excitement only grew as his face inched closer to yours, and your eyes fluttered closed in anticipation of what you thought was surely coming next.

“You didn’t really think I would kiss you at work?” he teased. His mouth was hovering just over yours, a sly grin playing on his lips as your eyes shot open in disbelief. 

Embarrassed, you shuffled backward and mumbled, “Never mind. I still hate you.”

He chuckled, leaving a quick consolation peck on your head before saying, “Go eat something. I know you haven’t yet. Rest for a while and come to the gym later. I’ll wait for you.”

Next Chapter >

A scream resonated not too far away, your grip on your gun tightened as you raised it in the direction of the noise. Worry was crushing your chest, you felt so close to throwing up. That scream sounded too much like Sawol. Taking a few careful steps towards the scream, you suddenly saw a few shadows appearing through the thickness of the storm.  They seemed to be fighting and it seemed to be five against one, five hunters against your friend. Your running came to a sudden stop when you saw the lone shadow get hit and fall to the ground. 

‘’SAWOL!’’ you screamed, afraid of the worse.

The hunters’s shadow turned in your direction at your shout, but you were already raising your weapon and firing away at them, rage disrupting your usually soft traits. It didn’t take you long to take care of the five shadows, watching them fall rapidly one after the other each time you shot. You had always been an incredible shot, that was your strength. Being a delivery woman, you knew you needed more than to know how to fight with your fist to survive. You were strong, yes, but there would always be a bigger enemy and that’s why you trained more than anyone with every weapon available to you, and guns were your choice of preference, always. 

After observing the lack of movements from the downed hunters, you rushed to Sawol’s immobile body.

You fell to your knees next to him and held his head, calling his name repeatedly. His lack of response was worrying, but after looking for a pulse, you felt your entire body relax with relief. He wasn’t dead, only unconscious. You searched for his wounds, only to find the back of his head bleeding. If he hadn't been a mutant, you would’ve been extremely scared, but having already survived being shot in the head, you felt safe to assume he would be more than fine. 

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed a hold of him and tried to lift him. He was truly heavy and it took you a lot of effort to get yourself as straight as possible. You slowly carried him back to the truck, taking a painful amount of time, as you breathed heavily from the effort it was taking you. Inhaling an insane amount of dust by doing so. 

Getting Sawol’s unconscious body back in the truck took you an awful amount of time. By the time you were done, you could barely breathe. You hadn’t had any clean oxygen in too long, mixed in with the dust, you felt like your lungs were on fire. You weren’t really aware of how you made it back to the hangar, feeling on the verge of passing out any seconds, you uncontrollable fits of cough probably being the only thing keeping you awake. 

As soon as you stopped the truck, you kicked your door open, but couldn’t control your loss of balance due to your weakness and crashed hard on the concrete floor. Your vision was blurry, you felt your name being screamed and strong arms wrapping themself around you. You grabbed onto their shirt, coughing loudly, managing to breath out Sawol’s name before passing out.

- - - - -

5-8’s eyes widened as he caught your truck rushing through the hangar dangerously fast. You brusquely came to halt a few meters from where he had been supposedly cleaning his truck for the last hour, looking for an excuse to wait for your arrival with Sawol. 

Curious of your panicked entrance, 5-8 felt his worry raise. He started walking in your truck’s direction, only to see you falling from your seat and hitting the floor heavily. Panicked, 5-8 ran to your side, yelling your name. He grabbed onto you, lifting your head to face his. The man felt his heart drop at the sight of your wounded face. Your eyes were bloodshot and quite literally crying tears of blood. Your whole face was full of open wounds from the sand slashing at your face, blood bleeding out of your nose as well as surrounding your mouth from all the heavy coughing you had gone through. 

‘’Y/N… Y/N can you hear me?’’

You didn’t answer him immediately and tried, unsuccessfully, to focus your eyes on him. 

‘’Sawol..’’

5-8 had barely heard you by how hoarse your voice sounded, but still understood. He blinked in confusion, suddenly realizing he had forgotten about his young protege at your pitiful sight, he gave a quick glance around him, seeing a few delivery men rushing over.

‘’Kid’s still in the truck, take him to the infirmary.’’ he instructed them. 

They nodded and rushed to Sawol’s side. 5-8 turned his attention back to you, feeling his heart drop when he realized you had fully closed your eyes and looked unconscious. 

“Y/N..? Y/N wake up!”

Tightening his hold around your shoulders, he placed his free arm under your legs and picked you up. 5-8 carefully made his way to the infirmary, keeping a strong hold on you. Your head was pressed against his chest, directly above his heart, making it resonate even louder inside of him. 

A painful moan escaped your lips, you seemed to have gained consciousness again but hadn’t opened your eyes yet. 5-8 was honestly wondering if the loud beating of his heart woke you up. He looked down at you, your face distorted by pain. 5-8 bit his lips and started walking a little faster than before.

‘’Lay her there.’’  4-1 ordered him as he entered the small infirmary. 

He slowly laid you down on a cold metallic table, making sure to carefully put your head down on it. 5-8 barely realized his hands lingering on you, until 4-1 pushed him aside, resulting in a strange coldness on his fingers, already missing the warmth of your touch. He stumbled backwards, anxious by his own inability to be of any help in your recovery. He stared silently at you while 4-1 slid an oxygen mask on your face. A sudden coughing fit took you, making you sit up. 5-8 took a few shy steps towards you, wanting to help, but 4-1 just pushed him out of the room. 

‘’Your staring is annoying and you're in the way, make yourself busy elsewhere. ’’ she said harshly but with a glint of warmth in your eyes. ‘’She’ll be fine.’’

She slammed the door right in front of him, leaving 5-8 feeling extremely confused. He blinked a few times, trying to get his thoughts back in order, and slowly walked back to your truck. The only thing he seemed to be able to do to help in the moment was taking care of your truck. He climbed in and moved it into your designated parking lot. 

Even after being done, 5-8 couldn't seem to be able to remove his hands from the steering wheel. He was gripping it tightly, looking straight into the void in front of him, completely lost in his thoughts. 

What had just happened? 

He gripped his shirt, feeling his blood pumping strongly. 

What were those feelings? 5-8 had always been so calm, had always managed to keep a stable grip on his emotions, keeping him in constant control of his actions. But when he saw you falling off your truck, your face crimson red from all the blood, he just lost it. He didn’t even think of Sawol until you called his name and felt ashamed at the realization. 

There was one thing 5-8 truly hated, and it was to lose his ability to control himself, unconsciously, he had always been aware of your ability to make him lose his calm, and he hated it. This was the main reason why he found you so annoying, why he never wanted to talk or even think about you. This was the foundation of his hatred for you. But he would never admit it, nor what those kinds of feelings might actually mean. 5-8 closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He chased away his thoughts, not enjoying the rush of uncontrollable feelings it brought him and, and regained his usual emotionless state of mind. 

As he opened the door, ready to jump down the truck, his eyes caught on your notes, safely tucked in the door’s net holder. 

Without thinking, 5-8 reached for it, not able to resist the temptation. He opened it carefully, as if it was a precious relic and observed every page, one after the other, without being able to stop himself even though guilt logged itself in his stomach. His curiosity was way stronger. He had dreamed of laying eyes on those notes ever since Sawol had told him about your research. 

5-8 couldn’t believe it, he honestly didn’t know what to think of it. Not really knowing what to do, he closed your notes, putting them back to where they belong. Still in shock, he mindlessly walked back to the infirmary.

His fingers slid across the pages full of charcoal. He liked the feeling, it was rougher than the pages of the books he had scavenged over the years, the paper of your notes were thicker, they felt nice under his touch. He truly understood why you cared so much about this book, yes it was your notes, it was months of your for you, but the book in itself was an antiquity, a precious treasure of forgotten times. Everything was screens now, they didn’t produce paper anymore, and when your pages would be filled, you’d have to look for a new one yourself.

5-8 didn’t know how long he stared at it, flipping through each page one by one. He read every note you wrote, admiring how detailed you were, calculating the percentage of pollution and warmth produced by the sun. He found himself enjoying the small doodles you had made all around. At first they were mostly your equipment and probably the landscape around the rooftop you went to. But then he saw some portraits here and there, mostly you Sawol, which made him smile. Sawol smiling brightly or sleeping on the ground. There were some other delivery men as well as sketches of trucks and some decent looking places in the hangar. When he reached an empty page, 5-8 unconsciously flipped through the rest of the book, making sure he didn’t miss anything else. He stopped himself near the end of your notes seeing a few pages darkened by the brush of your pencil.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he opened the first page filled with drawings hiding at the end of your book. They were all drawings of him, pages filled with frozen moments of his life. He admired himself, painted with a smile on his face, saw himself boxing with a punching bag, cleaning his truck, giving instructions during some of their secret meetings. Many of the drawings were just of his face in many expressions. 5-8 felt warm, incredibly warm. He had difficulty breathing and tried unzipping the top of his vest, barely succeeding from how much his hands were shaking. He had completely forgotten about any precious thoughts of changing the weird feelings he felt towards you into hatred and annoyance. All he could think about right now was his heart beating so loudly he thought it might explode, and the fact that you had been watching him, drawing him. 

- - - - -

Painkillers numbed every part in your body, you didn’t feel much of anything anymore, except for the burning of your eyes and your throat. 4-1 had left some time ago, saying you were fine, but that the sand had irritated your mouth, nose and eyes until they bled, and that your lack of clean oxygen was probably what had made you pass out in the end. There wasn’t much else she could do to help you, only time could heal your wounds now. You had been relieved when she told you Sawol was fine, that he had only passed out from the hit he had received behind the head, but that he’d probably wake up soon. She then had left you alone in the room with his sleeping body. 

You climbed down the table slowly, your head throbbing from pain, and made your way next to Sawol, grabbing a chair and placing it next to his bed. You sat there a while, holding his hand and waiting. 

The infirmary door suddenly opened behind you, making you jump in surprise. Hand pressed against your chest, you took a deep breath when you saw 5-8 standing in the doorway. He had scared the hell out of you. He raised an eyebrow at you, in a quiet request to come in. You nodded in response, not really surprised that 5-8 had come back, he was probably worried about Sawol. 

But you didn’t feel ready to face the man, not when the memory of his strong arms holding and carefully bringing you to the infirmary filled your mind. After seeing him again, your thoughts were uncontrollably filled with him, you remembered his warmth and the feeling of his heart beating against your head.

The more you thought about it, and the more what 4-1 had told you sounded wrong. You hadn’t passed out from the lack of clean oxygen, you had passed from being in 5-8’s arms. Feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks, you turned your attention back to the sleeping beauty next to you, hiding your flustered expression to the man entering the room.

You watched from the corner of your sight as 5-8 walked around Sawol’s table until he stopped near his head. You watched silently as he delicately placed his hand at the top of Sawol’s head and gently caressed his hair. 

“How is he?” 

Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing his deep voice. You lifted your eyes to meet him, but when you opened your mouth to answer him, no sound came out of it, only a hoarse attempt to work ‘’Fine’’. You coughed loudly, and 5-8 quickly interrupted you before you could try again.

“Rest your voice, it’s fine.’’ he reassured you. ‘’It’s probably gonna take a lot more than whatever happened to kill this kid.’’

You felt a chuckle attempting to escape your lips, only to come out as another set of coughs. You groaned, face twisted with pain. 

 5-8 brows furrowed as he looked at you, an unusual warmth in his eyes. 

‘’Sorry…’’ he smiled softly. 

Your eyes widened at the sight, was he smiling… at you?

Feeling your heart beating furiously, you didn’t know what to do nor where to look to try and hide your reddening face. You didn’t know how to deal with this, was he kind to you only because of your state at the moment? This was unusual. You know how to deal with his annoying remarks, you were good at feeling annoyed at him as soon as he addressed you. You were also extremely good at observing him from afar, since the man was annoyingly handsome and quite satisfying to draw. But the moments of calm and joy you observed from him were usually not directed towards you and you didn’t have to deal with that heartstopper of a smile, not like you did at the moment. And you couldn’t help but love the way he softly smiled at you, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t identify. And you couldn’t help yourself but hope he’d smile at you again and again and again…

You shook your head, trying desperately to chase away  the flush of your cheeks and come back to reality. 5-8 was looking at Sawol, he seemed lost in thoughts as well. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the pain of doing so. 

‘’I… I’m sorry.’’

You knew those words were yours, but they were said in a voice far from yours, it was strange hearing yourself talk like this, and it definitely did not feel good. 5-8 looked at you confused, the expression on his face clearly asking you for more details.

‘’I-it’s my fau-fault he got hurt. I sh-should’ve be-’’

‘’Stop it…’’ he interrupted you more harshly than he would’ve wanted. ‘’You need to rest your throat.’’

You frowned, wanting to explain yourself, but he continued, surprising you with the softness of his words.

‘’Plus, Sawol is a grown man and a certified Delivery man, he’s more than able to defend himself. It could’ve happen to anyone.’’

5-8 stood up before you could even try to add anything else.  He silently walked to the door, your eyes following him with every step. He opened the door, ready to leave, but stopped himself in his tracks and locked back at you from above his shoulder.

‘’Take some few days off, you need some rest.’’ 

You felt your heart burst into your chest as you watched him rapidly exit the room. you could swear you had seen some colors on his face.