𝟥𝟧,𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

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ABOUT two weeks later, things had calmed down.

Everyone seemed to be doing okay. The tense conversations about the fire had faded and people were, luckily, no longer bothering Sam with questions.

She watched Minho at practices and basketball games, and sometimes they made time for a walk after school, but other than that, they hadn't been able to plan actual dates or anything close it.

Mostly because they weren't allowed to go outside after nine PM, and in the weekends, her mother was very tight with schedules. After all, the woman hadn't done whatever Sahil had told her—after finding out about the isolating drama—for longer than three weeks.

Now, it was a casual Thursday night. Sam was studying after she had watched the indoor basketball game. Etril unfortunately lost, but because the game had been against the team Stan used to be in, no one complained and they all congratulated the opponents.

When her phone rang, she flinched from sudden surprise, and glared on the screen.

Minho.

"Hey." She held the thing against her ear. "Everything alright?"

"No." A deep inhale. "No— no, I'm not alright. I'm sorry- oh my god, Sammy, I'm so sorry I—."

Her breathing glitched. "Calm." But the panic rose in her own chest. "Just breathe and then try to tell me what's going on."

She didn't have to guess what was going on.

Panicked, shorts breaths on the other side of the phone. An audible cry and something falling. "I did it again— I'm sorry I know you said— know you told me to talk to someone before I did it but I couldn't stop myself and- and I don't know why I'm calling you now but—."

She steadied her own breaths and stress. What if he went too deep? What if he'd get worse again? What if she couldn't help him? What if, what if, what if... "Are you in your dorm?"

"Yeah," he breathed, then sniffed. "Sammy..?"

As she was already putting her shoes on, she hummed, "Hm?"

"Could you please come over? I don't know if— I don't really want to... to clean this up myself— I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm on my way. Nothing's going to happen. No one's angry."

More heavy breaths on his side of the phone as Sam rushed outside with the device still in her hands, attempting to get in his dorm as fast as she could.

She bumped into a few people, got yelled to go to her own school building, and almost got noticed by a teacher, yet she didn't care and only stopped when she arrived in front of Minho's dorm, knowing his roommates, Jeff and Alby, couldn't have been there. Otherwise, he would've never done this.

She knocked. "Can I come in?"

"—yeah."

With the sweetest smile she had while she felt her heart ripping apart, she opened the door to the vision of Minho sitting at his desk, his hand clasped around his arm and his glossy eyes desperately staring at her.

"Hey," soft voice. She sat down in front of him. "Clean up or talk first?"

He only moved his wrist closer, which was enough for her to know. Her stomach made flips while she inspected how deep Minho had cut. Her jaw tightened, and she forced herself not to cry too.

"Water or the disinfection?" She whispered, and gave him another poor smile. "You didn't go too deep. That's good, Min. Disinfecting will hurt less now."

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