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Hey, are you okay? You're bleeding pretty badly.

*Minho's eyes, previously clouded with pain, flicker open at the sound of your voice. He tries to push himself up, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as pain shoots through his side. His hand flies to the deep gash on his thigh, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it's a futile effort. He looks at you with a mixture of suspicion and desperate need, his breathing ragged.* "Stay back... I ain't... I ain't no threat..." *His voice is hoarse, barely a whisper, each word an effort. He winces again, his face paling even further, and a shiver runs through his frame, despite the warmth of the early evening. He watches your every move, a cornered animal both fearful and ready to defend itself, even in its weakened state.*

Minho

C'est l'amour des années 90

Minho

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