16: Look, Only Death To Follow Now

                                    

                                          
Seonghwa softly hissed as he felt the needle go in.
For a moment, he could feel a sharp pain course through his veins, firing up his blood with an ache he found similar to the one his bite mark gave him. It was a quick type of agony, but inducing nonetheless. The metal rod remained plunged in his arm for a few seconds, and he imagined a set of sharp teeth biting down in his abdomen. When the syringe retracted, taking away the crimson liquid that came from his arm with it, his limb felt heavy and dull. Holding in his breath, he watched as to how the blood poured into the top part of the syringe, filling it up until it could no more.
''Do I really need to do this?'' Jongho's voice sounded softly beside him.
Seonghwa's eyes turned from the syringe towards the younger, almost chuckling at the way he sat in his seat. Jongho had made an attempt to hide his uneasiness about the needle, but the tight grip he made the armchair suffer with didn't go unnoticed by him. It almost seemed comical.
''Yes, Jongho, you do,'' Yeosang answered calmly, taking out the syringe and quickly dabbing up the blood that threatened to drip out of the minuscule punctured hole. Within seconds, the young medic put a white plaster on his forearm, tapping it securely before taking the syringe with his blood to the counter left of them. ''It's safety protocol.''
''But I'm not sick,'' Jongho answered with a low whine, his lips ever so slightly pouting. ''Really, I am not.''
Yeosang let out a chuckle, his backside not fully hiding the smile that slowly appeared on his face. Seonghwa couldn't see what he was doing, but he knew that whatever he was doing, it probably was too medical for him to fully understand anyway. 
''I know, and I believe you,'' Yeosang said amused, turning back around with a new syringe before adjusting the white latex gloves he was wearing. ''But it's critical for me to run a few tests before we send you out. Like I said, standard protocol. Nowadays, you can't be sure about anything, and I'd be damned if anything slips past us.''
''Yeah, but I'm not affected,'' Jongho quickly defended, his eyes slightly widening as Yeosang approached his side. ''No signs of me turning into one of them. No scratch, no fever, no bite mark. No offence to you, Hwa.'' Seonghwa merely smiled, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. ''Conclusion is, I am not sick, so, really, we don't need to be doing this.''
''Jongho,'' Yeosang then said, his voice suddenly low as he pressed his lips into a thin line, ''Just sit still for me, will you?''
Jongho's eyes remained on Yeosang's for a minute before the younger sighed out, his head reluctantly turning in front of him. Yeosang gently grabbed hold of the arm that wasn't threatening to grip the armchair to shreds, rolling up his sleeve as he did. 
''Hold on to my hand,'' Seonghwa then offered, leaning towards Jongho who merely side-eyed him. ''Trust me, it'll feel less pressuring.''
The younger scoffed, lightly shaking his head, ''I'm not scared.''
With a simple roll of his eyes, Seonghwa leaned back towards his chair, leaving his hand hanging limply beside the armchair. Not even a second later, he heard Jongho breathe in sharply, and soon after he felt a strong hand gripping his. With raised eyebrows, he looked down to his side, his eyes falling onto Jongho who held onto him like a lifeline. Seonghwa had to try his best to suppress his laugh, but nonetheless made sure to rub gentle circles on the backside of the younger's hand, hoping it would distract him from his obvious fear of needles. Who would've guessed – Jongho, the former police officer and known to be fearless, afraid of a simple, tiny metal rod? Seonghwa wouldn't have guessed it in a million years.
''There, all done,'' Yeosang then finally said, proceeding to go on with the same process as he had done with Seonghwa. ''That wasn't so bad now, was it?''