Sixth

Trigger warning for physical abuse; please read at your own risk.

Baekhyun

My exhaustion must have gotten the best of me because I woke up about an hour later. As I sat up in the bed and saw how late it was, I groaned and rubbed my eyes. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn't in my own bed, which initially made me start to panic. But I calmed down a little once I remembered where I was and how I got there.

"Oh shit," I mumbled to myself, laying my face in my hands. It wasn't like my parents weren't used to be staying out late to study, but I had never been this late before. I quickly got up and grabbed my bag off the floor before leaving his room. I came to a stop soon after though when I saw Chanyeol talking to someone.

"It just happened. He got hurt and I wanted to make sure he was alright, so I brought him back here and he ended up falling asleep. That's it," he said.

"Since when did other people's problems become ours?" the older man replied, his face getting closer to Chanyeol's. "You know I don't want strangers in my house when I'm gone. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you the rules of this house before you'll understand, huh?" The man pushed a finger into Chanyeol's forehead. He didn't seem to fully wince, but even from a distance, I could see him flinch. "Your mom should have dropped your ass off at orphanage instead of bringing you here. You're such a fucking nuisance."

"You always say that," he mumbled under his breath. The man turned back around and looked at him angrily.

"What'd you say?" he asked. Chanyeol didn't answer, but instead kept his attention on the floor beneath him. "Park Chanyeol, I asked you a question, so you better answer me. What the hell did you say?"

"I said you always say that," he said, slowly looking him in the face. "You always tell me that I'm a waste of space like it's my fault my mom died. But it's not. When are you grow the fuck up and realize it's your fault? I don't know why she even came here in the first place." 

There was a short silence before a loud slapping sound made me jump. I jumped back into the room I was in, my chest now heaving slightly due to the shock of what I had just seen. Hesitantly, I peeked my head out of the door just in time to see Chanyeol put his hand on his face quickly reddening cheek. 

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again," he said in a stern voice. "You're lucky I took your ass in at all, you ungrateful prick. Don't assume you mean anything to me just because you're my nephew." The man, his uncle apparently, scoffed and looked away for a second. "Make sure that kid leaves. If I ever find out he or anyone else was here, you're done." Then he shoved past Chanyeol disappeared into a different room. 

I just stared at him. I didn't know what else to do. As much as I hoped that was the first time his uncle had hit him, his body language and surprisingly calm reaction told me otherwise. Maybe that was why he didn't let himself cry. 

He exhaled and then turned toward the hall as if to walk down it, prompting me to stick my head back in the room and scurry over to the bed in an attempt to act like I had just woken up. I think he must have stopped off in the bathroom because he didn't actually come into the room until a few minutes later.

"I would have woken you up, but you looked tired," he said, his voice sounding slightly shaken.

"I-It's fine," I said. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on your bed."

"It's okay." His voice was starting to sound like a whisper. "Your cab is here. You better go. Your parents are probably wondering where you are."

"Y-Yeah you're probably right," I stuttered as I stood up and grabbed my bag again. As I began following him out of the room, I felt the urge to speak come over me. I knew I wasn't the nicest person, but it would make me a complete asshole to not say anything. "U-Um, about your uncle..." I started slowly, but my words seemed to make him stop in his tracks almost immediately. He turned around and looked at me, a harsh and sharp yet worried expression now on his face. "A-Are you okay?" I asked.

He kept looking at me. "I'm fine," he said plainly. 

"Are you sure? 'Cause I can call someone o-or take you somewhere els--"

"Just stop," he cut me off, the harshness in his voice making me flinch. "Stop trying to act like you actually give a shit about  me to make yourself feel better about the fact that you were just talking shit about me to your friends today."

I huffed a little, looking down at the floor. "That's not why I said that," I replied, my voice low. 

"Bullshit. Why else would a stuck up prick like you care about anyone other than yourself? You only feel bad because you just now realized that maybe I wasn't missing school because I wanted to but because I had no other choice and now you feel like shit and it's eating you up." I looked at him, only able to swallow. "Just drop the hero act while you're ahead and forget you ever saw anything. It's none of your business anyway."

With that, he turned around and kept walking. I exhaled, feeling both frustrated and hurt, but followed him to the front door anyway. He didn't say anything else as he opened the door for me. I wanted so badly to stop and yell at him because all I was truly trying to do was help. But I didn't. He was partially right and I hated it. 

So, I just went outside and walked to the cab, doing my best to not look back. 

It was almost 11 p.m. when I finally got home. I was worried my parents would be waiting up to scold me, but when I slipped my shoes off and walked inside, I saw that the lights were out. I quietly walked toward their bedroom, peeking in to see that they were already fast asleep. I sighed, deciding to just to go sleep, too. 

I had trouble falling asleep that night. What I saw irked me. What I was forced to realize about myself haunted my thoughts. 

I was genuinely trying to help and I was grateful he had even stopped to help in the first place, considering every negative thing I had publicly assumed about him. But feelings and intentions wouldn't be enough and rightfully so. I had to do more. I wanted to do more.

A/N

Made some minor changes for Chanyeol's story. Originally, he was living with his dad and his mom just left them. Now, both of his parents are dead and he lives with his uncle. Don't know why, but I just liked that a little better.