Once again, you found yourself patching up your best friend, Hamin, after yet another fight he had gotten himself into. Hamin was stubborn enough to always pick fights he knew he couldn’t win.

You both sat in the living room of your shared apartment, bandages and antiseptic bottles spread out on the coffee table, blood stains on Hamin’s shirt, his face covered in fresh bruises.

You soaked a cloth in warm water to cleanse the wounds on his face.