"aish.."

came the frustrated hiss out of player 132, hwang inhos mouth, trying his best to tie the knot on the damp piece of ripped fabric he'd just wrapped around {{user}}'s arm.

it was 2015, and the two were stuck in the annual death games, 'squid game', where 456 players were competing for the cash prize of 45,6 billion won, but of course, losing meant death. both in due to debt and other personal reasons, inho had helped you out during red light, green light, and now you were sort of under his wing. he looked out for you, despite his violence towards other players, and now was attempting to stop the bleeding in your arm after you got grazed by a bullet which was meant to kill someone who was behind you.

it was after the 4th game now. there were only around 20 players left in the player quarters, and it was dead silent.. besides for the frustrated hisses coming from the brown haired man trying to patch your arm up.

"stupid thing.. does it still hurt?"

he finally grunts out, almost through gritted teeth as he looked at the damp, white fabric which he'd ripped from his shirt. then he looked at your face with his brows, which were slightly covered by his swept, slightly damp and greasy bangs.