“Cala.. Pretty name,” Yeong commented. Even though he felt out of his mind and light headed, he still was trying to be flirtatious. When he was offered the bottle of whiskey, he grinned and took it from her. “You are like an angel from heaven, mamacita,” he laughed.
He opened the bottle, bringing it to his lips and tipping it back. He lowered the bottle back down, keeping a hold of it as he watched Cala closely. He shifted so she was able to get a good view of the gashes on his side. “Fence. Goddamn police,” he grumbled with furrowed brows. He was asked his name and tilted his head a bit. His dad said he had been there, and so had many others in the cartel. Cala obviously helped out the cartel, but she didn’t know him. “You help with the cartel don’t you? I’m Yeong. Yeong Wang? You know, heir to the whole little business?”
Cala was about as good at recognizing flirting, as she was at dancing. Which was to say, not at all. Almost embarrassingly not. And with an open wound in front of her, her brain couldn't even entertain the fact that there was a shirtless man sitting on her couch.
She had already begun to put on gloves when he told her his name, and that made her freeze. It wasn't a horrible injury, but if she screwed up here…that could possibly be the end of her.
"Do you know of anyone else who would let injured strangers into her home at night?" She asked, wincing at the sarcasm in her tone. Injuries always brought out a different side of her. Still, at least she had managed to keep her voice soft. That meant something, in terms of bedside manner. "Heir. That's a heavy title. This is going to feel really bad, I'm sorry."
The warning came as she was pouring peroxide on a rag, and Yeong wouldn't have had much time to prepare for the feeling of it on his skin. That was usually for the best, as a lot of people got too freaked out just anticipating it. "You seem to like talking through this, so…what's your favorite memory attached to a food?" She never got over the feeling of guilt that came with hurting someone, when she was trying to help them. It was necessary, but horrible. Hopefully, encouraging his attempts at conversation would help him.
Yeong chuckled at the sarcasm. He liked her attitude, even if her tone was a bit soft spoken. “Yeah, it is a heavy title. It’s pretty fucking tough,” he said, a slight annoyance in his tone. He arched a brow at Cala’s warning, but when the peroxide soaked rag was pressed to his side, he cursed loudly. He hissed with pain through gritted teeth, taking a moment to take another quick gulp of the whiskey in his hand.
Yeong did like talking, but he had no idea if that topic was best at the time. “Memory attached to a food? Jesus, I have absolutely no idea. Probably going to my abuelas house on the weekends, and when I didn’t finish her dinners, she would throw a chancleta at my head. Had great aim too,” he laughed, words slurring together a tad. It was obviously from a mix of pain and the drugs/alcohol in his system.
Cala's lips lifted up into a small smile at that. "From what I've heard, you should do everything possible to avoid upsetting a grandmother. One of my favorite food memories is more recent. The first time I tried a grilled cheese. I had apparently been missing out on a lot." She joked, pausing in her work to appraise the gash. It looked just deep enough to maybe need stitches.
"I'm going to have to get into the stitches. After that, I'll get you a change of clothes, and check on the state of your leg. I recommend staying here for the night, to avoid the cops, and so I can check up on you. Do you need something to bite?" She asked, finally glancing up at his face. Knowing now who he was, the act was harder. He won't hurt you. His father told him who you are.
“It’s not like I was trying to, I was doing my best! She made a shit ton of food, I couldn’t eat it all!” Yeong exclaimed with a laugh. He listened to Cala talk about what her food memory was, and he got a very surprised expression on his face. “Wait- you haven’t had grilled cheese until recently? Mamacita, how is that possible?”
He exhaled sharply at the mention of stitches. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had stitches. “Yeah, yeah give me something to bite down on. I don’t care what it is,” he hummed, tilting his head. He took another sip of the whiskey. He wondered how much more he should drink, thinking he could throw up at some point. That would certainly be embarrassing.
"Grilled cheese wasn't a common food in my house, growing up." To be fair, the most common food was bar fries that she got to snack on while cleaning. But he didn't need to know that. Shaking her head, she removed her gloves to tie her hair back in a ponytail, before donning another pair and pulling a belt from the tub. It had only been used three times, once to fashion a tourniquet that made her want to cry, when she had a group of men in here.
As she gathered the items she would need and set them on the couch, Cala tried to come up with something to talk about. "I'll be ask quick as I can, I promise. The alcohol in your system is probably already going to help with the pain, so at least there's that. Um…oh, there's lots of foods I still haven't tried. Spaghetti, I've heard people talk about that one." The talking tended to help her focus a bit, which was good when it came to repeatedly stabbing someone.
"Yeah, well it wasn't in mine either, but goddamn, chica," Yeong hummed, shaking his head a tiny bit as well. They had similar mannerisms it seemed, and Yeong took notice of that. While he seemed like only a reckless play boy type of person, he was quite intelligent and observant. He stretched out a bit further, hissing softly at the feeling of pain shooting through his nerves.
He took another sip of the whiskey as Cala spoke, nodding his head along to her words slowly. He was positive that he would not remember too much about this in the morning. He was sure that he would wake up on that couch, assuming he had crashed at a friends or went home with some chick- before realizing the amount of pain that he was in. "You haven't tried spaghetti? Ay, mamacita, you need to get out there a bit more, hm?" he said with raised brows.
"I've just never had the chance to try it. I could probably make it," Cala said, motioning for him to bite down on the belt as she quickly sterilized the needle. Between the pain, alcohol, and mentioned cocaine, she could probably tell him literally anything, and he'd think it was a weird dream. That thought was sort of amusing. "But I'm a little scared to mess it up. Besides, if I made it myself, and messed it up, then I wouldn't really know if it was any good done right. Which sounds stupid."
Yeong took the belt from Cala, putting it between his teeth. He hummed in reply to her statement about being able to make spaghetti, nodding his head as a way to say that she should try. He loosened the belt a bit from between his teeth to reply quickly. “Go out and get some then. Plenty of nice restaurants in the area that make it perfectly,” he suggested before placing the belt back in his mouth to bite down on firmly.
"I had sort of forgotten about restaurants. Well, the fact that you can go into them." Cala made a face, before shaking her head and carefully starting on the stitches. "This never feels good, I know. Sorry. Hm, the last time I actually went out to eat was…I think when I was sixteen. It wasn't a very fun dinner, and the food was sort of bland. It might be time to go out again, and make it fun. Let me know if you need a second, just make a noise."
The conversation that they were having was definitely a nice way to distract Yeong from the pain. He arched a brow, about to question how she could have forgotten about restaurants, but was cut off from a grunt that was muffled into the belt between his teeth. Cala had started on the stitches, so now he was going to try to listen more than speak- which was something rare for him. "You should let me take you out somewhere," he said, laughing slightly before making another noise of pain. "Just keep going, I'm fine."
Cala nodded at his assurance, continuing the methodical stitching of his gash. "That might be a good idea. You probably know what places serve better food. If I'm going to try spaghetti, it needs to be the best that I can afford. To make up for lost time, of course." For a moment, she wondered what kind of 'going out' it would be. The thought was quickly shook off, and she reminded herself that they were probably far from the kind of people that made a good match.
They were a third of the way through. She had done this enough that she could move quickly, without making any mistakes. Something she was grateful for, knowing how painful stitches were. "Once, a friend of mine bought lunch for a picnic from this fancy little…he called it a bistro. He said that the entire time he was getting food, the lady he was ordering from kept asking if he could afford it. Which is funnier when you actually try the food there. You know those frozen TV dinners that stores sell? According to him, that's exactly what it tasted like. It wasn't very good. We're halfway done, on the stitches."
Yeong's head lolled to the side, colors dancing in his vision as he hummed in acknowledgement. That was most likely a product of the cocaine and alcohol in his system, but he paid it no mind. He was a bit of a party boy, going out every night to fuck around with friends. It was better than staying at home with his parents all the time, and it was a good way to forget any problems that might have come up throughout the day.
He was glad that Cala was moving quickly. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could go to sleep. "That doesn't sound good. Gotta' get you a home cooked meal instead," he replied. he never really ate those frozen TV dinners. He usually always ate whatever his abuela or mom made for him. He wasn't a picky eater, though, and would be open to trying everything at least once. "Thank god, I'm fucking exhausted."
Cala laughed softly, careful not to let the movement jostle her hands. "I don't have a bed in the guest room, because I only just recently got around to turning it into a guest room. You can take the couch, or I can sleep on the couch, and you can use my bed." Her sleep schedule was wildly messed up, keeping her up late or waking her up randomly. She was used to falling asleep and waking up in random places in the apartment, so a night out of her bed was far from the end of the world. "It's up to you. Two thirds."
"No, no. I have some manners, I would never take a hosts bed!" Yeong exclaimed with a little grin on his lips, before his tone became more flirtatious. "Shame I'm here because I'm hurt, if I was healthy, I would say we could share the bed." He chuckled at the little statement before looking down again at the partly stitched wound. It was almost done, and he was ready for that. They hadn't dealt with his knee, but that was a problem for later.
Startled by the much more obvious flirting, Cala choked out a cough, her face flushing pink. "It's not-not a very big bed." She practically whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. Doing her best to focus back on her work, she shrugged a shoulder. "It wouldn't be a big deal for you to use the bed. I don't know that an injured leg and a couch are a very good blend, anyway." A few more moments had her finishing up, tying off the last of the stitches and cutting the thread. "There! I can bandage it, if you need me to."
Yeong laughed at how flustered Cala became. It was entertaining to him how she was trying to avoid the topic. It was a challenge to him, of sorts. "Nah, don't worry about it. This couch feels like the most comfortable place in the world right now. I do not want to move," he replied. Cala finished off the stitches and he was able to relax a tad bit more again. "Mm, if you think it would be best. You're the doctor here, not me."
"If we were really leaving this up to me, I'd take you to a licensed professional." Cala said, blowing an escaped piece of hair out of her face as she once again took off her gloves, this time leaving them off to apply a large adhesive bandage over some cautionary gauze. "I figure you probably want to stand as little as possible, so I went with a quick sticky bandage. If we need tomorrow, I can fully wrap you up." With that taken care of, she moved the tub with her foot out of the way. Keeping it out for tomorrow.
Now that her mind wasn't occupied by the injury, she was a lot less confident. Gaze shifting, she fidgeted with her hands. "Uh-you probably need clean clothes. Jeans aren't very comfortable to sleep in. I'll…go grab those."
"Yeah, well I don't think they would take lightly to a coked up cartel member showing up in their emergency room," Yeong snickered. He held still as Cala applied the gauze to his side, and he was pleased with it. "Yeah, I won't be going anywhere tonight."
He glanced down at his clothes and glanced back up. "Yeah, that would be great if you could." He wondered if Cala just had men's clothes lying around because she helped the cartel often, or if she had some sort of boyfriend. Not that it mattered to Yeong. He wouldn't admit it, but he was a bit spoiled and cocky like that. He was used to getting what he wanted.
Cala nodded, grateful for the moment to breathe. She slipped into her bedroom, another door off of the living room, leaving the door open just a crack. Hino often gave her any old clothes he didn't want, which was useful when it came to her 'side business'. Most of the men who showed up, did so with practically ruined clothes. She liked to help if she could. Luckily, Hino was similar in size to Yeong, though a bit shorter.
She hummed softly as she pulled a tote out of her closet, opening it up and moving aside the tea bag she used to keep the clothes from smelling funky. Once she had the t-shirt and sweatpants she grabbed a blanket from the closet, and one of the pillows off her bed, then stepped back out, setting everything on the couch.
"The, um, bathroom is right there. I'll be in my room, if you need anything. Just…knock. Get some rest?"
Yeong waited, lounged out on the couch lazily. He took in his surroundings. It was a nice little apartment, seeming very cozy to him. When Cala came back, he looked at her with an appreciative grin on his lips. "Thanks for this," he hummed, accepting and taking the clothes, blanket, and pillow. It was good enough for him, he was easy to please. "Anything I can do to repay you, hm?" he questioned, wanting to show his gratitude for her actions in some sort of way.
Cala's eyes widened at that, like the thought was crazy to her. "Oh, no. There's…I think you're the first one to ask that." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook her head. "No, I wouldn't dream of letting you repay me. Your father's help has been incredible, and I get to help people." She was so used to doing things for other people. The idea of even letting someone return that favor seemed mildly uncomfortable. Even in different circumstances.
Yeong was the first one to ask? Was he the first one to come to Cala that actually had some sort of manners or morals? He listened to Cala speak about his father, humming to himself a bit. "Can I at least offer you something small? Come on, chica. You've helped my dad and now me. We keep buzzing around here like little flies because we're a reckless family. Let me do just one thing, yeah?"
"Well, I…" Something simple would work, right? She wasn't sure what the boundaries were, in terms of giving tasks to the son of the man you owed your freedom to. "I have some baking to do tomorrow? Or, I guess there's some garden work I could use help with. I don't know it really would depend on how well you're doing in the morning." Cala added, frowning at the floor.
Yeong clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "I could help with all that stuff.. or, better idea: you could let me take you out to get some good pasta," he chirped, giving her a cunning sort of grin. He obviously radiated pride, even in an injured and vulnerable position like he was in now. "Up to you, chica. You just let me know. Now, I think it's time for me to change and get my beauty sleep."
