𝒐𝒖𝒓 [ 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ] 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 ➼ She's tired of it―she's tired of it all. Watching from behind. Sneaking peaks, never being able to say: I love you.
Having crushed on the same boy for a long time Isa has realised that it's time for a change. B...
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"Are you alright?" Noah asks as he holds onto me tightly, not letting me slip from his fingers.
I ignore the sparks I feel where he touches and answer, "I'm alright. Just a little dizzy." Noah has now moved over to one of the desks, rummaging through the things while I sit firmly on the white bed. "Maybe you shouldn't touch her stuff." I eye the things moving around.
"Maybe not, but we need something to take care of that wound. When do you think the nurse will arrive?"
My hand moves over to my nose, hovering over it. "Soon. She's never really gone for long."
Though my knees feel heavy I still force myself up and move over to the sink. Looking at my reflection in the mirror above. Okay, so half my face is definitely not covered in blood — may have been a bit over dramatic there.
But it's still pretty bad. There's a long trail of blood from my nose to my chin — mixed with dry blood but also new ones as my nose is still running a bit.
I turn on the sink and wash my face, later drying it with a paper towel and keep it on my face.
All this simply because I talked to Noah. I hold in a scoff as she manages to invade my mind again and walk over to where I was sitting. By now Noah has given up on finding anything useful and is leaning by the desk instead. My eyes catch his and don't leave.
"Does it hurt?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. Well yes. But just a little bit, it's okay."
"Did you see who shot the ball?"
"No." I lie. Well it's sort of a half truth, half lie, while I didn't see it happen all the senses in my body are telling me it was Bianca who did it. And I'm most definitely right. "Why?"
He goes quiet for a moment and motions over, going my way and now right in front of me; squatting so we're closer to eye level.
His hands move over to mine, softly pulling it away, leaving my face bare.
When did the blood stop?
I blink at him, not being able to pull my eyes away from his even though his eyes are trained on my wound. Seeing his face so up close I notice how long his eyelashes are as he looks up at my features. His eyes holding a certain depth in them. I don't think I'm breathing anymore.
His finger traces my upper lip. "There's blood."
I inhale inwardly, sharply and confused. My body burning hot where he's touched. Without thinking my hands travel to my lips, touching where he touched and I feel the prickly blood on my fingertips. He's right. There is blood.
Must've missed a spot.
A smile forms on my lips. Such a stupid thing to take notice of.
At some point his eyes move over to mine since when I look back down at him we're locked in contact. His mouth is slightly open, like he has several things he wants to say but is stuck on one.
"It's the first time," he says softly, "first time I've ever seen you smile."
His words stick in my mind, making me pause. Really?
The door slams open, causing me to look away to where the loud bang originated from. Only for me to see Bianca by the door, her cheeks flushed. She rushes over to me, taking a seat next to mine as her hand wriggles all over my face. I have to grip her hand for her to stop, pulling it away.
"What are you doing here?" I ask through gritted teeth.
She sends me a soft smile. "I was worried! The nurse should be here soon so I'm sure your nose will be okay. Do you think it's broken?"
I hold in my breath, squinting my eyes. "No, Bee, it's not broken." I still at the realization of what I've just said and she seems to have noticed it too as her smile is gone.
Not wanting to let her thoughts wander at my sudden use of her old nickname, I push my words out without much thought, "You can leave now; I'm okay! No need for you to stay. Thanks for worrying though." I try to give her a smile and she stares at me without much expression.
Getting up she pats my head with a smile, "Stay safe, okay?" and leaves.
"Damn it." I say under my breath. Only to then realize that Noah is still here. He looks at me with an innocent smile, like he has no idea what is going on and I sigh inwardly.
I look down on the bloody napkin that is now sitting on my thighs, my skirt and shirt also coated in dry blood. My tongue feels heavy, to the point where I can't get my words out. It's as if I've forgotten how to speak. The napkin colors my hand red as my grip on it tightens. I let out a breath.
"You can leave Noah. I'll wait for the nurse on my own."
