Catacomb Heart

Confusion

Gifts like that don't always come free..

I frowned harder as I scrubbed the inside of the cupboards in Zak's kitchen. Nothing was actually dirty, it just needed a freshening up, but I was still going over the conversation between myself and Joe. And well, last night Joe decided to bring up the fact he knew of Zak. Yeah. According to Joe, my boss was on TV which I knew about. But also that Zak who I was suspecting to be some serial killer, in fact already had some sort of thing going with serial killers by owning their items!

A suicide Van from Dr Jack Kevorkian.
Ed Gein's cauldron. The guy put body parts in it and this man who's giving me an expensive as heck laptop, bought it!

"You'l-"

Zak's voice projected so loudly in the kitchen that I shot up straight and smacked my head on the corner of an open cupboard door.

"Shoot!" I snapped throwing down my sponge in order to hold my head. The pain was registering loud and clear. But whilst I was close to crying in pain, I was also close to yelling at him in anger for creeping around.. Again!

"Are you okay?" He asked quieter noticing I hadn't moved since the accident.

I removed my hand from my head to see blood on my palm. "I uh- I'm fine." I answered quickly wiping my head to remove any blood that might be there.

"Let me see."

"I'm fine." I repeated.

"I wasn't asking." Zak forced making me sigh and turn slowly in his direction. "You're not fine at all. Sit down and don't lie to me again."

Scolded like a child, I walked over to the bar stool and climbed up on it before sitting there quietly watching him go into a cupboard and find a first aid box. I kept quiet whilst Zak's long finger sifted through the box until he found an alcohol wipe. Tearing the perforated strip, he pulled it out and looked at my head.

"I can do it-"

"I'm doing it." He replied brushing my hair back gently and applying the wipe gently. I drew my lips back as I hissed at the pain of the alcohol mixing onto the open wound.

"I know, I'm sorry." He answered quietly dabbing at it. Whilst he worked away, I took a cautious look up at him to see the ice blue eyes fixated on the cut. Concentration was written all over his face and the slight look of concern present in his eyes. Throughout the whole stinging experience I hadn't failed to notice his thumb brushing my head almost soothingly as a silent apology from the pain of the alcohol wipe.

It was only when his eyes locked with mine that I looked down at my hands nervously.

"Thank you." I spoke quietly trying to remove the awkward tension.

"You're welcome." He replied holding a small piece of gauze to my head in order to stop the blood.

"I should stop bleeding fairly quickly, I don't have a lot of potassium in my blood." I informed him.

"What does that mean?"

"That my blood clots quicker than most."

"Handy, I guess." He shrugged.

"Pain on the butt for blood tests though."

He almost smiled "I bet you're the doctors favourite there."

"Yeah, but not when they have to take twice as much blood just to run a few tests."