BLEEDING [✔️]

BLEEDING - 8

"Fu**" Sam cursed as he pulled the knife out, it was sharp with snapped tip. He pressed his hand against the deep cut and suck in a sharp breath as pain throbbed all across his body. 

At the same time, Chloe recovered from her state of shock. She immediately picked her wallet, and rushed by his side.

"We'll have to call 911" She panicked, and with shivering hands, grabbed her phone.

"Don't" he retorted.

"But—" She began in an attempt to protest, but once she looked in his angry eyes, she masked her words with a nod. "o–okay ! Then, let me help you." She said softly, and raised her arms to hold him.

"Don't you understand, I don't need your fu**ing help, scurry off before I kill you." He yelled, gritting his teeth. She straightened herself and narrowed her eyes at him.

"It won't hurt you to be nice for once ." She said, ignoring the churn in her stomach . He glared at her and lurch towards her but instantly sharp pain lanced through his body.

"Careful" She held him tightly, such that his left arm was wrapped around her shoulders and her right arm around his waist.

"Now, please co-operate." She said, and helped him walk. Blood cascaded across his skin, right through her arm. Even though pain mutated on his face, an angry crease impressed on his forehead.

As they walked from the dark alleyway, he staggered many times on the path, but each time she held him, bearing almost all his weight. 

Upon reaching her house, she loosened her hold around his waist and unlocked the door. She helped him in and sat him down on the sofa.

"I'll get first aid box." She told him and went upstairs in her bedroom.

After holstering his gun in his ankle holster and covering it with the blue jeans he was wearing, Sam lay back, and closed his eyes in grimace. Moments later, he heard approaching footsteps and straightened his posture.

"Uhm–remove your shirt and lay down." She said, hesitantly. He assessed her from top to bottom and did as she said, much to her satisfaction.

He crossed his arms and tried to lift up his shirt, it seemed to be a poor choice, as with each move pain amplified.

"May I ?" She asked reluctantly. He gave her a nod. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, she dragged it up. Her fingers brushed past his toned abdomen, red of blossoming roses infused her cheeks.

She placed his shirt aside and kneeled infront of the sofa, where he lay flatways. The wound was heavily oozing out blood and there was a bluish-purple bruise forming around it.

She scooped up some cotton balls and dabbed it on the wound, allowing it to soak in the excessive blood. She cleansed the wound to avoid infections, and as an instinctual response, he flinched.

She looked up, his eyes were closed, jaws tight. As she observed his expressions, she noticed, he had disguised all his pain with an emotionless face, to her it seemed as if he was too scared to show his emotions or as if he considered emotions as a weakness.

After wrapping sterile bandage around the wound, she stood up on her feet.

"Done, you should take some rest. You can stay here, in case you need any help." She said.

"I don't" He replied, his voice wasn't intimidating or admonishing, nor it was soft or gentle. They were merely some hollow words without any emotion reflecting in them.

"I am fine." He tried to lift up his body, but pain wasn't still subdued.

"Your body needs rest, don't move much." She rebuked unconsciously and helped him sit. She could feel his gaze, and then she realised what she had done. She lifted her gaze and their eyes met.

His stare seemed cold, but it wasn't, his face somehow lacked the mobility others had. Others would have altered their gazes as if any prolong eye contact could be their last. But she didn't.

"I know, you're aren't very social but in this moment, you shouldn't be alone." She voiced, her words heavily laced with concern.

"I don't need anyone." He replied, and unsteadily stood on his feet, strangling his scream and putting on his shirt.

"You're wrong at some point of life. Everyone needs someone." She said softly. He turned to her. "Stay here tonight." She added, her gaze fixed with his.

Outside, streaks of white and purple crackled against the grey clouds, blanketing the sky. Wind violently striked the glass windows like a hungry howling wolf, trying to break in.

His eyes moved to the door, and without any other word, he marched towards it, clutching his lower abdomen tightly.

"Don't." She spoke and followed him but he never looked back. She remained still at her door, watching at his retreating figure, hoping he would change his mind.

It was when he reached his front porch, he turned back, their gazes locked yet again, right on time another bright flash flickered, like a camera flash that enveloped them and rain began to fall haphazardly. He glided up the stairs with the support of rail and vanished from her view, while she just stood there, listening to the roaring sky with her eyes trained on his house.

"Several nights, I have seen you come and go, that never bothered me but all those bruises you brought with you did. I don't know you, nor do you know me. Still I don't know why, seeing you in misery, seeing you so conflicted within yourself, moreover, seeing you in that darkness—haunts me."

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