LETHAL

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟐

"How are you so calm?", he asked. 

"You expect me to panic? If I do, how am I supposed to treat your wound?", I questioned, my voice calm and firm.

I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was confused. A million questions could be seen in his blue irises. His hand slowly left my wrist and I proceeded to lift up his shirt. As I expected, there was a blade wound on the right side of his lower abdomen. Grabbing a cloth, I applied pressure onto his wound to stop the bleeding. After the cloth was full of blood, I applied another one. 

Should I ask him questions? No.

The moment where any normal person would be curious is now. Should I be asking how he got the wound? Or why did he come to me? Or where has he been this past week, because I haven't seen him since Monday?

But my mouth stayed shut. The different sides of me were killing myself even. I thought of myself as a person who cares, but why don't I? I keep denying it, but I cared enough at least to treat his wound. The walls I build are there for a reason. Little did I know, they were about to be broken down. 

After a while, the bleeding stopped. I went to the bathroom and came back with a small wet towel. Slowly, I started cleaning his wound. He hissed once in a while during the process. After I grabbed the antiseptic from the first aid kit, I started to twist the cap of the bottle. Once it was off, I placed the cap beside me. I was about to pour it over his wound, but I stopped to say.

"This will hurt", I mumbled, looking up at his eyes which were staring at me with curiosity. While maintaining eye contact with him, I poured some antiseptic over his wound. His immediate action was to grab a hold of my free hand, squeezing it but not much for him to hurt me. He grunts in pain and clenches his teeth together. Looking down at his hand holding mine, for the fourth time tonight, we maintained eye contact. 

"You have to let me go so I can continue treating you", I whispered, softly. When I thought he would let go, he didn't. The eye contact was maintained for a few seconds longer. He gave my hand a last squeeze before releasing it. 

After placing the cap back on the bottle, I started to bandage his wound, carefully. 

"Aren't you going to ask?" His eyes scanned my face as mine was focused on his wound. 

"No."

When I was done bandaging his wound, I looked up at him. I did not expect to see a small smile on his face. 

"I knew you were different", he spoke quietly. 

I stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in my bedroom. Took some painkillers from my drawer before giving them to him. He took it without hesitation before thanking me. 

I really wanted to ask, I really did. But it felt like something was choking me, no words came out of my mouth. It stayed shut as if they were stitched together. Looking at the clock, I checked the time, 9:20 pm. Could he even walk back to his room? Wrong question. Could he even walk?

"Would you like me to help you get back to your room? Or would you prefer to stay?" I wasn't looking at him, but I knew he was staring. 

"I would prefer to stay." That's when I looked at him. He smiled sadly before speaking again. "But I should get back to my room."

I nodded and got up. Grabbed my key card from my bedroom, before making my way back to him. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, I helped him stand up. Slowly and carefully, I helped him back to his room. While walking down the stairs, a thought came to mind. 

Did he risk walking up the stairs to my room? 

It didn't take very long for us to reach his room. He told me to grab his key card from his coat pocket, and I did. I scanned his card before opening his room door.  The one thing I noticed about his room, was a lack of everything. His curtains were closed, making the room darker. Luca stepped out of his shoes and I helped him towards his bed.  Once we reached it, he took a seat on the edge, After I took his coat off, I asked him where his closet was. He didn't ask questions and just point toward his closet, which was opposite his bed. Grabbing him a clean t-shirt I found in his closet, I walked back to him and asked. 

"Are you able to move your arms up?", I asked. He shouldn't sleep in that shirt, which is covered in blood. 

He nodded. But when he tried to move, he hissed in pain. I sat beside him and swiftly removed his t-shirt. Immediately, I put on the clean t-shirt on him. 

"Thanks", he mumbled.

He started moving backwards and laid his head down on his pillow. I stood up. 

Leave Kristine.

I grabbed the hem of the blanket and pulled it over him. 

Kristine leave. Now.

"Good night, Luca." I was about to leave but of course, the cliche thing happened. He grasped my fingers, gently. 

"Thank you", he whispered. 

I nodded and was about to leave but he gripped my hand. His grip was tight but soft in a way. He tugged my hand softly and I faced him. 

"Do you care?", he asked suddenly. A hint of sadness flickered in his eyes. His sad eyes made me feel waves of guilt because I didn't care. 

"No."

Liar.

"Your eyes tell otherwise", he said. "Since day one, I knew what kind of person you were. I felt it."

I chuckled. "What kind of person am I Luca?" The entire night my face stayed cold and blank. Which in a way was hurting me."You didn't think of me as a person, who was capable of being broken."

"I didn't. But then I realised the kind of person you are, is worst than just broken." His eyes searched mine. 

"What's worst than broken?"

"You", he answered. I felt the pain go through my chest, but my face didn't show it. "The happiest people are always the most damaged."

I smiled. "When did I appear to be the happiest? When did you see me that way?"

"Day one we met. In the garden, when I watched you do ballet turns with that beautiful smile on your face. Right after that, I saw you cry  . . . still with a smile on your face." His eyes softened after each word. 

"We met only a week ago, don't think you know anything about me."

"You built your walls, but your eyes give away everything."

Silence. 

"My mind is telling me to keep those walls up." I ripped my hand out of his grip and made my way toward the door. Once I opened it, Luca stopped me by asking . . . .

"What does your heart tell you?" 

Silence.

"It tells different."

I stepped out of the room and shut the door. Letting out a heavy sigh, I leaned my back against the door. 

What exactly does my heart tell me?