My Soul, Your Heart

Blood, Epiphanies and the Comfort of Green

If he allowed himself to be hurt it would give him an excuse to meet the Cullen leader, he'd do everything in his power to avoid the hospital but perhaps he could seek a home visit. A home visit would give him the opportunity to observe the family, confirm his thoughts they were wholly uninteresting and not worth fighting.

It could be more beneficial to see them all.

Besides fate wanted to push him their way, might as well do it on his own terms.

Harry raised an arm to defend himself, allowing the knife to slice through his skin like butter. It wasn't a horrific wound, about 9 center-meters long from his outer wrist to the middle of his forearm. Harry could admit it did sting a bit, but comparing it to the concealed scars that littered his body it was barely a scratch. Deep enough to need stitches but not enough to make him pass out from blood loss.

That being said, blood was starting to leak rather rapidly from the cut. Harry bemoaned another good shirt lost, but swiftly moved on.

The man looked more in pain than Harry was and Bella had turned a strange green colour. Of course the vampire girl would be afraid of blood.

Harry, now with an effective excuse to meet the Cullen hierarchy, raised an uninjured fist and punched the mugger in the face.

The man staggered a few steps, groaning.

Harry's grin hadn't faded despite his bleeding arm.

He strode forward and placed another punch, this time to the mans stomach.

The man gave another groan and surprised Harry by punching back. Harry nose throbbed in reply, something thick oozing down his face. Harry opened his mouth to inhale, the metallic tang of blood was all too familiar on his tongue.

Harry, by now losing interest and patience, took hold of the mans shoulder. Swinging him round and slamming him into the wall, his head collided with said wall and he crumpled into a pile at Harry's feet.

Harry gave a satisfied sigh at the sight and set about detangling himself from the unconscious mans form.

Bland Bella's croaking gasp broke him out of his focus. She was a few hasty steps away from her original place, staring at the man with a stunned look.

"Do you have someone you can call?" he asked, aware that he was bleeding quite heavily from two places. She blinked at him dumbly, before taking a breath and nodding.

"I-yes. I can call Edward, I should call Charlie too." Harry didn't bother listening as she frantically spoke to first Edward and then to whoever Charlie was.

"They'll be here soon." She looked at him again, finally seeming to see he was bleeding. "Oh god, your arm."

She took a step toward him, shaky hands pulling his now folded sleeve tighter in an attempt to stem the blood flow. Harry felt oddly touched as well as surprised to see her trying to help him. Though he supposed he did help her out first.

"Do you have someone to call?" Harry nearly said Mortuus but quickly realized he didn't actually know their number or if they even had one so shook his head.

Bella looked annoying sympathetic and Harry felt his dislike for her creep back in.

"Edward will be here soon, he might be able to help with your arm. But you should really see Carlisle he's amazing at his job. Charlie, my dad, he's the police chief so he'll sort that guy out." Harry wondered why she was trying to comfort him but didn't really care enough to continue this line of thought.

"Bella!" came a voice Harry hadn't heard before. Both he and Bella turned to see a man dressed in police uniform approaching them, he was rather attractive for a middle aged man, with a thick mustache and a well built figure. This must be Charlie.