Trapped In Your Bleeding Heart (Riff x Reader)

Chapter Eleven - Connection

I went to my bag and took another cotton swab. My hand started to shake nervously as I grabbed the witch-hazel.

Get a grip, it's not a big deal.

Was I scared? Or nervous for another reason? Part of me didn't want to know. I went back to the desk where Riff sat and placed the materials next to his chair. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I took a damp rag that I had been using, and walked to his side. He was tall, and now that I was closer, I could tell how firmly built he was. He was strong.

I suppose he'd have to be- to win a fight outnumbered like that.

Even when he sat and I stood, our heights– our faces– were closer than I was comfortable with. I gripped the rag and placed it gently onto his lips. I could feel my heart quickening as I dragged the cloth over his mouth to rid it of blood.

Under the dried blood was a cut, likely caused by a punch to the mouth. I grimaced at the thought. With the cut on his leg– and the sprained wrist? Those Sharks definitely didn't go easy on him.

To think, he still beat all three...

Is Bernardo sure this rumble is a good idea?

The newly exposed cut on Riff's lip began to bleed again. Without thinking, I ran my thumb over the cut to catch the small amount of blood. Riff opened his eyes and I froze, my thumb still firmly placed over the cut. I had been leaning over him, hardly aware of the fact our faces were only inches apart. Now his size made me anxious again.

"Ouch." He said dryly.

I retracted my hand quickly. "Sorry. The cut opened again."

He leaned his head forward, so that he was no longer looking towards the ceiling. "Yeah, 'cause you abused it." He mumbled, wiping the back of his hand along the injury.

I grabbed the witch-hazel and applied some of it onto a cotton swab. This time, instead of tilting his head back, Riff simply looked up to me, his eyes examining the cotton. "Is that gonna sting?" He asked.

"No more than it did when you got hit in the first place." I replied.

He smiled slightly. More blood came out of the cut. "Good lord." I muttered, grabbing his chin and directing it up to me.

I dabbed the wound with the witch-hazel cotton swab. Riff made a face, but didn't say anything. When I was done, I smiled, and looked up to Riff's eyes. "All done!" I exclaimed softly.

My hand was still holding his chin up towards me, and once again, I felt as though our faces were too close for comfort. But this time I didn't turn away, or release him. Because he was looking at me. Directly at me. Into my eyes– through my eyes– as if he saw something more than just another human. And I stared back. Why weren't we talking? Why wasn't he saying anything?

His eyes flickered down to my lips. I inhaled a quick, shaky breath.

"Sparky, what's the verdict?" Valentina called, bursting out of the basement.

I yelped and stumbled backwards, crashing into the desk. Riff sat forward and placed his hands around my waist, steadying my balance. I set my left hand back onto the desk, feeling around for the rag. "I'm just–" I took the rag and crossed over to my backpack. "Just packing up."

She took a look at Riff. "Well, it looks like you did a good job!" She came up to me and clasped my hand. "Really, Sparky, I owe ya."

Riff stood and ran the back of his hand under his nose, as if it were still bleeding. "It's been a pleasure, Val." He nodded to Valentina, then looked to me. "Doll." He farewelled, nodding again.

I watched him go. Watched him strut away with a slight limp, shaking out his fractured wrist as if he had just landed a punch. A few moments after he left, Valentina let out a low, sultry hum. "You like him." She said.

"I hardly know him." I responded, almost in an attempt to convince myself of the fact.

"It doesn't seem that way, though, does it?" She asked.

I let my eyes linger on the door, though Riff was already long gone. "But you live with Bernardo." She added. "So it's complicated. Forbidden."

How did she know I lived with Bernardo? I slung my bag over my shoulder. "I should go-"

"I understand, you know." She said, "My love was forbidden as well."

I looked back at her. "How'd you do it?" I asked involuntarily.

She smiled at me. "I just loved him. And he loved me. And then," she paused, placing a hand on my shoulder, "there was a place for us."

In that moment, I could feel her love. I could feel the passion she lived with– the heart she trusted and followed. I looked down to the ground in shame. Valentina's love was not the same as mine. I couldn't tell the simple difference between fear and infatuation. How was I supposed to know my emotions well enough to live with them unapologetically?

"Don't look so down in the dumps, Sparky." She said. "You have time to figure things out."

. . .

When I returned to the apartment, Anita and Bernardo had turned in for the night. I quietly walked down the hall and passed the bathroom to Maria and I's room. "Mare?" I whispered, opening the door slowly.

She was sitting on a chair, wearing her pajamas and brushing her hair sweetly. "He loves me." She sighed dreamily.

"Dear lord." I mumbled.

Author's note: they r in luv