Luna Queen

2.5 - Soulmates

2.5 - Soulmates

Sativa
A string of harshly spat profanities sprung out of his lips before his collapsed on the chair that I had previously sat on. Laying his head on the wall behind it, he grunted as his eyes fluttered shut, not before giving me a perilous stare.

The sound of my heartbeat could be well heard over the sound of his heavy breaths, the thick, oozing substance of blood was running down and dripping unto the newly scrubbed floors. And, the putrid smell of Rogues and blood radiating from the man. However, that wasn't the only scent. If I breathed in deep, I could catch the faint scent of musk, forest and most of all, coffee. The odd scents mixed and matched together, sending me into a joyous heaven.

I stood there watching for a full minute, his breathing had become more labored, it was then I realized how terribly useless I was being.

The sound of the quick flurries of my footsteps resounded around the room as I dashed into the back kitchen. I didn't bother to flip the light switch, as I knew the place by heart. I reach up into the familiar cabinet, the creaking of it the least of my worries. It was a flimsy First Aid kit, and most of the alcohol in it had long expired. And, I knew I couldn't ask him to go to a hospital, for that would be plain foolishness.

Holding the white and red box close to my chest, I race back into the diner, half-afraid that I was coming back to meet a corpse. Without another word, I pulled out a chair to sit directly opposite him, and ignoring the warning bells and shivers that ran through me, I leaned closer.

"I won't bite," my hand jerked in surprise as his accentuated voice filled the room once more. "Not unless you want me to," the corners of his lips turned up slightly in amusement as my face heated up profusely.

I murmur something non-understandable even to myself; I was lost in a man.

I carefully pull the cotton wool from the wad and dip it into the alcohol. His eyes were trained on me as my arm inched closer and closer to his. Goosebumps rising, clearly not because of the cold weather. For a second, I hesitate. I knew there wasn't a possible way to get this done. One that, although obviously used to pain, wouldn't like this a lot.

"Do it," the man grunted out, the boots pressing against the side of my plastic chair.

"Do what?" I curse myself at the way that I sounded - so pathetical, that I had to clear my throat thrice, before I trusted myself to speak once again. "I mean, what do you mean?" I sigh internally at my childish elocution - I was miserably, weirdly pathetic.

Chuckling, his eyes cornered mine. "You know what I am taking about."

True.

"Ok," I agree quietly.

I didn't know whether it was because of my long day, or the fact that I completely mesmerized by his form - but, I willingly obliged with all of his commands.

It was something, that I have never done before - to anyone regardless of who you are and where you come from. He was different, I did not know how, but he just partly was.

Picking up the entire bottle, I hold it over the gash. I count down from five, before emptying half the bottle into his injured arm.

"Nothing," I mutter as the room stays silent. The strange man hadn't even acknowledged that something had been poured onto his arm, talk less of it being an alcohol of such intense nature.

"Nothing."

"Did you expect something?"

I let his question fade, as I continue concentrating on the numerous gashes and open wounds that he had plastered on his arm, "I think you'll need to go to the hospital," I sigh, dropping the blood soaked cotton-wool into the box. Trying to wipe my bloody fingers on the small, white napkins.