✧Hidden Crystals ✧

Chapter 13

"I don't need your help," I said through gritted teeth.

"You haven't eaten in two whole days and you've been beaten up god knows how many times" He retorted back at me.

Deep down I knew I couldn't walk by myself even if I wanted to, so I let him continue to hold my arm. He guided me to the kitchen and sat me down in a chipped chair with a worn down table to accompany it. He looked through the pantry and drug out a can of something; he opened it with a knife and it made a terrible scratching sound. My eyes squinted in disgust from the noise. He turned around to the microwave and placed it in there. Once that had started up he grabbed a bowl and stood beside the microwave.

He turned and faced me, I broke eye contact and instead looked at his yellow coat. It was completely silent, the only thing that emitted any noise was the low hum of the microwave.

He cleared his throat, I looked back up at his mask, "So, are you going to tell me what you dreamt about. Or how the hell you managed to get that scratch on your face?"

I looked away from him and stared at my hands, I thought about it, "I don't wanna talk about it," I mumbled. Even the mention of that dream made me want to puke.  Suddenly the microwave let out a loud beeping noise and startled me.

He turned around to fix the soup up, now that his back was turned I could finally get a good look at him. He was very tall, it was no wonder he caught up with me so easily. His running strides must have been huge. His hair was a chestnut brown, it was ever so slightly grown out, but not enough for it to be so-called messy. The yellow jacket he was wearing looked a little worn out, it had a couple of rips and tears alongside with stains appearing every so often. If he wasn't trying to kill me I probably would say he looked nice, maybe.

He finished opening and pouring the soup and threw away the can. He turned to me and gave the bowl to me. The smell of the soup sent my stomach going wild. The hunger from the past couple of days had finally caught up to me. I grasped the spoon in my hands and picked up a spoonful of the hot liquid. I held it up to my mouth and blew on it so it wouldn't scold my mouth.

My hunger must have been really bad because it tasted like the best chicken noodle soup I had ever had. I didn't even care to blow on the next spoonful, I was entirely too hungry to. It burnt my throat but that felt a lot better than the achy feeling in my stomach. I got about half way done with devouring the soup when Masky spoke up.

"Don't eat too much, it'll hurt your stomach since you hadn't eaten anything in awhile," He said in a monotone voice, I nodded my head in response.

He looked at the cabinet and back at me, "Let me clean that wound before it gets infected," He got up and went over to the cabinet.

He pulled out a whole bunch of medical looking things and placed them at the table. He reached out his hand to grab my face but I jerked away. I was still scared of what those hands were capable of, I didn't want him anywhere near me.

"Stop being so stubborn , I'm just trying to clean your wound,"

He reached for me again but this time I moved out of the chair so it separated us. My legs were shaking but I gripped the table with my uninjured hand to steady myself. I stared into his mask, I swear I could hear his breathing.

"I can clean my own wound," I said in a low voice, the thoughts of him completely beating the shit out of me still lingered in my mind. I wanted to be as far away as I could, with that I could have a chance of fleeing from him.

He slammed the disinfectant on the table, I flinched at the noise. He slouched his shoulders and clenched his fists.

My breathing started to pick up, he looked as if he was going to lose it again, I started frantically looking around for something to defend myself with.