𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ

Each time he parted his lips, the stitches in his cheeks stretched, holding together his flesh due to the aftermath of the explosion—of the shattered glass that had carved holes in his body. A touch to his ear revealed that it, too, was wrapped in mesh and bandages.

It took him a moment to truly realize what he'd done to himself.

To realize that he'd placed himself in such a daunting predicament because of rage.

He needed to get out—he needed to find him.

"W-wh—"

Kai touched his throat without thinking, feeling tape, bandages, and the intricate little lines of multiple stitches. He tried to clear the lump inside, tried to rid the gaspiness overlining the cracks and crevices of his voice, but the more he managed, the more he could taste the tang of his own blood.

"Please, don't," a voice interrupted his examination.

Kai let his hand fall into the rough sheets as he glanced up and finally spotted the unknown presence he'd felt a few minutes ago. She emerged from underneath the shadows of the cabinets, dressed in light blue scrubs that only made the pain in his chest throb.

She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and slowly ambled over, keeping her chin pressed to her chest in a terror he knew was manipulated by his cold gaze. He watched her movements like a cat until her shaky fingers wrapped around a cup to his side.

"Water?" she asked.

Kai nodded and went to grab it.

But the nurse pushed his hand away and seized him by the chin. Not unkindly, but harsh enough that she pushed it up and parted his lips, slipping the rim between them without hesitation. Kai wanted to narrow his eyes—wanted to punch her in the face for touching him without permission—but for some reason, he kept his commentary to himself and sipped.

Maybe it was the fright shaking through her fingertips.

Maybe it was because, despite it, she was still standing so close. 

The nurse tried to smile as he finished, but it barely climbed up her face.

He realized then that it was because of him—because even though he'd chosen to bottle his temperament, it didn't mean it went anywhere. Half-moons were carved into the thickness of his palms. Hot coals were slanted over the tiles, burning both of them with each motion.

Kai acknowledged that he was still associating this stranger with the anger he had when he passed out in the woods. But that did not soothe him. It did not stroke the flames until they were tamed and back in his control.

It made them worse.

His irises burned as the nurse placed the cup down and backed up.

"Wh-where," Kai tried again.

"You shouldn't talk too much," the nurse pleaded, "Your voice box was damaged in the accident."

"Where a-am I," he said anyway, ignoring the fact that it sounded childlike and pathetic.

He knew he should be listening.

He knew that the amount of force he'd used just to get those three words out was enough to make his eyes water and his ears strain. And still—it came out all wrong—breathy and choppy and not at all like the voice he'd spent the last twenty-three years hearing.

Kai knew that the rocks scratching the innards of his throat weren't there because he'd had a minor misunderstanding with someone his family and friends had trusted. He knew that she urged him not to speak, not for her own cognizance, but because he'd likely had surgery on it.