Anesthesia

[17]

He did it again.

He heard the same song, the same lyrics of Undone coming from the place where her first saw her and he followed it until it got louder. He stopped next to the door instead of the window, leaned against the door and watched her silently, folding his arms.

She was struggling to stand on her toes and spin. On her face was a look of deliberation and pain. Her hands were above her head, her fingers entwined and her toes were the only thing in contact with the ground. All the time, he saw her struggling. Struggling to be good. Struggling to be free. Struggling to be flawless.

She winced loudly and fell back on her heels, her eyes plastered with hopelessness and all he could do was watch her do this all by herself. But all she did was walk over to the radio and stop the music.

Maybe he had sighed a little too loud and she spun around to see that he was standing there. "Stalker much?" She asked sarcastically.

He shrugged, his curved into a slight smirk. "I thought you were better than that." He deadpanned, his smirk getting wider.

"Yeah. Ha ha. Very funny." She spoke in a deadly serious voice, giving him a death glare before collapsing near the huge mirror and bringing her knees up to her chest. He wordlessly sat down next to her, one knee propped up, and looked at her. She had a pained expression on her face, her eyes halfway to tears as she glanced at her bandaged ankle.

It wasn't until a part inside him soon blurted out. "Can I see it?"

She passed his a glare along with a look of disbelief. "Hey dude, I don't even know who you are, alright?" She began. "And I was trying to be nice to you the other day but you were really rude towards me and told me to piss off. And I still don't understand why you are here right now? You here to make fun of me? Apologize to me which I doubt by the way? Come to know more about that stupid rumor? Stalking me? Well, you know what? Newsflash: I don't care. I don't give a shit about what you have to say right now. I don't give a shit about what you doing here. And I don't give shit about you, get it? So why don't you just piss off, jerk?!"

He didn't say anything or remove his gaze from her. Even when her attention was drifted towards the bandage on her ankle. Soon, he said in a deeper and more demanding voice. "Can I see it?"

She looked up at him, her hands frozen in the position, which gave him the opportunity. Soon, his fingers fumbled with the thin fabric gently until the wound was unveiled a deep, maroon wound. He had never seen any wound like this. "What the-" He whispered.

"It's a gunshot." She murmured bitterly before snatching the bandage from the ground and covering it up.