The Original Bad Boy

9| Trust Me

"The original bad boy never trusts anyone . . . easily."

9| Trust me

"It's gonna look so wrong," I whine.

"More icing, less complaining," Arsen reprimands.

"Fine! Open your legs, then," I hiss and then groan.

"Well, aren't you a dirty blonde, Cruz?" he remarks more amused than anything else.

I suddenly hate my natural hair color.

Isa, the traitor, burst out laughing as I crouch down in front of Arsen (who's seated on a plastic chair). It's useless to check if anyone's watching us or not . . . because passerbys definitely are. Shutting my eyes, I press the ice pack against his inner thigh area, about a three or four inch distance from his knee.

What I don't understand is why can't help himself?

He's not five!

"You can put more pressure," he states, leaning his head back. Isa continues laughing, all wrong ideas in her mind. My cheeks burn from the embarrassment and I grow remorseful of selecting to ice his injuries. "Are you gonna give me a massage or not?" he asks Isa. She quickly follows the order and begins caressing her fingers against his dark hair in circular motions.

Her job's far more enjoyable.

I'd switch anytime.

"Damn Arsen, killin' it!" a guy passing by comments. I don't turn around to prevent anyone from seeing my face. As a matter of fact, I even picked up a pair of sunglasses from the ground and used them. Isa's wide grin concerns me about her facial muscles. I may or may not have to throw ice at those soon as well!

"I can't do this," I state in discomfort. On my way to stand up, my wrist is caught mid-way and Arsen brings it to his chest. His eyes remain shut and I freeze perplexed.

"I have a few injuries here," he says, releasing my hand and pulling down the zipper of his jacket. Underneath it, he wears a simple white tee. I meet his eyes for a brief moment and he gestures towards the left area of his chest.

"I think your heart's cold enough already," I mutter in a tone frostier than the ice in my hand.

He remains collected and tugs down his tee, tearing it in the process, revealing a bruised up area above the heart. My face falls. Because Arsen showed no pain, we established he didn't have anything major--not even such a massive purple area covering his muscles. Isa looks away painfully. It's worse for me since Arsen expects me to ice the area, yet the only action I complete is stare at the hurt part.

This guy confuses me beyond the limits of the universe.

"You can admire the sight another time, Cruz," he says in irritation. "C'mon." Feeling awful, I press the ice pack against the bruise and hear him inhale sharply. He lets out an exaggerated sigh. No matter how much I despise him currently, I still caused this situation to happen. I caused him pain. Right in the heart! Not something to be proud of. "Where's your third friend?"

Yeah, where is Danie?

Did she ditch us here?

"Didn't you send her on a third task?" Isa points out.

"It doesn't take half an hour to--never mind." He stops abruptly. "One of you go find Marco and fetch a painkiller from him for me. And a water bottle."

"Not it!" I quickly say.

"That's not fair!" Isa protests.

"Would you just go?!" Arsen snaps. "I don't want any more of your useless massage. It's worsening my headache." I stick my tongue out at Isa who, after making strange air movements of punching Arsen if she gets the opportunity, leaves resentfully. I switch hands icing Arsen's heart, standing by his side. His fingers slowly brush the back of my hand and begin guiding my hand to the other side of his chest.