Bloodline [h.s.]

thirty-two.

"Everything will be okay." I whispered.

It was a simple phrase that has been said millions times, but I don't think anyone has ever told him that before. Whether or not I was right, he needed to hear it. He replied so quietly that I couldn't make put what he said.

He wired his eyes closed to stop crying. My forehead leaned against the side of his head while my fingers traced the veins in his hands until he calmed down.

"Thank you for not listening to me. I didn't mean it. I don't you to leave." He hummed into my neck as he met the end of his panic.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere." I promised as I pressed my lips to his damp forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better...I'm sorry. I haven't...um... this hasn't happened to me on a really long time. I didn't think it would... I'm sorry." He said, feeling uncomfortable in the aftermath.

"Don't apologise. Contrary to what your mentor has told you, emotions aren't something to be embarrassed of. You need to feel sometimes, even the bad things."

The whites of his eyes were pink from the flood that broke passed the gates he's kept locked all this time. He pulled away, examining the mess of blood on my shirt from his hand and forehead.

"C'mon, let's get the mirror out of your knuckles." I smiled, knowing how much he didn't want to continue the conversation. Relief melted the pained look on his face, making me chuckle.

"What?" He asked, standing up.

"Pulling glass out of your bloody hand is more appealing to you than telling me how you feel." I laughed.

My observation was met with his rolling eyes. We used the guest room since the master bathroom was a disaster. He sat up onto the granite countertop while I searched for clean tweezers and a first aid kit.

"Wait," he said, glancing at the antiseptic wipes I pulled out, "you don't need that."

"The wound will get infected if I don't use it." I explained.

"Watches Grey's Anatomy twice through, and suddenly, you're a doctor." He muttered before giving me his hand. "Just do it."

He fixated on my every movement. As the pain of the Kai inflicted injuries set in, his unsteady breaths warmed my skin. The yelp he let out as the antiseptic grazed the raw lacerations robbed the soul from my body.

"Jesus! Aiden, stay still." I gasped in startle after he snatched his hand away.

"That fucking hurt." He said through his gritting teeth.

"It wouldn't hurt as much if you would let me take you to the emergency room."

"No, no hospitals." He said firmly. Another thing I still didn't understand about him. For someone who's been injured as often as he has, he hated hospitals and doctors. It started to seem like a fear of his.

"What about my family's private physician? He could come here and stitch you up without you stepping foot in a hospital." I proposed.

"No, he will go straight to your father to tell him anything he sees." He objected. "Just keep going. I'll stay as still as I can."