The badass and the nerd (jelena story)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Selena's POV 

I pour a little alcohol onto a piece of cotton ball and dab it on Justin's lip causing him to squeeze my thigh gently. 

I suck in a little breath at the pain but he instantly lets go. 

"That's unhygienic." He laughs as he swallows the drink, before taking another swig of it and I laugh.

After a couple of minutes, his breathing seems to stop.

You know how they asked what your last meal would be if you're going to be executed.

That's how it was now.

Being fucked would be their last meal before execution.

I killed 2 men. 

I shake my head, feeling my heart race a little but I suddenly feel Justin's hand on my shorts causing me to snap out.

"Sorry." He whispers, softly pressing into my skin and I let out a harsh breath, gripping tightly on the edge of his shorts. 

It's not him, it's me. 

"It's fine, you can hold me if you're in pain." I state, laughing a little and he nods, looking down. 

I sigh, adjusting myself on his lap. 

"You-u ok?" Justin asks, staring at me in worry and I nod, continuing to patch his lip up. Once I finish, I work on his eye, which I realise is completely swollen.

"Justin come downstairs, so I can ice your eye." I state, getting up from him and he nods, trying to stand but falls back down. I mentally smack myself at my stupidity.

He's freaking hurt Selena and you're making him stand by himself.

"One sec." I state, placing Justin's arm around my shoulders before strolling him downstairs. I go to the kitchen and Justin sits on one stool.

I grab an ice pack, wrapping a towel around it since it's too cold and hand it to Justin. He holds it, whispering a quick thank you, and places it gently on his eye.

Damn, I want pasta but would Justin like it?

Wait do I care?

Nope.

I quickly chop the vegetables and grate the cheese before boiling the pasta. 

"W-what are you cooking?" I hear Justin's voice behind me and I turn to see him staring intensely. 

Bruh, he saw me do the whole thing. 

"A dead corpse." I joke, rolling my eyes playfully and I see his eyes widen in fear as he becomes pale.

Did he really think I'm cooking a dead corpse? Like okay, I killed 2 people. Well, when the police find out, they'll think they killed themselves by the alcohol after fucking themselves.

They both basically had a liver problem because of obsessive drinking.

I glance towards him. "Dude I'm cooking pasta not a corpse." I reply, laughing for a couple of seconds as I shake my head.

"Well, it's not my fault, I barely know you who knows what you do." I hear him mumble and I can't help but glare at him.

Is that so?

"Really, then are you scared of me?" I ask with a smirk but he looks at me with eyes widened. I tilt my head, looking at him innocently even though I'm mentally murdering him.