FALLEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.

"I-It's nothing, Belle. It's dry, anyways." He cleared his throat, beginning to look uncomfortable. I narrowed my eyes at him, his grip loosening on my wrist.

"Show me," I shakily uttered, inwardly having a bad feeling about it. His jaw clenched and he arched a brow. I could see a hint of amusement cross his eyes, but it was over clouded by another emotion.

"No." He flatly said, dropping his hand away from my wrist. I frowned at that, ignoring the little spark of rejection igniting in my stomach. He cleared his throat, placing his hand on my thigh. I peered at him, pushing up my glasses.

"Now, tell me." He motioned for me to speak. I stared back at him for a few seconds, before shaking my head.

"N-No, not until I see what you're hiding." I whispered, and this time, I didn't hesitate to pull of his unzipped grey hoodie. I felt his eyes on me as I tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, wanting it off. I glanced up at him.

He looked as if he wanted to protest, and want me to back away from him. But he made no single movement. I begged with my eyes, hoping he would give in and let me see him. Eventually, a deep sigh left his lips and he pulled of his shirt, a bubble of relief building in my throat.

Although, the second I saw what he was hiding from my eyes - the relief completely shattered. My eyes widened, feeling my mouth part slightly. All across his chest were gashes, bruises, cuts - all looking fresh. My heart dropped as I flickered my eyes towards him for a second, his brows drew as he stared at me.

"Sam." I shakily called.

"W-What h-happened?" I managed to choke out, my eyes already pricking with tears. He held a gaze with me, but kept silent. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch his beaten chest, trying my hardest to be gentle. Carefully, I let a finger glide over his chest, a small wince leaving his lips. 

My heart broke.

"It was Joan," He flatly said, yet I could hear the hidden pain in his words. A spark of rage ached inside of me, when hearing the name. After all the thoughts running through my mind, it had slipped from my mind for a second that he was the one behind this separation. If he hadn't sent Sam to isolation, he wouldn't be in the state he was today.

"What did he do?" I questioned, hiding all my emotion. His eyes narrowed a little, my hands still skimming over his cuts. There were some even bleeding.

"They whipped me. He had them whip me." He rasped, his voice quiet. I swallowed the bile in my throat, glancing back into his hazel eyes. They held pain - so much pain.

I didn't say anything as I broke our gaze and stood up from our current position. I stood onto my feet, walking over to the draw where I kept the first aid kit. His eyes followed my every movement, making me shiver lightly. I pulled out this box and made my way back over to him, seeing his eyes glance down at the box in my hand, briefly.

"Lay down on your back," I softly instructed. He paused for a lingering second, before complying and laying down on his back. I let out a deep breath, opening the box and pulling out a bottle of anti-bacterial liquid, hoping it would do some justice to his wounds. I dabbed some on a plain white cotton bud, and began to gently place it against his hurts.

His eyes were locked on me the entire time, as if he was memorized by me. I inwardly smiled, feeling myself outwardly blush like a little school girl. He winced, grimaced, and groaned faintly when I found myself wiping his bloody wounds. I felt a painful lump grow in my stomach.

"I-Is it just your f-front?" I questioned, he looked as if he wanted to say no, but shook his head and swiftly turned to lie on his stomach. Carefully, might I add.