Chapter Twenty-Four

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Sorry for the late update! I've just finished all my exams, so hopefully updates will be regular now ☺️

This chapter's a bit crappy, so my apologies 😂 thank you for reading!

|UNEDITED|

This wasn't right.

This was not right. Not in the slightest. The way his lips brushed against mine, the way our breathes mingled with one another, and even the way our foreheads touched gently together. The burning sensation wherever his touch was. Everything was wrong. But why did it feel right?

He has a girlfriend, Ardella.

The voice in my head was quick to remind me of that, and for that I was thankful. He had Kimmy. He couldn't be here with me, in this moment, debating on whether or not to close the gap that measured a hairline. He had a good thing going for him. He had a future. I'd be damned if I was about to act as a home wrecker and break that.

I wish that I could say sense was why I broke out gaze, realised my wrong doing and that be it. But it wasn't. The colour of a hazy red and grazes were the cause of why I'd broken the trance we had been trapped in, averting my eyes down to the hands that had moulded against my cheeks.

My breathing was shallow as I took in the painful swelling that arose from his right hand knuckles, covered with cuts that smudged blood all over them. I suppressed a wince at the sight. I hadn't realised it before, too caught up in other things, but the stench of metallic burdened my nose.

"Emerson..." I exhaled, my gaze focused solely on his beat up hand with nothing but pure concern. He's hurt because of me. He's hurt because of me.

The thought broke me like I was glass that had just been shattered, the shards digging into my aching heart.

Emerson was quick to let his eyes avert to where mine were focused, his scrunched eyebrows of confusion immediately settling as he realised my sudden worry.

Gingerly, I raised a shaking palm up towards his own, taking it within my gentle grasp with the caution of whether I was hurting him or not. He made a slight flinch of affliction, but his stance never wavered. My eyes may have been on his hand, but I could feel his burning gaze begin to burn. He was watching my every movement, calculating what I was going to do next.

Wordlessly, I shifted to the side swiftly, the grasp of his hand in mind never ceasing as I lead him over towards his office chair.

He made no move to protest, not even a peek. He just obeyed the unspoken orders and sat down, his hand resting against his desk, almost as though he knew what I was about to do.

"Where's your first aid box?" I cleared my throat in an attempt to shift away from the tension that had unleashed itself onto us. Not even moments ago were we pressed against one another, nearly kissing. And suddenly everything was awkward and the air felt dense. He probably regretted it. He had a girlfriend who he'd nearly just betrayed. Why wouldn't he?

Without a sound, Emerson's left hand reached over towards one of his desk draws, effectively sliding it open to reveal a couple of medical supplies scattered around. I didn't hesitate in grabbing the packet of wipes as well as a bandage.

Setting them on his desk, I kneeled down beside his chair, peeling one of antiseptic wipes from the packet, forcing his hand to be held in the palm of my own.

The cuts weren't as bad as I thought they would be, once I'd cleared away all the dries blood, all that remained were sore cuts. Emerson hadn't flinched once when the antiseptic collided with his skin. He just allowed me to care for him, in the process never taking his eyes off me.

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