Bad Boy's Queen

7; Taking Care of The Bad Boy

Gently, I cup his chin and push his head up so I can see his face better. He still refuses to make eye contact and instead stares at something behind me just beside my head. He almost looks vulnerable and broken, but I know better. This will only urge him to put up a stronger wall. As soon as I'm done he's going to turn cold again. Someone like Hunter isn't going to change because of something as 'silly' as this.

I make sure to wipe the blood around the wound, careful not to directly touch the cuts. I then fold the towel in half and press the clean part of the towel to the split in his lips first and then move on to his cheek and some scrape on his jaw and temple. If it hurts, he doesn't show it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I speak softly in the midst of pressing the towel to the scrape on his temple. He only sneers, moving away from the towel a little, almost like he's trying to say he's not in the mood. I grit my teeth, clenching my teeth together so forcefully my jaw aches and my head spins. I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

I drop my hand and usher him to move away. When he does I almost regret it. As he steps away, his warmth also leaves with him. I shiver when the cool air envelopes my body again, seeping through my school jacket and skirt.

Hunter growls under his breath when he glances at his reflection. I sigh, deciding to push my luck anyway. "Where did your family go?" He only shrugs carelessly.

I scrub my hands with my nails, washing the blood off my hands. I scrub it until it turns red and irritated. No matter how much I cleanse and wash and wipe, I can still feel the blood all over my hand. It rests heavy and thick on my skin but whenever I look it's not there.

"I've still got to bandage you up."

He grunts. "I'll do it myself later." He pushes past me, walking into his bedroom and laying on the bed but still making sure nothing accidentally touches his face. I make sure to clean up all the specks of blood in the bathroom before exiting.

One of his arms rests on his stomach and the other on his forehead. His face is scrunched up, but I don't know if that's from discomfort or pain.

 I hear a car pulling into the driveway. I move towards the window, peeking through the closed blinds. "How do I get past your parents and sister without them noticing?" I keep my eyes trained on them as they pull out groceries from the boot of the car.

I hear shuffling from behind me before a figure is pressing up against my back, also trying to see outside. I shiver when he unintentionally exhales a gust of air onto my ear and neck for the second time today. His back brushes itself against my torso, not firm, but just enough that I can feel someone's there. I count to three to refocus myself.

He's pressed up against my back. He smells nice. One.

If I just push myself back a little. Two.

I'm not going to do it. I'm not. Three.

And so I don't because by three he has already moved, leaving me to look out the window by myself, although there's nothing to look out to. I let out a puff of air I haven't even realised I've been holding onto. As soon as I turn, I hear the front door opening and closing before loud chatters and laughs fill the once quiet house.

He must have noticed my nervous expression because he immediately sighs and ushers me to follow him. We walk along the hallway and then down the stairs. I try to keep up but I've never really been good at staying quiet.