Finding Obsidian

06 - The Verdict

Rian began untying his apron, slinging it over his arm.

"W-what are you doing?" I stammered, still in a state of mild shock. After having his entire body pressed up against me, I was not comfortable with the idea of Rian taking off any items of clothing, even an apron.

"Your hand is still bleeding heavily. Until we get the bandage on it, I have to tie your arm to slow the blood loss."

"Is that really necessary?" I asked nervously. "It's not like I'm dying, and this amount of blood lost isn't fatal or anythi—"

My voice was abruptly cut off when Rian grabbed the first aid kit and yanked me forward, leading me by my uninjured hand towards a bench in the bathroom lounge. He sat me down and seized my other hand, extending it so it was perpendicular to my body. I watched him in stunned silence as he kneeled and deftly tied the string of the apron around my arm, tightening it to impede blood flow.

"Lecturing me about being careful in the kitchen," he muttered icily. "Shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?" He paused momentarily to glare into my face. "It wouldn't have been that bad. Why didn't you just let me bump into it? It was my mistake for leaving it there in the first place."

I stared into the dark depths before me. Yet again, I felt myself being swayed against my will, a lone swimmer in a black sea. Strangely, inevitably, I found myself telling him the truth.

"I didn't want you to get hurt," I murmured softly, entranced.

His eyes widened, and I felt his grip on my hand tighten almost imperceptibly. Inexplicably, I felt a wave of sadness come over me. As I continued to gaze into his eyes, I couldn't help but wonder: what exactly happened to him in the three years I was gone? He'd changed so much, to the point where I doubted if he was even the same person, despite having the same face. But other times—times like this—I could see just a glimmer of who he used to be.

Suddenly, Rian cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. The guard was back up, and it seemed as impenetrable as ever. "I have to disinfect it first. It will sting, so bear with it," he said, his voice as cold and impassive as always.

I sighed in defeat. "Don't worry," I murmured, closing my eyes. "Pain's an old friend of mine." Rian's hands paused momentarily before resuming their work. He didn't ask what I meant by it, so I simply assumed he hadn't heard me.

Mistake number four. But we'll get to that later.

I gritted my teeth as he dabbed the disinfectant on my palm. After a few moments, I felt the stinging fade away and he began wrapping gauze around my hand.

"Done." He got up, untying his apron from my arm and slinging it back around his waist, before placing the first aid kit back on the top shelf of the toiletry stand.

"Uh," I hesitated before smiling impishly. "Do you think you could leave that on the bottom shelf instead?" I asked sheepishly. Just in case a situation arose, I wanted it to be within reach. My reach, that is.

Rian looked at me through the corner of his eye. "Why?" he asked coolly. "Do you plan on getting hurt and needing it again?" he continued, his voice scarily calm. 

"Uh, no," I stammered. "Not at all, I just—"

"Then it should be fine leaving it where it is." He strode away from the toiletry stand, leaving the first aid kit stranded on top of it. 

I rolled my eyes. "So petty," I muttered under my breath.

"Did you say something?"

"No, nothing at all!" I chirped. "Shall we go back to class then?" I suggested. Rian nodded, barely glancing in my direction. I smiled wryly—things were back to normal now, huh?