To This Day

Chapter Fifteen: I Need You

Ouch. Of course he didn't like violence. I moved to sit beside him, resting a hand on his back.

"Sorry if I'm overstepping by coming here, I know we're exactly in the best place right now," Carter mumbled. "I just... I was feeling kind of shaken up, I guess, and I was on my way home but then next thing I knew I was walking up to your door. I can leave if you want."

I took a deep breath, biting down hard on my bottom lip. I was glad that the dim lighting of my lamp meant he couldn't see me clearly. It took everything in me to keep my emotions in check, to restrain myself from crying or kissing him or both.

"Hey, I love you, remember?" I said quietly, nudging his side with my shoulder. Even just saying it casually felt like I was tearing out my heart and handing it to him, but I meant it and wanted him to know. "I've always got your back, Carter. Always."

He nodded, staring down at his hands. Swallowing thickly against the lump in my throat, I stood up briskly. "Let's see what kind of shape you're in then, shall we?"

When I flicked the main lights on, I saw that Carter was in an even worse state than I'd realised. A large bruise was blossoming across his cheekbone which would inevitably become a black eye by the morning, punctured by a deep red cut scarily close to his eye. His knuckles were covered in small cuts, too, and I noticed a slight tremor in his hands.

I walked back to the bed, this time crouching in front of him so that my eye level was below his. Gently, I wrapped my hands around his, feeling how cold they were. I looked up at him, close enough to kiss him, if I were to try.

It hurt to look at him. He was beautiful in a way that always surprised me when I saw him up close. But, beyond that, beyond the injuries, even, there was a pain in his face that made my heart hurt. It was the most open I'd ever seen him, as though he no longer had the energy to hide anything.

"I'll go and get some stuff to clean your cuts, okay?" I murmured.

Again, he silently nodded. For someone usually so charismatic and confident, it was disconcerting to see him looking so small and vulnerable.

I returned to my bedroom a minute later, armed with supplies from the bathroom. Crouching back down in front of him, I dipped cotton wool pads into a bowl of warm water and dabbed them against his cuts, working my way from his cheek to his lip and then his hands.

"I would never get into a fight on purpose, Sydney," Carter said, unexpectedly breaking the silence between us. "I need you to know that."

"I know that," I told him. I carefully took hold of one of his hands in mine as I continued to clean the cuts on his knuckles.

"And I'm not a bad person, I swear." At this, his voice cracked. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were glassy under the light.

"I know, Carter, I know," I repeated soothingly. I put down the cotton wool and reached up to brush a stray lock of golden hair from his forehead.

His eyes locked with mine, wide and anguished. When he next spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

Tearing my eyes from him, I picked up a tube of antiseptic cream and squeezed a small amount onto my finger, then began dabbing it onto his cuts.

"Do you remember when I told you I had bad in me, that I didn't want you to know the worst of me?" he asked. I nodded, unsure where this was headed. "Well, I think you deserve to know the worst now... so you can be informed in your decisions."

"My decisions?"

He coughed awkwardly. "To, uh, love me."

Despite everything, a small smile crept onto my face. "That was never a decision, Carter. I mean, I actively tried not to love you, but it was impossible. You wormed your way into my heart when I was thirteen and, try as I might, I never managed to get you out."