Hard worry

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I opened the door to his room.
Thanking every god that it was open. I see him laid on the bed, the black hoodie and undershirt tossed to the hamper.
His whole stomach if covered with dry blood and on his side there a gaping wound.

"What are you-"
"What happened?!" I asked, covering my mouth in fear of being overheard.

He placed hand on his night stand ripping the drawer open.
Wet wipes and alcohol were taken out. I walked over to his side to help him.
"What happened?"
"I got in an argument with a friend." He said casually taking the wipes I handed to him with shaky hands.
"What kind of friend would shoot you?"

"He's very sensitive." He said, I was in shock at how calm he was being while bleeding out.

"W-we should call the police." I said and he begins wiping his hard stomach.
"And tell them what?"
"That you got shot!"

"It was a misunderstanding. I'm sure he feels very sorry for his actions."
"He shot you!" I exclaimed.
"Yes and he feels plenty guilty about it already. get me a towel from the closet."

I couldn't process anything that he was saying, not with the loud sound of my rapidly beating heart.

"I'll do it myself." He said beginning to stand up.
"N-no. I can do it."

I didn't know which one of the doors was his closet but figured I'd just find out on the way.

When I opened the first door, I was hit with the heavy scent of just him. It made me realize how clean and fresh his room smelled, almost like no one lived there. No trace of any  personal scent.

His closet was in itself it's own high end shop, decorated by displays upon displays. Hoodies, shirts and formal wear, as many as they were were lined up straight and organized by color.
The only four colors he ever wore.
Grey, white, black and dark green.

I stopped admiring the gigantic closet and grabbed a towel on top of the hill of towels on a dark wood shelf.

I walked out and gave him the towel with shaky hands.
"Thank you." He said, he's sweating a lot and his hair is clinging on to his skin. He's letting out short breaths despite his careless attitude.

He wrapped the towel around himself where the wound is.

"You should go." He said and I frowned.
"No way. You got-"
"Shot, I noticed. They'll notice you've been gone for too long."
"I can't just leave you like this." I said anxiously.

"What can you do?" He asked and the question would've been belittling if he wasn't right.
"Go, I'll be taken care of." Vincenzo said and I bit my lip. Every ounce of sense I had told me not to leave someone bleeding out but another side of my brain recognized that there was nothing I could do if he was refusing to go to the hospital.

"Please call me." I ended up saying.
He doesn't say anything just applies pressure to his wound.

Once I got downstairs Vienna was sitting there alone typing away on her phone.
"Sorry Susan called and said I should come home." I said and she nods standing up.
"Should we get going?" She asked and I shook my head.
"Relax, I know your jeans are killing you. I'll walk home alone today." I said and she humming.

"Night." She said softly as we hugged tightly.

By the time I got outside I got a phone call from Kin.
I hesitantly answered looking up at the window to Vincenzo's bedroom.

"Hey." I said to Kin who began talking almost instantly. Serena appeared to be on the other line.
Something about him failing every class.
"Sara can tutor us right?"

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