"He has a soul so pure, so full of love and good intentions, that it deserves to be saved. I just hope that I can be his knightess in shining armor, that I can help him get out of his hell, without entering my own."
I wake up from the sound of something smashing in the living room.
Not that I had any amount of good rest this night, but just when I thought I could get at least a bit of shuteye I hear his voice booming through the apartment.
I jump out of bed and throw on one of my brother's sweaters before I open the door.
"Shit. Lincoln!" He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, one hand covering the other while thick, red liquid drops on the carpet in front of him.
"What did you do?!" I walk towards him before I kneel on the carpet, my hand reaching forward to look at his own. He hisses when I grab the wrist of his right hand, his head snapping up in an almost threatening gesture. We hold our gaze for a second, and I can literally see how he's studying me, reading me like he needs to figure out if he can trust me or not.
"I broke the glass." He nods towards the long drink glass he held earlier, which is now broken into dozens of pieces on the floor.
"Come with me." I slowly get back on my feet, still holding his wrist between my fingers to pull him with me, his eyes following my movement. They hold so much pain in them, it's really fucking hard not to pity him. I know what it's like to be pitied when you just want to forget the miseries of your life, which is why I just shoot him a gentle smile as he slowly gets on his feet.
We move towards the bathroom where I open the cabinet to grab my first aid kit, which I usually use to bandage up my big brother's fist after he got into a fight because of me, once again.
"Here, sit." I move him towards the bathtub and he steadily takes a seat on the edge of it, his eyes always on mine as I kneel between his feet, the bleeding hand now right in front of me.
"That's a nasty cut." My voice is gentle, almost like I need it to be tender in order to clean his wound with caution as well. I start dabbing the pad along the cut which starts at the base of his thumb and goes all the way to the center of his wrist. At least it's clean, no vicious splinters or rugged edges.
After I grab a disinfectant wipe I gently pat across the wound as well, making sure it's as clean as it gets. Unsurprisingly, Lincoln hisses at the contact of the wipe to his skin, and I find myself squeezing his other hand to support him, his eyes always watching my every move.
"You're good at that." He states, and I have to suppress the smile at the fact that he actually speaks now.
"Yeah, my brother has a tendency to... let's say, be overdramatic. I'm basically a nurse in my free time." I smile quickly at him before looking back at the wound. As I start to place a gauze pad on his wound to bandage him up, he hisses again and then suddenly starts laughing, his head shaking as he studies the wound on his hand.
"What's so funny?" I ask while bandaging up his wound, but he just shakes his head again as another laugh escapes his throat, and it almost looks like there are tears in his eyes, even though I don't think they're tears of joy.
"It's just..." He bursts out laughing again, and as soon as I tuck the end of the bandage beneath the part at the back of his hand, he moves it in front of his face, rotating it left and right, studying it like a piece of art. His fingers ball into fists, making him hiss from the pain before he opens it again.
YOU ARE READING
What happens when a man who should be at the top of the world suddenly decides to take his life? Lincoln, a pediatric surgeon who has been confronted with more than one disaster in the past weeks, is convinced his life is not worth living anymor...