This oneshot may contain Inappropriate language, if a warning needs to be added please let me know.
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Warning(s) — Injury and mentions of blood and stitches.
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Content Creators — Sapnap, Dream and Georgenotfound
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Sapnap POV
"Hey, do you guys want milkshakes? I was planning on making myself one." I ask, taking my legs out of the pool and standing up.
"Umm, can I have a vanilla one please?" George asks and I nod, looking at Clay for his response.
"I'll have the same." He smiles and I roll my eyes playfully.
"Ya'll are so boring." I say as I open the sliding doors and make my way to the kitchen.
"Hey Alexa, play something from my Spotify playlist." I call as I start grabbing the ingredients for the milkshakes.
The song, which I think is called 'Heart-Shaped Box', starts playing and I start to head bop to the loud music.
I place the milk and vanilla ice-cream on the counter, the only reason I'm not having chocolate is because I can't be bothered to make two different batches. I bend down and open the cupboard to find the blender.
Ping
I grab the blender and check my phone.
'Turn the music down, we're going to get a noise complaint😐'
I can automatically tell that it's George who send the message without even checking the name, he always uses perfect spelling and punctuation and will call us out if we don't.
I smirk and send back 'nope' before turning my phone off.
"Hey Alexa! Turn the music up!" I call over the already loud music. The music volume rises, and I can no longer hear the sound of the washing machine from the other room anymore.
I absentmindedly start opening the ice-cream, heating up the scooper so it's easier to scoop the ice-cream. My head bopping to the song has transformed into me also screaming the lyrics. Anything to piss off my best friends, right?
I move over to where I left the blender, I open the lid and go to bring it over to the ice-cream tub and the power point, not really thinking about where I grab it.
"Ow, fuck." I hiss, dropping the blender on the ground instantly. I couldn't hear it drop to the floor over the music so George and Clay probably wouldn't have either.
I look down at my hand, I grimace at the pain and sight of it. I must've grabbed the blade of the blender by accident. The slice is a perfect straight line along the middle of my hand, oozing with blood.
"Alex! Turn off the music!" I yell, not being able to handle the loud music with my panicking.
Okay shit, what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Holding my hand out, palm facing up, I pick up the blender with my other hand, slightly seeing some blood on the blade. I place it into the sink and stare at my throbbing hand.
Fuck it hurts. I could wrap it with something? But aren't you supposed to use a disinfectant cream or something first?
My vision turns somewhat blurry with tears. This is one hundred percent the worst pain I've felt in my life. I blink my eyes to get rid of the tears clouding my vision. The only option I really have is to call for the others, I groan at the thought.
I grab a one of the tea towels lying around and wrap it around my hand.
I walk out of the kitchen and open the sliding doors once again; they stop mid-conversation, noticing my presence. They look at me confused, not seeing my wrapped hand because I've hid it behind my back.
"Uhh.. Nick?" Clay says, probably even more confused on why I'm standing in the doorway not saying anything.
George raises his eyebrow at me while Clay looks at me expectantly.
I clear my throat, "So I might've cut my hand and now it's bleeding." I explain, bringing my hand out from behind me and unwrapping the tea towel from it.
"Holy shit." George says, scrambling up and walking over to me, same as Clay.
"Oh my god, what did you do!?" Clay asks, panicked.
"I sliced it on the blade of the blender." I respond, a little quieter. God that sounds so stupid, I bet no one other than me has ever managed to do that.
They kind of just pause and stare at me.
"How did you manage that?!" George laughs, clearly not sympathetic.
"I don't know! I wasn't paying attention!" I exclaim with a frown as Clay drags me into the kitchen with George following behind.
George doubles over laughing, and I kick his leg.
"Don't laugh!" I say with a slight laugh.
"So, this is what we're going to do," Clay starts, bringing over probably the disinfectant cream and a white bandage, " I'm going to put these on, then we're going to the hospital." He explains and I shake my head.
"I don't need to go to the hospital." I scowl and he looks at me with a You're kidding me look.
"The cut looks deep; it's going to need stitches." He says, squirting out some of the cream onto his hand.
"I agree with Clay, as funny as this is, we don't need you to bleed to death." He jokes.
"Yeah yeah, okay." I agree reluctantly.
"Good, now this is going to hurt a bit." Clay says, dabbing in onto my cut. I hiss in pain but it's over before I know it.
"George? Can you go start the car, that doesn't mean you're driving because I don't trust that you've gotten use to the way American roads work." Clay asks and George scoffs but does it anyways, grabbing the keys that were left on the counter and heading out the front door.
After a few minutes he finishes bandaging my hand, I let out a sigh of relief.
"Let's head to the car, George's probably sick of waiting." He jokes and I laugh in agreement.
We head outside and George is waiting outside the car, leaning against it. He's staring into the distance and chewing his nails, which I know is a major sign that he's anxious.
I share a look with Clay. He heads to the driver's seat and enters the car while I walk over to George.
"Hey." I say softly, placing my good hand on his shoulder and pulling him out of his thoughts. He looks at me and removes his finger from his mouth, wiping it off on his shorts.
"You good?" I ask and he gives a breathy laugh.
"I should be asking you that." He grins and I smile.
"Well, I'm fine. Clay wrapped it all up for me." I say, showing him my newly wrapped hand. "Come on, sit in the back with me."
He nods and opens the back door, letting me slide in first. I sit in the middle seat, and he slides into the seat behind the passenger seat.
"We good to go?" Clay asks, hands on the steering wheel facing us both. We both nod, buckling our seatbelts and he pulls out of the driveway and starts driving to the hospital.
George leans his head onto my shoulder, and I lean mind onto his head. He may not say it or show it that well, but I know he's slightly anxious, he always has his little tells to what he's feeling.
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I walk out of the room, thanking the doctor who stitched up the cut on my hand. His only instructions were to keep it bandaged and not to use it as much as I usually would, which isn't too bad considering it isn't my dominant hand.
I walk out to the waiting room, also thanking the receptionist when walking past. I walk over to George and Clay who are sitting on the set of seats near the entrance of the hospital.
"Hey! Only needed two stitches!" I say proudly, now standing in front of the two.
"That's great, is there anything you need to do?" Clay smiles.
"Uh, I've just got to keep it bandaged and not use it as much as I do, really not at all." I explain and he hums.
"You all good to go home then?" George asks, him and Clay getting up off the chairs.
"Yep." I say, standing between them both and wrapping an arm around the both of them.
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