Natalie didn't see him again for over a week.
It took her three days of not seeing him to fall back into her usual routine. School, homework, assignments, repeat.
She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little disappointed, but it couldn't be helped. Leon had a boxing ring to attend to. Natalie had an admission test to study for. She didn't think he was gone for good.
Leon would show up again when he wanted to, and Natalie would let him in.
Except, she hadn't expected it to go like this.
She was walking her usual route from school to Sierra Grammar when she saw him. She almost missed him at first, her eyes glued to her colourful flashcards as she walked, until he muttered her name.
"Natalie."
She stopped, his voice registering immediately, and turned. Her eyes scanned the empty street ahead of her, then beside her, before she realised, she was looking at the wrong height. She looked down to find him slumped on the floor against the wall, one arm clutching his side.
She gasped, almost dropping her flashcards. Instead, she quickly gathered her thoughts, shoved them into her blazer pocket, and squatted beside him.
"Leon," she whispered. "What happened?"
One look at his face told her he wasn't okay. Half of his face was swollen, his eye so bruised and puffy that it was close to being completely shut. A cut lined the top of his eyebrow, just above his black eye, matching the blood of his busted lip.
She felt sick and anxious all at once. The sight of blood leaking from his face made her nauseous, but she couldn't leave him there.
He seemed to groan in reply and her mind began to whir. She glanced quickly around the street before leaning forward and grabbing his arm, pulling it over her shoulder. He groaned again.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I just—we need to go. You look awful."
He let out a light chuckle before wincing in pain, his grip on his side tightening. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special," he said, his voice weak and raspy.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Can you stand?"
He nodded and on three, she pulled him to his feet. He groaned, his weight falling heavily onto her, causing her to stumble. She caught her footing, sucking a deep breath before beginning to move.
They moved slowly. Most of the way, Natalie was busy overthinking—about whether Leon was okay or not, or if he needed to go to the hospital, or if anyone would see the pair of them together.
It wasn't until they reached her house that Leon realised, they weren't going to Sierra Grammar.
It was a small house, one that looked like every other on her street. She unlocked the door, tossing a sideways look to each of her neighbours before dragging him inside.
"Where are we?" he asked as they pair staggered up the stairs. She led him to her room, forming a plan in her mind along the way.
"My house," she said. "I couldn't take you to the school. Not like this. Not unless you want my mum to walk in on me cleaning your cuts."
"That would be interesting," he remarked.
She laughed anxiously. Interesting was a mild way to put it. When they reached her room, she set him down gently on her bed and propped him up with pillows before running to fetch everything she needed.
She was lucky her mother was a nurse. Their medicine cabinet rivalled a hospital with the amount of bandages and disinfectants that were in there. Not to mention the number of ice packs that lined their freezer.
She gathered an armful of supplies and dropped them on the bedside table.
"Stay still," she ordered, dragging her bin closer. He didn't have time to answer before she grabbed a disinfectant wipe and pressed it against the gash on his brow.
He winced. She winced. Her entire body ached empathetically, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open and hand steady instead of flinching away. When she pulled the wipe away, it had turned red. She gagged, dropping it into the bin and reaching for another.
Leon watched her the entire time she cleaned and bandaged his cut. When she pulled away, her eyes finally met his and he smiled a crooked, swollen smile at her.
"Where would I be without you?" he muttered.
"Probably bleeding to death in a gutter somewhere," she replied.
She handed him icepacks for his face before moving to his ribcage. She was scared to peel his shirt back, but she knew it had to be done.
When she saw the bruises there, she inhaled sharply.
"Leon," she murmured.
"Natalie," he replied in the same tone. Her eyes flicked to his.
"I don't know why you keep fighting if it ends with you looking like this," she said. She reached for an icepack and his whole body jolted when she placed it on his ribs. He laughed, then winced, then placed a hand over hers.
"That's cold," he said. When she didn't reply, he released a tight breath. "I don't know. The money, obviously, but also the adrenaline. The feeling I get when I push myself to my limit and keep going. Or when I knock a man double my size to the ground, and he takes back all his stupid insults from before the match. Proving the people who underestimated me wrong. There's so much good in it."
"And so much bad," Natalie said, tracing a finger over his bruised chest. She didn't register what she was doing at first—touching Leon's bare chest—and when she did, her whole face turned hot. She pulled away. "You're going to kill yourself one day."
He grabbed her wrist before she could move too far, then flinched at the pain from the movement. Her eyes softened and she moved closer, seating herself on the edge of the mattress so that he didn't have to strain himself too much.
"Hey, come on, I'm not that dumb. I just got unlucky this time," he said, his voice breathless. "It won't happen again. The last thing I want to do is make you worry."
She looked away, feeling her pulse quicken. Of course, she worried about him. He was her—something.
She didn't know how to describe their relationship in words. Only in feelings. And he made her feel like she was falling from the sky and melting into a puddle all at once.
"I got caught off-guard," he continued. "The guy was bigger than me, but I was faster. But then, I don't know. I saw this girl in the crowd."
Natalie's heart felt like it stopped. She frowned, staring a hole into the floor of her bedroom. Of course, he was distracted by a girl. How else would the almighty Leon be beaten?
She wondered what the girl must have looked like. Long, sleek hair. Perfect figure. A petite nose.
"She looked like you," Leon finished.
She blinked, unsure if she'd heard right, then turned to meet his eyes. He watched her, his expression entirely serious.
"It wasn't you, obviously," he said. "But it was too late, the guy got me right in the head, and at that point, it was too late to defend myself. Things moved quick."
Natalie struggled for words. His fingers were still looped around her wrist like a bracelet, and she hoped he couldn't feel how fast her pulse was. She cleared her throat and stood.
"Well, don't get distracted again, okay?" she said, trying her best to act nonchalant.
He smiled at her as if he could see right through her act. "Promise."
"Great," she said. She lifted the final icepack and pressed it to his swollen eye. It must have been more aggressive than she thought it was because he flinched and turned away.
"Ouch!" His entire body shifted as he held his face in his hands.
"Oh, crap," Natalie gasped. She moved closer. "Are you okay?"
When he didn't respond, Natalie moved even closer, practically leaning over his twisted torso to try and peak at his face.
"Leon, what happened? What did I do?" she asked.
He turned suddenly, his eyes meeting hers. Her breath left her body as she realised they were only inches apart. She almost forgot that he was supposed to be in pain until his expression broke out into a wide, teasing smile.
"Got you," he said, his voice low. His pupils were blown wide as they dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes.
Natalie's entire body felt like it stopped functioning. Her heart was erratic. Her skin was hot. She thought she might be the one needing icepacks soon. Her whole face was warm, even the tips of her ears felt like they were overheating. Maybe her brain had melted inside her head and was leaking out of her ears. That would explain it.
If she stayed very still, she could feel Leon's breath on her lips.
Was he going to kiss her?
He moved a millimetre closer.
Her eyes closed.
"Natalie," Leon whispered, the movement of his lips causing them to brush hers.
Natalie shuddered.
She couldn't believe this was happening.
A door slammed beneath them.
"Natalie?" a voice was shouting. Her dad. "I'm home! Are you here?"
Natalie sprung away from Leon, stumbling over her feet as she moved to stand. She breathed heavily, swiping her hands over her clothes—whether to fix any wrinkles or to wipe the sweat from her palms, she wasn't sure.
Leon watched her, his smile gone. He leaned on his side, his eyes taking her in as she chuckled nervously and raked her fingers through her hair.
She couldn't believe it—her dad was already home. How long had they spent, sitting on her bed, her fingers on his skin? Time passed dangerously fast when she was with Leon.
"I'd better go downstairs," she said quickly. She kneeled, picking up one of the icepacks that had fallen when he turned, and handed it back to him. Their fingers brushed in the process, and her entire body jerked away from the touch.
This time, she retreated to the door.
"You can stay here," she said as she tugged her bedroom door open. She paused. "I'm just going to get some dinner, but I'll come back to check on you, okay?" Another pause. She felt the need to add: "Don't come downstairs."
"Got it," Leon replied.
She nodded, hesitating for a moment. She wanted to stay here with Leon. She wanted to make sure his cuts stopped bleeding and that he wasn't concussed, but her dad was waiting downstairs, and if she stayed any longer, soon he'd be looking for her here.
Natalie turned, and she closed the door behind her.
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It wasn't until dessert was about to be served that Natalie finally found a gap in the conversation to vanish upstairs and check on Leon.
She half-sprinted up the stairs, pausing at her bedroom door, unsure what to expect. Would Leon still be there? Would he have left already?
She gave one final glance over her shoulder before quietly turning the handle and slipping inside.
Her eyes immediately fell on his sleeping figure. He lay catatonic on his back, on top of her sheets, like he'd been too scared or too tired to pull a blanket over his body. His head lulled slightly to the side, strands of hair falling over his forehead.
Natalie froze at the door, too scared to move in case he'd wake up, but it didn't seem like he would. He slept so soundly. He must have been exhausted.
In his sleep, he looked so peaceful. Even with the swollen bruising around his eye and the band-aid stuck onto his forehead, he seemed almost angelic.
Unable to resist a closer look, Natalie stepped closer.
She knew she should turn, go back downstairs. Let him rest. But she couldn't help herself.
She leaned over him, inspecting the way his mouth parted slightly in his sleep. His cheekbones jutted out, high on his face, and his lashes were so long and dark that they stood out against his skin.
There was no denying Leon was handsome.
It was the main reason for his popularity. Sure, it was mysterious how he was always covered in bruises and how he always skipped class, but no one would be remotely interested in the mystery of Leon Hughes if he wasn't so attractive. To put it frankly, he was hot.
He was hot, and popular, and yet he chose to spend his time with Natalie.
He was here, sleeping in Natalie's bed.
His teasing words, his fleeting touches, his heavy gaze—they all confused her. Sometimes she could be sure that he liked her. Except, he never crossed that line.
He never mentioned boyfriends or girlfriends, or dating. He'd hold her hand, only until the lines of platonic friendship blurred, and then he'd release her and vanish for another week or so. He'd come close to kissing her, and then probably disappear for another week.
Sometimes, she thought he was just teasing her.
Natalie was terrible at hiding her feelings. If she was flustered, she would fall into a mess of blushing and stuttering and clumsiness. Maybe Leon liked to tease her to see those reactions. Maybe he found her innocence funny.
Maybe he found her funny, the same way Veronica found it funny that Natalie had never really spoken to boys before.
But something told her that he was genuine. Why else would he be here now? Why else would he come to her when he was so injured? She'd begged him not to let anyone find out about their relationship, and he'd listened to her. He'd granted her wish.
If she was being honest, she didn't know how she felt.
She thought he was cute. She felt drawn to him. But did she like him? If he asked her out, would she say yes?
Her first instinct was no. She'd say no. She couldn't date a boy like Leon. Really, Natalie had never dated anyone. She'd been too focused on school to worry about boys, and after going to an all-girls school her entire life, she'd never had the opportunity anyway. So, she was inexperienced to begin with, and she had a feeling that Leon was the opposite of inexperienced.
They were too different. They were complete opposites. And she barely knew anything about him.
But the thought of Leon being hurt and going to some other girl—her heart ached at the idea.
She liked that she was special to Leon. She didn't want that to change.
Part of her wished that she could just let her guard down, let herself relax, and let herself fall for him. It wouldn't be difficult. He was attractive. He flirted with her. She just had to lean into it, really.
Natalie looked down at Leon's face. She felt the urge to reach up and push his hair off of his forehead. She wanted to pull a blanket over him.
"Leon," she whispered. "I..."
The words wouldn't come.
She looked down.
The icepacks had fallen into a pile on the floor. He must have shifted in his sleep. She scooped them up, placing them back onto his ribcage, and stood, leaving the room.
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When dinner was officially declared over, Natalie excused herself to shower and sprinted up the staircase.
She slipped into her room, closing the door, and locking it behind herself, only to turn towards an empty bed. Her window had been left open a crack, revealing his escape route.
He'd left.
She pretended she wasn't disappointed.
He'd left the icepacks in a neat pile on the bed. She noticed immediately that he'd made the bed too, smoothing the sheets out and straightening the pillow he'd slept on. She giggled, imagining Leon hunched over her bed, folding the edge of her sheets into a crisp line.
And there, on top of the pillow, lay a note.
Natalie picked it up. Her name was written on the front. She smiled at it. His handwriting was surprisingly neat.
She opened the folded paper and read the words there.
Your healing hands have saved me once again. Thank you. See you soon.
- Leon
She had to laugh at him signing his name. Who else would've written the note? But she liked it anyway. It was proof that Leon Hughes had slept in her room and written her a thank you note.
She crossed her room to her bookshelf and dug out her hidden Ophelia book from behind her collection of classic novels before slipping the note between the pages.
She'd treasure this secret between them forever.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Thank you all so much for the support on the last chapter! I feel a lot better and more inspired now that exams are over and I've been trying to work on this story as much as possible before the Watty's!! Wish me luck!!!!
I hope you guys loved this chapter! As always, let me know what you thought and see you soon!!