»»-----¤-----««Estelle's Pov»»-----¤-----««
I realize that this is going to be more complicated than I had anticipated. I stare at my sister and Mallory in the living room. Kirsi sat down on the couch across from Mallory, with only me and the livingroom table keeping them apart. The tension was palpable. Kirsi looked as if she wanted to get up and lunge at Fedorov, while Mallory seemed almost too eerily calm, as if she expected this situation. I take a deep breath and say the only thing I can think of.
"Kirsi, it's a very long story as to why she's here." I explain. "But right now I really need your help in treating her wound, the one on the side of her lower stomach more specifically." I sigh.
"Absolutely not." she refuses crossing her arms in front of her.
"Kirsi! You told me I could rely on you whenever I needed help!" I state.
"I ment help for yourself Elle! Not this .. person." she retorts in disgust and pure hostility. I sigh deeply in frustration and glare at my sister.
"Kirsi, I promise I will explain everything to you later. But right now I really need your help. Isn't rule one in the medical field to always treat any patient fairly? No matter if it's just a regular person or a killer." I squint my eyes, noticing that my words have startled her. To be honest I am baffled myself as well. Why am I defending Fedorov? Kirsi takes a few moments to think before she finally agrees.
"Fine, where's your medical supply cabinet?" she asks.
"In the bathroom, top shelf," I reply and watch her get up to go fetch the medical supplies. Once she returns and put everything on the little table, she sighs and gives Fedorov one last glare.
"Okay, show me the wound."
Fedorov arches her brow, not budging an inch. Her body language suggests she is about to make a snide remark, but I intervene.
"Shift your lower abdomen to the side," I suggest, my eyes meeting hers. She seems to soften her gaze slightly as we lock eyes before she complies and slightly shifts on the couch.
Am I hallucinating or did she just..
I shake off the odd feeling and motion Kirsi to move closer. She crouches down, observing the wound closely before she looks up at me.
"It's a deep cut and it needs stitches," she says as she reaches out for one of the supplies on the table bedside her. I nod in agreement as I start measuring out a large bandage for her.
Kirsi turns to Fedorov, asking "What happened?". But they say nothing. Why won't they tell her, after having told me so quickly?
Does she trust me in her own twisted way?
I clear my throat and immediately step forward with the bandage.
"She had an accident in her business," I say. Technically, I'm not lying but yet I still am. Kirsi takes the bandage from me, nodding to signify her understanding. She gets to work on Fedorov's wound, carefully and meticulously tending to it with a gentle attention that I wouldn't have expected from her. The room grows silent as they focus on the task in hand. Fedorov groans here and there as Kirsi stitches her wound without any sedative, but she works quickly and swiftly.
Kirsi speaks up, standing to hand me the supplies. "There we go," she says. "Don't do anything hasty for two weeks if you want it to heal fast," she adds with a warning look. She turns to me and gestures her head in the direction of the kitchen.
"I'll be right back." I announce to Mallory before I follow Kirsi to the kitchen.
"Elle, you have some explaining to do." my sister glares.
"I know I do, but believe me when I say this isn't something that can be explained over a coffee easily." I sigh deeply, shaking my head as I lean against the kitchen counter.
"Fine, but you're going to tell me how you got involved with the likes of Fedorov. She's bad news and you know it. Trouble follows her everywhere." Kirsi whispers softly yet firmly.
I sneer a bit in annoyance, "It seems everyone knows everything about her except me."
Kirsi counters, "It's not that, she's just known for her shady business. Otherwise she wouldn't be a damn aristocrat."
"Fine, well anyways besides that. Thank you for helping I really appreciate it." I murmur and hug her. Kirsi's expression softens.
"It's no trouble. I'm just glad you're okay and I did what any sister would do."
Her words make a soft smile appear on my face before she gathers her things and walks to the door.
"Promise me you'll be careful, Elle," Kirsi suddenly speaks up and I nod.
"Of course, I always am." I smile reassuring her before I close the door and sigh in relief.
Alright, that's settled. Now, back to the menace lounging on my damn couch like they own the place.
I return to my living room and am surprised to see Fedorov standing near the window.
"You should rest," I urge, adjusting the cushions on the couch.
"Hm." she just hums dismissively. A frustrated groan leaves my throat and I cross my arms glaring.
"Seriously, rest," I demand. "Now." Fedorov looks over and slowly makes her way to the couch, where she sits down.
"Sparky, you're really wasting time with this."
"Don't tell me what I should do, it never helped you." I snap back and sit down next to her. My comment elicits a soft chuckle from her lips and, much to my dismay, I find myself drawn in by the sound of it, my heart racing. I shake the thought away and focus back on the task at hand.
"You heard my sister, two weeks of nothing," I smirk amused. "Guess you're gonna be a couch potato for a while."
"Fuck off Sparky, I have work to do." she retorts and I arch my brow unimpressed.
"God sake." I mumble throwing a blanket on Mallory after I check the cut on her lip. We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until she speaks and takes a gentle hold of my wrist that had been inspecting her lip.
"Sparky," she murmurs. "I told you, being kind and caring won't help in a world like this."
I sneer and shake my head. "So what? I'm supposed to be a cunt like you?" My response makes a faint smile tug at the corners of her lips. "No thank you." I add. Time seems to stand still. Tension hangs in the air like electricity that sparks and crackles with each breath taken or movement made. My heart gallops like a wild horse into a darkened horizon. My gaze lingers on Mallory's lips before reluctantly making its way back to her keen amber eyes, which seem to be drawing closer to mine with every passing second, catching me off guard. Just before our lips can touch I turn my head breaking the trance I was in.
"Why are you doing this for me?" she asks. "You hate me, after all i'd nearly thrown you off a bridge."
I take a deep breath and hesitate, unsure of how I should reply.
"It's like you said," I begin slowly, "the world is tough and good people get trampled." As I speak, my heart grows heavy with the weight of my words. I look over at her before standing up, my wrist slipping out of her gentle grip while I slowly make my way on to the kitchen.
"But sometimes we can't help it but care, even when we know we shouldn't." I whisper, feeling tension coil in my stomach as the reality of my words sinks in.
"I'll be in the kitchen, I have.. things to do."
"Sparky.."
I walk into the kitchen without a second thought, and release a deep sigh. I can't stand myself. Not because of shame for my own doing, but it's because I realize that I'm falling for her.
»»-----¤-----««
My heart is fragile and damaged like a house of glass, and yet I fell in love with the one who threw the first stone.
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Authors note
Hello my loves! Thank you for reading this chapter of Dance of Affliction!
I hope you all are having a great week, take care of yourself and don't forget to hydrate babes <3
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