-
Creek was finally at his limit. His whole face felt like it was beginning to lose feeling, and it began to spread to his whole body. Everything in sight was warped and blurred, spinning but also not moving at all.
His eyes twitched over at the two queens sound asleep on the couch. They'd been asleep for basically forever, and left him here to die. At every subtle movement they made, he glanced over in hope, praying it was them waking up and finally deciding to take him to the hospital. But alas, they are very deep sleepers.
-
Hours lazily passed and he'd slowly began to regain the smallest amounts of his body again. His left shoulder blade had to be torn, the way it wouldn't budge without starting up tears and excruciating pain. His right arm was slightly sore but otherwise, perfectly fine.
Creek sat up against the wall across from the couch, watching the two shift and snore in their sleep. He sucked in a breath and pushed himself to his feet with one swift movement. He slightly bounced off the wall and froze, thinking they'd wake up. Barb grumbled but it was just the way she slept like a pig.
He grimaced at her and rolled his eyes, limping over to the bathroom. The harsh yellow lighting stung for a bit, blinding his vision. His eyes came back to him as he approached the small mirror above the sink. Staring back at him was a beaten bloody man. It was worse than he'd imagined. His right eye was fading into a deep purple shade. There was blood. So. Much. Blood.
Everywhere, there was blood. Dried blood running down his lips to his neck. Healing scabs on his cheek. A slightly misaligned jaw. He bared his teeth in the mirror to find they were all coated in the metallic liquid, and one was even missing. He lifted his good hand and squeezed his eyes, swiftly snapping the bottom half of his mouth back into place. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.
He gently opened and closed his mouth, adjusting to the strange sensation.
He felt horrified and almost disgusted. The man quickly turned away from the mirror and leaned down into the sink, resting his eyes. His heart raced with adrenaline that fueled his soul. He cupped his hands under the sink and let the cold water flow before bringing it to his lips and gently swishing it around.
He finally spat with a bit of pain, to find the water running a light stained red down the drain. Creek gently released the equally bloody spit down the drain and watched with a flat stare. The man settled against the wall of Poppy's small bathroom and let out a soft breath through his nose. He glanced around the tiny room, everything stayed the same, surprisingly.
It was strange how Poppy never changed anything about her home. Knowing her, you'd expect her to change the design of everything constantly. Repainting the walls, changing the decor, moving around furniture. But no. Everything was exactly how it used to be.
The same soggy old wool bathmat in front of the tub. The same red hand towels with apples and worms on them. His eyes found themselves locked atop of her mirror. He pushed himself up on his toes and reached up with his good arm.
Just above the mirror, resting on it's dusty surface, sat his crystal of aventurine. He didn't dare move it.
Creek grinned to himself as he reached the ground again and to his spot on the wall. It was nice that she decided to keep it. It was also nice how she decided to not shoot him dead with her pistol.
He was in quite the pickle. He couldn't speak much, and definitely wasn't in any shape to simply leave. He'd dropped his keys somewhere in the woods, and certainly couldn't drive even if he wanted to. The pain in his jaw was settled but it was completely unbearable when he tried to open his mouth.
So, no voice, no keys, no car, no way out. Just lovely.
Creek glanced into the hall that reached the living room. He watched Poppy's peaceful expression as she laid there soundly asleep.
'What are we gonna do...' He thought to himself.
There wasn't a point in staring into the mirror so he got to work. Being a spiritual medium, acupuncturist, personal trainer and highly sought therapist meant that he had experience in mostly everything. A masters in psychology, certified in nutrition and a license as a physician, you could even say he was somewhat of a doctor.
He crouched down and found the real medical kit under the sink. Poppy's kit was a child's toy compared to this monster of a miniature doctor's office.
It sat there untouched for God knows how long, but it served a purpose. He unlocked the large box to find a beautiful array of higher medical grade tools.
Creek sifted through the heap of tools, picking out what he needed and set it all inside the empty sink. He carefully sanitized every cut with alcohol.
It burnt and stunk badly, his eyes twitched when he brought the cotton pad near his face. He could almost taste the bitter concoction on the tip of his tongue.
He stared down at the remaining things in the sink with disdain.
A lonely box labeled, 3PC STERILIZED NEEDLES, 5PC SUTURES
-
The pain was unbearable. Every time the needle neared again he felt sick. Just the sensation of stitching his cheek back up was just grotesque. He'd only been able to bare taking the needle through the apple of his cheek once before declaring it was too disgusting to do himself. He wanted to cry.
"Creek?" a soft voice emerged from behind the cracked door.
He immediately gasped and held his breath. Poppy pushed the door open and stared at him. His face was cleared of blood, he looked much better than he did hours ago. Just with a string of thread poking through his face. She watched his expression with a sort of pity in her eyes.
He couldn't reciprocate. He turned back to the sink and simply looked down the drain. Poppy chewed the inside of her cheek, stepping closer again. She quickly glanced back towards Barb who was completely knocked out before discreetly shutting the door.
"Let me." she spoke quietly, reaching for the needle in his hand. He eyed her warily before nodding without a word.
She'd expected him to say something flirty and charming, or try to kiss her and make love against the wall, but no. He just sat on the toilet seat as she examined the wound in his face, silently.
"Y..." she began before quickly stopping herself.
His eyes lit up almost, waiting for her to speak. "You tried to kill Barb?"
He didn't know it was possible to feel any more awkward with Poppy, but this just proves anything is possible. Holy shit.
He furrowed his eyebrows with a befuddled look in his eyes. Why would she start off with that? He didn't really try to kill Barb. She attacked him first!
"I... Uh..." he mumbled.
She squeezed numbing cream on the finger of her latex gloves and gently spread it against his cheek. "I didn't... I wasn't trying to murder her." the way he talked was so unlike him. He sounded so strange, nervous, awkward. He typically had that smooth talker type of voice. Gentle, calm and suave.
"Okay..." she nodded.
"You were asleep and I had to leave before she broke in and found us together. I hid around your house because I intended to go back inside once she'd left." he spoke sheepishly, feeling the way she listened so intentively.
"She saw me and beat me up, so naturally I fought back and... I accidentally strangled her in the heat of the moment."
Poppy let out an unexpected snotty laugh, turning away quickly. He wasn't amused.
"Wh- Poppy- How is that funny?" Creek pouted.
She inhaled deeply, gaining control of her laughter. "I'm sorry-! It's... what else happened?"
He glared at her half-jokingly and suppressed his grin with his cracked lips.
"I was taking her to my car before she strangled me back and beat me again before you swooped in and saved the day." his voice grew soft.
She nodded, poking the needle through his cheek and he didn't even notice. She grimaced slightly at the sensation, he glanced up towards her and quickly shut his eyes to not think about it.
"Are you gonna say anything?" his accent rode thick in the air.
Poppy tugged the thread through and watched the wound close. "I don't know what to say." she laughed out of nervousness. "I guess I'm just... shocked? I don't know the words..." Poppy's eyes wandered away from her objective and landed to the patient.
"That's fair." Creek spoke in a gentle whisper, he wallowed in what almost seemed like shame. She nibbled on the inside skin of her cheek.
Without a warning, she threw her arms around him and squeezed tight. He jolted in surprise, his heart beating rapidly inside of his shallow chest.
"I'm sorry things had to happen like this." Poppy croaked into the nape of his neck, tightening her biceps across him.
He released a breath he didn't know he held and touched her back with a gentle graze. Her hair twirled in his unsure hands, her chin rubbed against the skin to his throat.
"I'm sorry too." Creek murmered as emotions fled to his weak face. As if some higher being took over his mind, he had a revelation.
The beings he prayed to and believed him had him blinded. Creek didn't think in the grand scheme of things, he simply thought into what laid two days ahead. To be good is to right his wrongs. To be great is to find himself.
To love was to let go.
Tears flooded his weary eyes as these ideas rushed through his mind. The only way to truly prove his love for Poppy was to detach himself from her. He was singlehandedly ruining all that was good in her life, and he was the key to fixing it all.
"I can't stay here much longer." he mumbled shakily, causing the girl to pull away in confusion.
Her face twisted. "What?"
"I've- I've realized that in order to... help you. To right my wrongs is to leave." he cleared his throat.
Poppy watched his sorrowful expression with a low feeling in her chest. She inhaled and lifted the needle and thread again, like nothing had just happened. She gently pushed it through the wound on his skin and sewed away.
"Can you stay for just a bit longer?" her eyes began to well.
"Just until you're finished."
-