He's late. Of course he is.
I sat at the countertop of the Dennys on 4th and Burbon, messing with the straw in my drink. He'd better have a good explanation for this. I have shit to do. "Do you want anything dear? Some fries, a burger?" The waitress smiled at me. "Oh no thank you. I'm fine for now." She'd asked me that question twice already, and pity had begun to set in her eyes.
The bell at the door chimed and I turned hoping it was Mason. No such luck. Instead it was just a guy about my age. The grey sweatshirt he wore was two sizes too big for him, and the pulled up hood made him more conspicuous than he most likely wanted to be.
His dark eyes met mine and he swiftly looked away, and quickly made his way to a booth in the corner. He slouched over wringing his hands. His right hand moved to mess with something in his pocket and it seemed to calm him just a bit.
The bell rang again and I turned, anticipating Mason but instead it was another guy my age dressed in grey heading to the back toward the booth where I assumed the other man was waiting. The new one sat down and a deep conversation began.
I sighed, Mason wasn't going to show up, that was fact. I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe he might have actually been a truthfull person. The time on my phone read 6:45. 15 minutes is all I'm going to wait until I give up.
It's was five minutes later when Mason decided to finally show up. The bell chimed and I turn toward him.
"Took you long enough." I muttered. I almost sent another snipe his way when I noticed the haunted look in his eyes, and the bit of blood stuck to the corner of his lips. A cut was open high on his cheek close enough to almost connect to his eye. The silver chain around his neck had flecks of blood on it and Mason's walk was stiff as he grimaced when he lifted his foot from the ground to move forward.
"What the hell happened to you?" I stand up and make my way to him, my hand lifting to inspect what was on his face.
Mason moves his head away from my hand and grunts. "Nothing you should be concerned about." He mumbled.
"Nothing my ass. You look like shit."
"Thank you for stating the obvious."
"Shut up. I'm going to clean you up, with your permission or not."
I grab his wrist, almost not noticing how his pulse quickens and how warm his body temperature is. But I noticed, and it was enough to make a bit of heat creep up my neck even though it shouldn't.
I pull Mason into the women's bathroom and the lady inside washing her hands huffs and clicks her tounge. I ignore her. The cramped bathroom leads no room to move so I choose the big stall in the back. I push Mason in and close the door behind us.
"Calsy it's really nothing. I'll be fine."
"You winced when you said that." I pointed out.
"Calsy." I turn to look at him, crossing my arms. I can see a growing dark stain beneath his black shirt.
"Mason I don't give a rats ass if you think you're fine. Something's under your shirt and you're bleeding so shut up and sit down on that damn toilet so I can clean you up. We won't be able to do the project if I can't focus because there's blood dripping down your face." There was in fact blood on his face, leaking from the cut on his cheek and he reached to wipe it away. "Don't touch it." I smack his hand aside, "you might give yourself an infection with your dirty hands."
He must have been shocked by my tone because he closed his mouth and sat down. I twisted around and grabbed the paper towels from the dispenser next to the sink and wet them in the water.
"You're going to have to take your shirt off." I said. Mason smirked and I wanted to knock it off his face. He reached to pull it up and grunted, I sighed. "Stop I'll help." I crossed over to him and bent awkwardly to remove it.
"This is not how I imagined you taking my shirt off." Mason quirked.
"I was never in my life going to take your shirt off. Under any circumstances but these." I shot him a glare. The shirt was damp in one spot and I had to peel it from his skin. He sucked in a breath as I beheld a long gash in his side that was dripping blood.
"Holy shit. What did you do?" I question. Masons only response was his grunt and wince. "You fucking idiot. What. Did. You. Do."
"Can't tell you. Top secret." He whispered.
"Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me why you're cut up and bleeding and why you almost have a full blown stab wound in your stomach. That's fine." I huff.
"Where did you learn how to take care of injuries?" Mason asks.
"Can't tell you. Top secret."
He laughed and then winced again. I quickly placed a towel on the wound and Mason flinched. "You're going to have to hold it there while I take care of the rest of your face." I say, and he places his hand on top of the paper towel.
I stand back going to wet another paper towel when I realize that I'm in a bathroom.
With Mason Shade.
And he is without a shirt.
He's also bleeding.
I shake my head, there are more important things to be done now. I step over to him and wipe the cold, wet paper towel on the cut on his cheek. A hiss of a breath escapes his mouth and barely reaches my neck. When the cut is no longer bleeding I bring the towel down to the cut on his lip.
"Press down harder." His grip had eased on the wound in his stomach and the bleeding had started to flow again. Mason did as I asked and grunted in pain, his teeth grinding.
I hovered above his lips unsure to continue because the blood had dried around the cut. I decided to wipe away the dried blood to clean it off and hopefully make sure the cut isn't infected.
Mason went to move his head away from my hands. "Don't ." I say and grip his jaw in one hand and wipe away the blood with the other. My thumb grazed his bottom lip and I stopped breathing. I think we both did. I stood up quickly and threw the bloody paper towel in the sink.
"You're not applying enough pressure." I repeat, the blood had started to clot, but it was still bleeding. "You might need some actual bandages."
"Go get Darcy from the counter and ask for them. She has some."
I nod and unlock the door and walk to the counter. "Darcy can I have some bandages? If you have any if you don't that's ok."
"Trust me, we always have bandages." She replies and heads into the back, only to return with rolls of medical bandages and tape. "Thank you." I say and make haste back to the bathroom. I opened the door and Mason was standing trying to put his shirt back on.
"What the hell are you doing? Sit down."
"Calsy I have to go."
"Like hell you will. Now, Sit Down."
He huffed and sat back down. I pulled his shirt up to get a clear view of the mark. We don't talk while I work, the silence is only broken by the sounds of our mixed breathing and the medical supplies being teared and applied to the wound.
"It should hold. For now. You should really see a doctor about that." I sigh.
"I'll find one, don't worry."
I help him pull his shirt back on and half carry him out of the bathroom.
"Thank you Calsy, really." Mason said.
"You're going to have to tell me eventually what caused this." I reply.
"Hopefully I won't." He sighed. "Who are they?"
"The guys over there? No idea. Came in before you and I guess they haven't left."
"I need to make a call excuse me." Mason pushed off my arm and strode towards the door.
I huffed, tired after everything that had happened. The time on the wall read 8:14, I had sixteen minutes until I was supposed to be home. Mason was outside on his phone talking to someone and looking upset.
I started toward the door and at the same time the second man in the booth got up too. He reached the door first and held it open for me.
"Thank you." I said.
"No problem." The top coat of his voice was warm but the layers beneath revealed nothing but ice.
I walked toward my car and got in. I didn't want to leave Mason. Not after seeing the injuries from his mysterious activities. Hopefully he'll tell me later. I started the car and I looked back at him once more, still on the phone. His eyes met mine and they were not the same eyes I had looked into so few times. They were cold, empty. I shivered and drove away.
Later that night I lay in bed trying to fall asleep when my phone buzzes on my nightstand next to me.
Mason: What did that guy who held the door for you say to you?
Me: Why is it any of your concern?
Mason: Calsy please, now is not the time.
Me: We were supposed to meet for the project but instead you show up bloody and limping. I don't think I owe you an explanation, I think you owe me one.
Mason: Calsy if I could explain I would. Truly.
Me: All he said was 'no problem.'
Mason didn't respond.
Me: Hello?
Me: Is that it? That's all you wanted?
I angrily turned my phone off and flipped over to the other side of the bed crossing my arms.
Why he had to make everything so difficult, I will never know.