Warning: Lots of mature content and strong language ahead. Read at your own risk. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
________
Love is a messy, painful ordeal. Amelia Harold knew this all too well.
After all, she did fall in love...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Amelia came back, pouring the antiseptic onto a new cotton ball.
Ethan winced as she touched the drenched cotton to his open wound.
"Ethan?" she whispered, nudging him softly.
"I took care of him," he said.
"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at him like she knew something he didn't.
He gritted his teeth and twisted his words.
"Yes, of course. He won't hurt anyone else now."
She nodded, satisfied with her work as she placed the cotton at a side.
"Is the glass in your room? So, I can go clean it up."
"You don't have to. You've done enough."
"It's not a problem."
"Amelia, no," he said and she blinked, understanding that there wasn't going to be a debate about it. There was no way he was going to let her into his room and see the signs of his struggle.
"Okay but at least don't go back there until the mess is cleared?"
He nodded. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"Come on, I'll help you," she said, standing beside him.
He tried to protest but a sharp pain shot through his leg as soon as he tried to put his weight on it. So, he shut his mouth as she hefted his arm over her shoulder, supporting half his weight as they walked towards the couches placed at the center of the room.
He tried not to get lost in the smell of her hair, lavender and something citrusy. Her touches felt a thousand times more intensified, as if it wasn't just her arm brushing his and instead, she had somehow consumed him. He felt her touch everywhere, like fire leaving behind a branding mark.
She sat him down, using the cushions as a makeshift pillow.
"I can do this," he said, trying to take the cushions from her but she ignored him, fluffing them up and propping them against the armrest.
She sat down a little distance away from him.
"Why do you live at such a secluded location?" she asked and he frowned at the unexpected question.
"Because I love the peace and quiet."
"You can have that in a nice suburb. This is so far away from everything and a little scary. What if you have to make an emergency grocery run in the middle of the night?"
"I won't have peace in a suburb because then I'd have neighbors," he said and watched her roll her eyes. "And I can drive, you know. For an emergency grocery run in the middle of the night, which, by the way, sounds very unlikely."
