The House by the River

Chapter 15

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Plan's POV

"Go get a thick blanket for Mark," I instructed Mean who was just standing behind me seeming to be paralyzed by the image of a lifeless body of Mark.

Before my slow poke friend could make a single step, Title had already gone to fetch a blanket and was handing it to Gun.

Just at that moment we heard a knock on the door. Again Title was quick on his feet and had rushed to open the door.

I turned to Mean.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked. "You don't seem to have any energy today."

That was when I noticed that he was looking very pale.

"I was very worried for Gun," he replied, almost in a whisper. "I thought he had drowned. I was really really really worried for him."

I was about to say, "I wonder if you would worry the same way for me" and bit my tongue before I could say it. No, no, no, there was no way that I was jealous of Mark for Mean's attention.

I quickly turned on my heel to go to the kitchen for a tall drink of ice cold water but the quick movement made me lose my balance and before that slow poke Mean could catch me I fell hard on the floor, hitting a corner of the coffee table.

I panicked when I felt something trickling down the side of my face. I touched the right side of my forehead. I was bleeding to death! Mean! Whre are you???

I closed my eyes, not wanting to get up from the floor.

Suddenly I felt strong arms carrying me. I fluttered my eyes open.

It was Mean.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked in a panic. "I don't wanna go to a hospital."

"I'm not taking you to a hospital, silly. I'm just gonna lay you on the bed and get the first aid kit from the bathroom," Mean said.

Soon he was bending over the bed and was trying to lay me down but for some reason he was unable to place me on the bed.

"Let go of my neck," Mean said.

Oh oops, I did not realize that I had been holding on tight to his neck.

After he lay me on the bed, he disappeared and after a few moments he was back carrying the metal box of first aid kit.

He set it down beside me and pushed on the clasp to open the lid. Then he took a few pieces of gauze and sprayed some of the wound wash on it.

"Oww! Be gentle! It hurts!" I complained.

"Stop being a big baby," he scolded me. "I was being as gentle as I could. Of course it will hurt because you have a break in your skin. Now shut up and let me take care of you."

My heart softened.

"Are you really going to take care of me? Are you? Are you?" I asked, fluttering my eyes at him.

"Shut up," he scolded and pressed the gauze harder than he should have.

"Oww!" I complained again.

After he discarded the wet pieces of gauze, he took out a cotton tip and a small tube of antibiotic ointment. With the cotton tip he gently applied some of the antibiotic ointment on my wound and then took out an adhesive dressing from the first aid kit.

I looked at his face as he concentrated on applying the adhesive strip on the side of my face. I looked at his lips that were slightly opened as he focused on his task.

"There," he said. "All done."

He sounded very satisfied but for some reason I was not.

I will never forgive myself for as long as I live for what I did next.

I grabbed his neck and pulled him down to my face and planted a kiss on his lips and then quickly let go when I realized what I had just done.

"Were you just trying to say thank you to me or were you trying to say that you love me?" he asked, his right eyebrow raised so high that it touched his hairline.

"Shut up," I said and turned my back on him.

"You're welcome," he muttered as he pushed the lid of the first aid kit closed and left the room.