Playing with Fire (Book One of The Kazuya Series) (✔️)

十 (Ten)

A/N:

Enjoy.....

The disappointment.😘

-B.
~~~~~~~~~~~
(Arielle's POV)

He was in his bathroom with his hands on the sides of the sink and head bowed. He didn't move when I walked in and he didn't say anything.

I saw the blood seeping through his shirt and rushed into his bedroom. I set the pie on his nightstand and went to the sterile room by his desk. Once I had everything I needed, I went back to the bathroom.

"Let me see." I said, pulling at his arm.

He turned towards me and pulled his shirt off. A few stitches tore and his wound reopened a bit.

"Sorry." He muttered.

I shook my head. "I'm not mad."

"Liar."

Okay, I was a little mad. Not at him though.

"How'd you get a spoon through him?" I asked, washing my hands.

He shrugged. "Easy."

I shook my head. "Go sit down."

He gave me a once over and then left the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

I followed him to his bedroom and found him standing in his closet.

"Here." He said, throwing a shirt at me.

"What?"

"Blood." He said, pointing at my white sweater.

Once I'd changed into his t-shirt, I went back to find him laying on his bed.

"Thankfully, you didn't tear all of them. Just a few." I said, cleaning his wound and pulling out the torn stitches.

He remained silent until I was finished stitching him back up and then he sighed.

"Sorry." He said again.

"Koan, I'm not mad at you." I told him truthfully. "I'd like to know what happened though."

"Mouthy." He said, gritting his teeth.

"Kenta was mouthy."

He nodded.

"About what?"

He shook his head and sat up. Him sitting up caused us to be inches apart.

"Was he mouthy about me when I left?"

Him not moving or saying anything gave me an answer.

"I'm not easily bothered by people's words. Especially if it's from someone who I don't know." I told him.

Nothing.

I bumped his shoulder with mine and smiled. "Thank you."

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"For sticking up for me."

Then I remembered the pie. I grabbed it off his nightstand and put it in his lap.

"Pie?"

"Chocolate pie. No cinnamon. Us." I said and he grinned.

"Forks."

He moved to get up, but I stopped him.

"I'll get them. Stay here."

I quickly made my way downstairs to find that everyone was still there and things had calmed down. Kenta sat on the couch with his hand bandaged and, when he saw me, he immediately looked away.