The End of the Road

Chapter Eleven

There was never much quiet time for me growing up. There was always voices that swarmed my head. There was rarely ever a time where I was alone to think because even if the world around me was silent, it was always loud inside my head.

Yet it seemed much to quiet when I saw him. Like there should be loud noises or something but the background of the light chatter kept going.

I yanked the door open, a little ding! rung in the cafe. I walk over slowly as everyone stares at me, everyone but Keefe.

I sit down on the second chair across from him. I must look insane right now.

He looks up, taking a double take when he sees me. "F-Foster?"

I nod and before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around his neck in a tight hug.

In shock, he wrapped his arms around my back. The hug was in an awkward position since he was sitting and I was standing but it was still in my top ten favorite hugs.

"You're bleeding." He says, dazed. He shook his head and looks down at my stomach then at my face. His eyes go wide.

"You're bleeding!"

He grabs my hand and leads me out. "Don't worry, my apartment isn't far."

"It's fine. It was barely a scratch."

"Barely a scratch wouldn't be bleeding that much."

The walk/ drag to his apartment was a blur but we finally walk in a brick apartment building.

He slung my arm around his should to help me walk-but in my defense, I wasn't tripping because of the injury, I am very clumsy.

We went in an elevator and he clicked the eighth floor. We waited awkwardly in the elevator but before I could say something, the door opened and Keefe led me to a door.

Room 316.

He used a key to unlock the door and when we walked in I gasped. The apartment was very small but looked cozy.

The was a two cushion couch against the wall next to the door. Across from it was a square coffee table on a very fluffy, white rug. On the opposite wall was a big book self which also held a TV and two cabinets on the bottom. A queen sized bed was sitting against the bookshelf where the wall indented with Mrs. Stinkbottom sitting with the pillows. There was a kitchen with wooden counter tops and two doors that probably led to a bathroom and a closet.

Keefe led me to the bathroom, which was very cramped and small so it was hard to fit both of us but Keefe managed to get the bandages from the cabinet.

He reached for the hem on my shirt before looking for permission. I nodded. He lift up my shirt and messily wrapped the bandages around the wound.

I tried to leave after but he stopped me. He pointed his finger and I followed it to the shower.

"I don't have any extra clothes."

He walks out and I'm not sure if I'm supposedly follow so I stay still. He walks back in with a shirt and pants.

"Fine I'll take a quick shower but we need to talk after." I say as I turn on the water.

Keefe's eyes widened and he shook his head, seeming to remember he didn't want to talk after our last incident.

Telepathically, I mean. I transmitted.

Keefe's shoulders relaxed and he walked out after setting the clothes on the vanity.