T w e n t y T w o

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"Sam and I headed out for the weekend, see you on Sunday," I mumble the letter than my dad had left on the fridge after I had just returned from Sarah's family reunion.

"You ate my fruit bowls again," I groan.

I check my phone again and sure enough, still no messages from Zac.

I order in some Pizza and decide to just watch a movie.

I walk up to my room and kick my shoes off, grabbing a blanket and walking downstairs again.

It just started to rain and the weather reports say that there's a huge storm coming up.

Shrugging, I look through Netflix for a good rom-com to match the weather.

Halfway through the movie the storm has proceeded to become worse, yet the doorbell rings.

I open the door with a grin as the delivery man hands me my Pizza.

"Stay safe," I tell him as I pay him and close the door, heading back to my movie.

My doorbell rings again after a minute.

Did I pay him short?

I stand up with a frown and open the door.

My eyes widen when I see Zac soaking wet and full of blood.

"What the fuck," I gasp, pulling him inside.

I take him to the bathroom with no ease.

As I set him on the rim of the bathtub, he groans in pain.

"I'm sorry," he says.

He's in ripped clothing as his attire is full of dirt and blood.

"It looks like you were in a sewer," I tell him.

I pull off his shirt and start to wipe his face clean from the dried blood.

I open the bathroom cabinets, searching for the first aid kit.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell happend?" I ask.

He shakes his head, staying silent.

"Fine," I huff.

I brush his hair out the way as I clean the wounds on his cheek, lip and eye.

Who did he get into a fight with?

"You look beautiful," he mumbles.

I take a deep breath, but I don't reply.

Once his face is clean I look at his hands.

"I'm going to have to put butterfly stitches on your hands.

"No, just wrap them up," he protests.

"No."

After stitching up his hands, I tell him to take a shower and I'll hand him new clothes.

I walk out the bathroom after putting everything away.

Shutting te door I walk downstairs and switch the television off.

I put the Pizza on the kitchen island and take out two plates.

Heaidng up again, I grab a few of Sam's clothes and place them infront of the bathroom door.

"Clothes are at the door," I tell him and I hear a muffled response.

I don't understand why he'd come here if he didn't want to tell me what's going on.

Is this why he didn't come to Sarah's family reunion?

A few minutes later he comes down the stairs, plopping down on the couch.

He looks like he's in a lot of pain

"Sooner or later you'll have to tell me what the hell is going on," I state.

"Here," I hand him the plate of pizza.

"Not hungry," he says.

"When last did you eat?"

"Last night," he shrugs.

"Eat."

Without arguing he eats the pizza slowly.

I sit on the couch next to him in silence, giving him time to think of how he's going to tell me.

It feels like I don't know much of him and his personal life, but I really want to get to know him.

It's just the secrets that bother me, but I'll give him as much time as he needs.

Soon he falls asleep on the couch, looking a lot better than he did and hour ago.

His lip is busted and his face looks wrecked.

I stand up and throw the blanket over him and head upstairs, going to sleep myself.

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