The Bad Guy's Doctor

TWELVE

I slide out of bed, yawning slightly as I wandered down the stairs. My throat was parched and I regrettably left the warm bed behind to grab a glass of water. The cold air invites goosebumps to my skin, to which I rub my hands along my arms. The kitchen was quiet and dark, yet I could trace the faint outlines of the countertop and sink.

I fill up a glass of water just as a pair of arms slide around my waist, a head burying itself against my shoulder. The soft scent of sleep and him fills my senses. "Why'd you leave me?"

Arsenio sounds drowsy, his voice slightly raspy as he spoke. He was warm, infinitely so, basically radiating heat without a shirt on. I lean against him, soaking in the perks of being his latest obsession.

"Water. Did I wake you?" I sip the half filled cup, letting it run over my tongue for a few seconds before swallowing. Arsenio sighs into my shoulder and I reach up to pet his hair.

"Your breathing." I set the glass down. "I've grown used to it." My breathing? Did he memorize the sound of my breaths or something? I open my mouth to question his words, but he presses a soft kiss to my neck before speaking. "Come on, it's cold." He pulls me along, taking short steps to my room.

Arsenio wraps a secure arm around me, tugging me in close as he pulled the covers over us. His breath tickled my collarbone and I let my eyes slide closed. He was warm and the night was so cold.

And I hated the cold.

- - -
Arsenio's POV

It all started when some girl tried to strip me in a back alleyway.

I could barely hear her over the sound of gunfire and shouts echoing up and down the street, footsteps drawing closer to where we were. She was incessant about pulling my shirt off of my chest and if I weren't choking on my own blood, I would've yelled at her and her cold, cold hands. They felt like ice cubes pressed against my skin that felt like it was on fire.

My blinks felt decades long, darkness washing over me before receding, like tidal waves that abandoned it's indecisive moon. There's someone next to me, cutting the fabric off of me with a knife that I think I recognize. Jasper, probably.

Everything is blurry. I feel like I'm floating.

The girl says something to me, but I can't hear her over the screaming of blood in my head. I'm bleeding out, I can feel it. I was shot in the chest, head on. I felt it rip through my shoulder blade on its way out. Death was the only thing that awaited me besides the damp concrete that I was laying on.

It was probably dry before, but I can't seem to trouble myself with remembering.

They're talking again. The girl grabs my arm and I feel nothing more than a prickle against my skin. And everything slams back into me.

I gasp, my throat malfunctioning as I tried to formulate words and curses that don't exist to describe the amount of pain that I was in. My hands scraped against the floor, clutching at pebbles and rocks and glass shards, digging into my palms as I writhed.

"Stay still!" I could hear her, the girl, that is. I turn quickly, reaching for the knife at my side—she stabs me first. Blood rushes out of my esophagus and I choke, coughing it out as I gasped. Get off, get off, get off—she pulls away and there's another prick on my arm.

The world seems to be spinning faster this time, everything is spinning, what the fuck did she just do to me?

Blood drips from my mouth and she moves toward me, pressing two fingers where my jaw met my neck. "Who..." My voice broke and my throat felt like it was on fire. "Wh-What did you—" I reach up, my hand trembling in the air as things came in and out of focus.

"I saved your life." I move my eyes over to her, seeing her clearly now. She... Her? She just... she stabbed me, she's lying, she's a trickster, a scam artist, a liar—

And there's blood on her face and on her hands and I can't help but think that she's the most beautiful person I've ever seen.

- - -
Althea's POV

"What are you thinking about?" I turn to look at Arsenio, who has been staring at me the whole time. He smiles, leaning back in his chair.

"You're just as beautiful as when I first met you." I blink, before rolling my eyes at him. Corny. "Do you have some time tomorrow night—"

"I don't." I shoot back, to which his eyes only seem to grow softer. Jasper, who's elbow I was currently treating, glances between us, before shifting slightly.

"Althea—" He inhaled quickly as I tighten the bandage, wincing. "Easy, easy," I let go and he withdraws, cradling his arm.

"I told you not to get it wet, didn't I?" Jasper cowers, frowning.

"I forgot." I sighed. I better get some more scar cream then. "What am I supposed to do? It was raining—"

"I don't know, get under cover?" I smooth out my work, tying the last end. "Don't get it wet this time," I uncap a sharpie, holding the top in my teeth as I write down the day's date. "All I'm asking is for a week of dry bandages, okay?" I comb my fingers through my hair for a quick moment, sighing. Jasper moved his arm away, moving it gingerly.