My Mess

Chapter Forty: No Regrets When It Comes To Him

Chapter Forty: No regrets When It Comes To Him
Nathaniel's POV

It was crazy how fast things could change. 

I had gone to bed grinning like an idiot, thinking of Cole and how long we had laughed for. 

How well today had went, and yet in the same day he was grasping onto my sweatshirt as if he never wanted to let go.

 Blood on his own shirt, tears pouring down his face as he sobbed and I had no idea what happened. 

I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and then another. I rubbed my hand up and down his back and whispered to him that he was doing good. To let it out all and he'd feel better. 

I don't know if I believed that, but I would do anything to make it true. 

When he finally calmed down I gently pressed my palm into his chin and tilted his head up to me. 

It just blew my mind how someone as chill, lighthearted and seemingly happy could be going through such a giant fucking mental struggle. 

He must've been biting his lip, or tugging at it, as it began to bead with blood and then gently trail down slightly. 

"Come on," I murmured, sliding my hand in his. 

"Where?" 

"Just to the bathroom so the blood doesn't get on your shirt." I murmured and he nodded numbly, following behind me as I took him into the bathroom and he hopped up on the counter. 

His eyes had a glazed look in them, distant, sad and hurt. It made my own chest feel like it was clutching itself into a ball. 

I took a cotton ball and gently held it to his lip, using the pressure to try and get the bleeding to stop. 

I took the time to look over him. 

Blood on his shirt, I knew must've dropped from his chin. A bruise forming around his mouth. His right hand was still encase in my left hand, but his other hand was picking at his thumb nervously. 

He was shaking and his skin looked paler than his normal, at least somewhat, slight whiteish-tan complexion. 

"Are you okay?" I murmured as I gently pulled the cotton swab away, relieved to see the blood stopping. 

"I'm okay." He whispered, his eyes glancing down at his hand. 

I followed his gaze and winced at the slight, already scabbed indents on his wrist. 

I wanted to ask what happened, but I didn't want him to have to relive anything that happened, because he very obviously got hurt by someone, and judging from his reaction, it wasn't a stranger. 

"Let me take care of these..." I stopped, "Are you cold?" 

He shrugged, "A little bit, but it's alright." 

I tugged off my sweatshirt, tugging my undershirt down a bit since it had rid off when I put it on. 

"Put this on, but let me take care of this first." I murmured and he nodded his head, a small gentle smile on his face. 

"Thank you." he murmured, "I'm sorry for constantly putting you through this damn trouble recently," He said and I found myself wanting to cry. 

There's so much in life that I regret doing. So many people I shoved away because they simply annoyed the shit out of me. 

It's what happen when your family has money - people like you, because they like your privilege, not because they like you. I understand that I'm privileged and I respect it, and I did what I could to the best of my abilities to ever help a friend when they needed it. Some of those friends used me simply for the money, and I regretted helping them in the way that I did.