𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙙 (edmund pevensie x reader)

XVI. For The Last Time.

"I think you need stitches." Edmund mutters under his breath. We've returned to our room, and I already cleaned off my face. He holds my hand in his, looking at the clean slice from all angles.

"Stitches? It's not that serious."

He looks at me incredulously and rolls his eyes, "It's like you try to get injured just so you can not take care of it. Speaking of, your back?"

"It's okay, surprisingly." I quip.

"Are there any bandages on it?" He asks seriously. I look at him shamefully and laugh. "Y/N!"

"What? You were too busy throwing a temper tantrum to help me, so what was I supposed to do?" I raise my eyebrows at him and he looks away.

"Don't remind me." He bends down beside me and reaches into the bathroom cabinet, coming back with the roll of bandages, my best friend and my worst enemy.

As he wraps the cut on my hand—I guess he decided stitches weren't necessary—I study his face. The focused look he has, his dark hair falling onto his forehead. I'm going to miss him so much. But after everything, I know he doesn't feel the same about me. Not anymore.

"So...you're not mad about all that Peter stuff anymore?" I ask softly, trying to fill the silence.

"I think I'm just concerned with bigger things at the moment." He huffs, and I don't push the topic. He finishes my hand in silence, smoothing the bandage carefully. "Turn around." He stifles, unrolling more of the crisp white material.

I hesitate for a second, then do as he says. He lifts up my shirt like he did once before, a time that seems so long ago, and my breath hitches in my throat when his cold hands press to the skin of my back. I feel his hair graze my shoulder a few times as he sets to work, spreading the soft gauze over my healing wounds.

"I have no idea how this isn't infected." He says quietly, his mouth not far from my ear, "We even swam in that lake."

"Yeah, I know." I'm not sure what else to say, the only thing I can really focus on anymore is the proximity between the two of us. It's dizzying. He soon pulls back and drops my shirt down, relieving me of the struggle.

"Can you show me what the next step is now?" He reaches past me to sit the bandages on the counter, and at the same time I spin around to face him. His nose bumps against mine and he quickly pulls back, clearing his throat. I squeeze my eyes shut and walk out of the room, like doing so will make that entire exchange, that fraction of a second, disappear.

"Yeah, I'll show you." I rub my temple in embarrassment and go into our bedroom, grabbing the spell book from my bedside table. When I go back into the living room he sits on the couch, face red and hands fidgeting.

I hand him the opener book, and Lucy's helpful flower diagram falls out from in between the pages into his lap. I grab it as he examines the new step we've been given, my fingers grazing the fabric of his pants.

"You already know what flower it is?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I talked to Lucy today. There's only one type of flower in Narnia that blooms uber the full moon. It's this." I hand him the labeled picture and he studies it.

"Brugsmania?" He asks, testing the word on his mouth. He looks at the diagram a while longer before leveling with me, "Did you ask her when the next full moon is? It could be a while..."

"It's tomorrow."

He blinks at me a few times, my words settling over him, "Tomorrow? That's...soon."