Prone To Injury

Three: A Simple Paper Cut.

The next few weeks all lingered in the same way.

Rayyan would wake up, go for a quick run, shower, complete his nine-step skincare routine, eat his breakfast while looking over his notes, change into the outfit he laid out for himself the night before, and leave precisely fifteen minutes early for school. His routine was calculated to the minute, crafted to make his mornings gear him up for the rest of his busy day. His routine had been the same since Freshman year, yet it was like seeing sunlight for the first time when Silvestre came into the picture.

He had always been there in Rayyan's periphery, but their encounter at the nurse's office offered a spotlight to the clumsy boy.

Every day since that fateful day, Rayyan would greet Mrs. Espinoza before she would go hang out in the teacher's lounge in the name of giving Rayyan "exposure." The boy knew she trusted the nurse's office to him after years of hard work and his artisanal knowledge, and the idea brought a smile to his face and warmed his chest with pride. Then, at some point throughout the day, Silvestre would wander into the nurse's office.

"Fell up the stairs," he said as he rubbed his elbow.

"Fell down the stairs," he laughed as he limped towards the bed.

"Slipped on a puddle in the bathroom," he said breathlessly as he clutched his side.

"Tripped on a chair."

"Some guy thought I was someone else and punched me. He said sorry though."

"Walked into a wall."

"I passed out. I'm fine though, I ate a Gogurt."

Rayyan smiled down at Silvestre as he slept, clutching his arm close to him as Rayyan held ice to his elbow after another fall up the stairs. At times he thought the boy just waltzed into the nurse because he wanted to talk to Rayyan. He quickly dismissed the notion, knowing the boy was genuinely hurt and in need of Rayyan's help. But even then, Rayyan basked in the time they spent together, cherishing their conversations.

No matter how absurd or unconventional, Silvestre wasn't weird. He was himself. His filterless, sweet, cute self. As Silvestre nestled into Rayyan's arm, nothing could wipe the goofy smile from his lips.

The only thing Rayyan had to worry about was falling even harder for the boy.

If that was even possible.

A knock at the nurse's door sent Rayyan's gaze from his laptop to the one and only Silvestre. The boy smiled up at the other as he tried not to look at his bleeding finger.

"Paper cut."

Rayyan shook his head with a smile, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk as he grabbed the first aid kit.

"So how did this one happen?"

"I was trying to make a paper airplane. Paper's really sharp."

Rayyan softly laughed as he cleaned the small cut, the only other sound in the room being Silvestre's soft winces. Gently applying a bandaid, Rayyan couldn't help the warmth that settled in his stomach. Silvestre's hand was warm in his touch, soft and smooth.

Silvestre gently ran his finger over Rayyan's knuckles. So slow, Rayyan felt every movement.

The two stayed in that comfortable silence, their hands in each other's grasp. Neither moved to pull away, hell, they hardly even blinked, memorizing each other's bodies.

"I think..." said Rayyan, leaning closer to Silvestre.

"You should head back to class."

Silvestre frantically nodded, his gaze still on Rayyan's hand as the other boy slowly pulled away. Rayyan's skin burned with a hot blush. Even if Silvestre left the room, he was still remind in Rayyan's subconscious.

He's so cute.

Rayyan smiled at his thoughts as he looked through the nurse records for the students they treated. Every month the school needed the nursing records turned in to help plan the nurse's budget for the next school year.

As the boy collected all of the data, there was a pattern that made his heart flutter.

Silvestre Ochoa, treated 17 times through the month of August.

Rayyan coked his eyebrow, looking through the information in finer detail. 65% of his injuries were minor, while only 35% were more urgent. There was only data for Silvestre during Rayyan shifts in the nurse's office, with only two exceptions.

He knew he wasn't meant to look at student records in such depth, but he knew he had treated most of the students, and Silvestre was one of his most frequent patients.

Did he get hurt on purpose just to see me?

Rayyan leaned back on her chair, rubbing his eyes under his glasses as a blush spread through his body.

That sounds so much like him.

As he overheated with the sheer strength of his blush, he couldn't help the small laugh that left his lips.

He's so cute.

And so incredibly stupid.