Finn

Chapter Thirty-Three

The action was hard enough to send me sprawling to the floor, but not enough that it knocked me unconscious. I almost wished it had, as the pain spread from my cheek and caused an instant throbbing headache. The room was eerily silent as we both processed what had happened.

It wasn't until I started to sit up and reached a hand to my face that I let out a hiss of pain. There were three, bloody scratch marks down my cheek that had me wincing away when I tried to touch them.

"Finley, I am so sorry..." Cillian took a step towards me, bending down to check on me. I scrambled away from him, clumsily climbing to my feet as I glared at him.

"Stay the fuck away from me." I growled at him, holding my arms out to keep him at a distance. I knew if he wanted to I wouldn't be able to fight him off, but luckily he listened and stayed a few feet away from me.

"I didn't mean to-" Cillian tried to argue when I cut him off. He looked seconds away from breaking down, the look of remorse on his face exactly what I had been looking for moments before. The irony was almost laughable.

"I don't care what you meant to do, Cillian," I scowled at him. I held a hand to my face as more blood feel down my cheek, flinching at the contact. I took a step in the direction of the staircase, careful not to turn my back to him, "I'm going upstairs. Don't follow me."

"No, wait. We need to talk about this," Cillian insisted, attempting to follow me towards the stairs. I glared at him, and he stopped moving, but continued arguing, "I really am sorry, Finley. I want to work this out."

"I'm not talking to you when you're like this," I told him, shaking my head and immediately regretting it as my head throbbed. I turned towards the stairs again, "we can talk later."

"Okay..." Cillian reluctantly agreed, hanging his head as he watched me walk up the staircase. Right before I reached the top, he called my name and me stop to look down at him.

"I love you, Finley." He told me quietly, his eyes glistening in the light as he watched me. I kept my face blank as I stared back at him. I paused there for only a moment, before turning on my heel and leaving him in silence.

His words meant nothing to me now. Cillian had proven that he could say anything to my face, and it didn't make it true. He could tell me he loved me all day long, and I wasn't sure I'd ever believe him again.

By the time I made it to the bathroom, my face was covered in blood. The scratches themselves didn't look too deep, but they ran down the length of the right side of my face. The skin underneath them was starting to turn a light shade of purple as a bruise formed, and my right eye was half swollen.

I tried to clean it off with a washcloth, but quickly gave up after covering the white material in blood. I stripped off the t-shirt and sweatpants I was wearing and made sure to carefully place Turin's letter on the counter. Then I stepped into the steaming shower and took my time to carefully wipe away all the blood and dried tears from my face.

Eventually, the throbbing in my head started to subside, and the bleeding slowed down. I wasn't sure how long I was in the shower, completely lost in the fog of my brain. I was emotionally exhausted after the events of the day, and I knew I needed to sleep before I could process what to do next.

So I pushed away all of my thoughts and worries for tomorrow, and focussed on getting out of the shower and drying off. I found another pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in the closet. I slipped them on quickly and headed back into the main part of the bathroom.

I frowned in confusion when I noticed my discarded clothes missing. I had tossed them onto the floor next to the door, but they were nowhere in sight. When I checked the counter for Turin's letter, I found it completely empty.