Beautiful Boy

saltwater

amara haven

Nic sat on the counter in the bathroom while I soaked a face towel in warm water.

He winced and I turned to see him touching his lip again.

"Well, it's going to hurt if you poke at it, dumbass," I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, but it's itchy," he complained.

I giggled, "Hold still."

I dabbed his lip, cleaning away the dried blood.

"I'm going to go and mix some salt with some water, okay? I'll be right back," I said, tucking one of his curls behind his ear.

He nodded.

I headed down to the kitchen and stirred a spoonful of salt into a cup of warm water, grabbing an ice pack at the same time.

As I made sure I didn't need anything else before walking back upstairs, David appeared.

"Amara?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Hey," I muttered sheepishly.

"What are you doing up at eleven?" He asked.

"Just grabbing a few things," I hesitated.

"Saltwater and ice?" He raised his eyebrows, "What did Nic do this time?"

"He has a busted lip," I replied.

"From?" He asked.

"A fight," I sighed.

"Wha- a fight? Why? When?"

"At the pier, in the arcade," I swallowed, praying I wouldn't cry, "A guy was coming on to me- a-and-"

"So he got into a fight?" He asked, seemingly appalled.

I nodded, "I would've stopped him but I didn't know what to do- and I was scared."

"Yeah, I'm not blaming you, Am. I'm just- well- shocked that Nic would do that," he sighed, "Is he okay, though?"

I nodded eagerly, "It's just a busted lip and a few bruises on his knuckles."

"Okay, well, goodnight," he muttered.

"Goodnight," I practically whispered as I rushed up the stairs.

I was still a bit shaken from what happened, but I was focused on taking care of Nic before even beginning to acknowledge my own emotions.

He protected me, and I hated to admit it, but I think I fell even more in love with him for fighting that guy.

"Won't the saltwater sting?" He feared.

"Maybe for a second," I said.

He hesitated, knowing exactly what I was going to say.

"Don't you stick needles in your arms all the time?" I asked anyway.

"It's different!" He defended.

"It is not! Needles hurt waaay more than this will," I said.

I grabbed a syringe from the medical kit under the sink and filled it with saltwater.

I held his face in one hand with the towel from before.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Mhm," he closed his eyes.

I used the towel to stop the saltwater from trailing down his neck as I used the syringe to clean his cut.

He flinched away at first, then relaxed.