Forbidden (#1)✔️

eleven

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Guys I am trying to get as many chapters as I can written and published before college for me starts in September. 

Because when college starts, I will barely have any time to write.

Also prepare for some serious bonding sessions with Jaxon and Blaire because they are spending a whole ass week together...

toodles. x

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BLAIRE'S POV

"JAXON!" I shout, gently shaking his peaceful body. 

He jerks his eyes open at the sound of my shouting.

"BLAIRE? WHAT'S WRONG?!" He yells back trying to sit up but then looks down and notices the red, sloppy bandage covered in his blood.

"Jax, your bleeding, I need you to stand up so I can check your wound." I ask reaching for his hand. He moves his hand away refusing my help. 

He tries pulling the covers off himself but he struggles so I do it for him. He looks at me like he is annoyed at himself for needing my help. 

Not my fault he can't protect himself and claims he's adamant on protecting me. I don't believe him for a second. 

Hell I daren't mention that little pillow fight mishap last night, he asked for me to remove that piece of debris so what's changed?

He swings his legs, one at a time, to hang over the edge and he struggles to get in a sitting position. He groans, loud.

I can't help but smile at his struggles.

"Do you need help?" I ask and he raises those thick, perfect eyebrows of his.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out. I laugh out loud and he sighs, mumbling blasphemous words under his breath. 

I take his hand and place my other hand on his back and help him to a sitting position. Man I really need my strength to kick in right about now. 

Lifting his weak, solid body is more difficult than you think.

Once his is in a sitting position and I let go, thinking he can hold himself up...I was wrong.

He falls back down and I huff out of breath.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" I ask reaching back down for him. 

"Maybe." He smirks. OMG what a cheeky sod.

"Asshole, c'mon your bleeding." I say not finding this funny at all.

This time when I lift him up again he seems lighter than the first time so he can clearly hold himself up.

I hate this man so much, he stresses me out.

When he is again in a sitting position, he starts shaking his head and grips my hand harder.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask now holding both of his hands.

"It hurts to sit like this." He replies, the pain in his voice makes me cringe.

"Do you want to stand?" I ask and he instantly nods his head.

I pull him to his feet by slinging his arm around my neck and he uses my empty hand to help him push off the bed, leaning all his weight on me. Prick.

I slowly walk him over to the bathroom, every step we take, he hisses in pain.

Leaning him against the counter, I let go of him making his weight slump and he places both his hands on either sides of his body. 

I start slowly unwrapping his blood ridden bandage, I can feel his eyes bearing into the top of my skull, probably setting my bloody hair on fire.