17 Last Times

⤹29❁ Unrefined

Hello hello! Sorry it took me a week but work is work and adult life is adult life *sobs in tired*. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope it clears some things up. Thank you for sticking with this story!

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It's like I'm starting at a nightmare. His grey T-shirt is covered in blots of blood, some of which are less saturated as the fluid has soaked into the fabric and blurred into light pink. His face doesn't look any less horrifying. There are dark, almost navy-blue circles under his eyes — an escalating result of his broken nose. The skin of his face is marked with blood in such a disturbing way, as though someone splattered it with a paint brush. His left eyebrow, bottom lip and the area around one of his cheekbones are all wounded — it appears to me that he's been striked so hard his skin cracked open.

My eyes slide down from his matted, covered in sweat and blood hair to his hands, also smeared with crimson. His knuckles are harmed and bruised and swollen to such extent he can't straighten his fingers. He can barely hold onto the door frame. In fact, I think he can barely stand.

"Oh my goodness, what happened to you!?" I gush, helping him back inside.

"Where's Nathan? I'm waiting for Nathan," he speaks in a hoarse, weak voice.

The feeling of panic takes root. "I–I don't know," I mutter out, bringing him to the bed and helping him down onto it. "Don't move. I'll try to find the first aid kit." I search around the room in a frantic manner. "Do you even own one?" I turn my head behind my shoulder to look at him whilst I'm rummaging through the drawers.

"It should be in the bathroom." He wills some strength into his voice.

I take out my cellphone to call Nathan and tell him about his roommate and what happened to him, and that's when Nathan storms into the room.

He acknowledges me quickly but says nothing. Instead, he darts towards Jeremy and examines his wounds.

"Don't bother with the first aid kit," he tells me, deducing correctly what I'm doing by spotting me at the bathroom door. "We need to take him to A&E. Right now."

I nod my head like a wind-up doll.

"Help me get him up," Nathan orders again, and it shocks me how organized and clear his mind is in this exact moment. It's almost as if he's already been through this before.

I emerge my the bed and help Nathan hoist his friend up from the mattress. Jeremy must be getting weaker with every second as he feels way heavier than he did just a moment ago when I helped him down onto this bed.

"Here." Nathan wraps my arm around Jeremy's waist. "Hold him like this. Don't move your arm any further up. I'm sure his ribs are bruised. Actually, one or two might be even broken."

"How do you know?" I ask, overwhelmed.

"Listen to his breathing. He's struggling."

"Oh." I turn my eyes to look at Jeremy's face. I strain my ears to focus on his breathing during this chaos. Nathan is right. Each breath Jeremy takes is like he's being stabbed — his expression distorts in pain.

"Come on. We can't waste any more time," Nathan hurries as he also wraps his arm around Jeremy's presence. "He might have a concussion."

"Do you know what happened?" I ask quietly, not wanting to sound nosy. "I'm just concerned. Who would do such a thing?"

Nathan lets out an angry snort and his eyes turn dark and cold.

He knows.

He knows what happened and he knows exactly who did this.