The Arrogant Asshole

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I sat on the cold tub edge, in the same position Jedediah was when I was hurt.

"Hold still," I said firmly.

His hands were clenched onto his jeans, fingers curled tightly into the denim. I sighed in exasperation as he flinched again from the rubbing alcohol.

"I know it hurts," I reasoned, grabbing his jaw to still his face, "but it needs to be clean to avoid infection."

His face hardened, bearing the pain as I dabbed the cotton ball on the red groove.

He inhaled sharply when I commented on his new behavior. "Good boy."

As I worked on applying ointment to his gash, I noticed his cheeks looking more pink than before. I hope he wasn't coming down with something from those late nights looking for me.

I mussed up his hair once I was done, signaling he was free to go.

"Thanks, Elijah."

I became flustered, not expecting my name from him so soon.

"It was my fault." I pointed out.

He shrugged, standing up and heading out the bathroom door.

"I should've been watching where I was going."

I nodded in agreement behind him, following him. Instead of heading back outside, he started climbing the stairs to the second floor.

I didn't know if I was allowed up there, and hesitated by the landing.

He turned around, eyebrows scrunched from confusion.

"What're you waiting for? C'mon."

I hurriedly scurried up after him like an obedient puppy. He led me to a room at the end of the hall, which turned out to be his room. He opened the door, flicking on a light switch, and closed some of the curtains by his desk.

I found it hard to believe he had a normal bedroom. He always seemed like a mysterious guy, keeping to himself. I felt honored to be allowed into his personal space.

"I like your room," I said, not straying far from the doorway. There was his bed on the right corner of his room, bedsheets and quilts wildly askew on it. A nightstand was settled next to his bed, stacked high with books. What a surprise. His desk was closer to the doorway, lined against the wall to the right of the door. A window overlooking the horse pasture sat above this desk, hidden from the thick gray curtains covering it. To the left of all this was a bookshelf and armchair with clothes stacked on it. Where the clothes should've been in, the closet, was a hamper sitting under a basketball hoop nailed to the wall. Cute.

I edged anxiously to the armchair, sitting on one of the arms carefully. As I got settled, I looked up to see his eyes glued on me, smiling at my nervous actions.

"I'm not gonna murder you or anything," he joked, leaning against his bed frame with crossed arms covering his broad chest.

"I wasn't so sure about that when you treed me," I jested back, crossing my own arms.

He snorted, reaching a hand up to lace it through his rich brown hair.

I sighed, relaxing into the armchair and leaning my head against it.

"Tired?" He asked softly, flopping onto his own bed.

I hummed in agreement, letting silence ensue in the room afterwards.

It was a good silence, the kind you don't need an excuse for. Until arguing drifted through the walls. It was his parents.

I glanced over at him, a frown etching my face. I knew how it felt.