Here We Go Again

Take the Bet

Kyara woke up in an immense amount of pain. It was one of those kinds of pain that spread slowly from the center of your chest out towards even the tips of your fingertips until you couldn't even tell which part of your body was actually the source of the pain. It wasn't until after a few seconds of blinking and shallow breaths that she realized she was still tied to the chair. Except, now she was slumped over to the right, and a steady flow of her blood was dripping from where the rope dug into her skin just below her ribs.

Kyara stared at the small pool of blood below the chair, completely perplexed as to how that had happened. She looked around, searching for the person who had left their blood on the floor. Silly person, they needed that stuff to live. Kyara was about to give up looking, her eyes to fuzzy for some reason, when she spotted a familiar guy rushing towards her. He was yelling something. Oh, he was yelling her name.

It seemed to her that he was in some distress. Kyara shook her head, completely ignoring whatever gibberish he was speaking. Instead, she decided to focus on figuring out why the rope that had previously been brown was now a crimson color. It was kinda pretty, but a little concerning.

"Kyara! Keep your eyes open, for god's sake." Zayn pulled her face so she would look at him and not the pretty rope. Kyara gave him a small frown. It seemed like a pretty good time to take a nap to her. Just as she closed her eyes again the pretty rope stopped supporting her, and she slumped sideways off the chair. Something stopped her from hitting the ground, so that was good. And then she was flying. Well, she felt like she flying. Zayn was actually just carrying her.

Unbeknownst to her, Zayn was yelling at her and jogging her around every few steps in attempt to keep her awake. Kyara was a lot paler than she was eight hours before, and definitely less coherent. Zayn placed her on the cool bathroom tile, trying to remain at least a little calm for Kyara. This wouldn't work if both of them were laying on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Once the emergency number was dialed, Zayn set to work on doing what the dispatcher had told him to. It was a little difficult to remove her blood stained shirt, but eventually he got it unstuck from her skin. The lacerations weren't deep, but they were wide, and there were lots of them.

Kyara was mumbling something about a pretty rope as Zayn ripped the shirt into strips he could tie over the cuts to keep pressure on them. Ten minutes of odd mumbling and Zayn trying to keep the girl awake later, the helicopter could be heard landing on the beach. Zayn yelled when they walked into the house so they could follow his voice to the bathroom. The emergency personnel pushed him out of the room before he could even object.

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Kyara woke up to immense pain yet again, but this time she was fully lucid to feel it all. Several voices could be heard, yet no one seemed to notice when Kyara opened her eyes and let out a low groan. She could hear Zayn speaking behind her head, his tone worried and tired.

"It really wasn't the loss of blood that was the problem. She only lost about a pint of blood. The problem was that she lost that much blood when her blood sugar was low enough to be a problem on its own. If she'd had better blood sugar levels, she wouldn't have passed out and leaned so heavily on the rope. You couldn't have guessed that she would've fallen unconscious after losing hardly enough blood to make someone sluggish. Next time, maybe just ask her nicely to do the livestream, Mr. Malik."

The voice was thickly accented, but they sounded like they knew their stuff, so Kyara just listened.

"Alright... I'll make sure she's eating a substantial amount and drinking something other than Monster for a change. Do I need to make sure she gets the pain meds, or is that an option?" Kyara twisted her head as much as her stiff neck allowed, but she still couldn't see Zayn's face.