Jawbreaker ❆ Tom Kaulitz

[ 14 ] Patch Me Up

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14. Patch Me Up
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                The walk back to the dorms is depressing, to say the least. With my hockey bag slung over one shoulder and a wad of flimsy, crumpled tissues pressed flush against my nose, I sulk all the way back from the rink across campus, the soft splatters of raindrops on my cheeks only adding to how miserable I feel right now.

                There is nothing I hate more than feeling sorry for myself.

My hand fishes lazily inside the pocket of my jeans for the key to my room and I pull them out quickly, swinging them around my index finger as I make my way down the hall, my chin tilted upwards to stop the blood that's been periodically spurting from my nose since I got kicked off the ice. I can't escape the overwhelming feeling of shame that's anchoring my stomach down right now — if I was given the choice to do so, I'd crawl into a hole and bury myself deep inside the earth just to get out of my head for a moment.

                My left cheek is throbbing faintly, the swelling evident out of the corner of my eye. I hiss quietly as I apply some light pressure to it, attempting to get a feel of the damage that Roman's done to my face. Fuck, I'm glad I take out my lip piercing for practice, otherwise I'm certain that he would've ripped it clean off my mouth without a second thought.

                And he would've enjoyed every second of it. Fucking bastard.

                "Are you okay?"

                I whip my head around and there she is in all her satanic glory; her hands balled up in little fists by her side, blonde tresses still pulled up in that tight-ass ponytail. My gaze casts downwards, pausing briefly on her exposed stomach, taking note of the glittering pink gem pierced through her bellybutton, the hem of her tracksuit pants rolled down on her hips. And God, those hips... Fuck, I wish she wasn't so goddamn fit.

I'm a sick man.

                "Aside from my bruised ego? My nose fucking hurts, and the prick busted my lip—," I start, shrugging my shoulders as I angle my body to face her.

                "I meant in the head," Saskia cuts me off abruptly, her eyes narrowed sharply as she sizes me up, "Are you fucking okay?" She tilts her head to the side as if she actually expects me to answer her question.

                I cock an eyebrow, scoffing lightly before I muster up a half-assed response, "Always the charmer. That wasn't my fault and you know it, Ice Princess."

                "Really? How would I know that? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like you threw the first punch," She challenges.

                "You're a pain in the ass," I groan, swiftly turning on my heel to exit this conversation.

"Oh, get over yourself," She huffs, her feet padding lightly across the carpeted floor behind me, "You're bleeding all over your shirt. It's gross."