The group hurried in the service staircase to get into the room of the girls before anyone could see them.
From the wooden door, Kyle looked around the room. Sober, sparsely decorated, impersonal...
The oeil de boeuf divided the room in two. Where the ceiling, which was actually the roof, was lowest, he couldn't help but notice that the bunk beds were made, while on the other side, they remained messy. The rigor of Irene and Sharleen and the coolness of Lydia and Lippy.
Irene must have occupied the bed near the ceiling, just below another window, supposed Kyle. He was right. Irene had chosen this bed, placed in the attic, like when she slept on top of a pile of tatami mats, in their room...
Below the oeil de boeuf, a desk. As impersonal as the whole room. Above, only a bouquet of eyelets... Irene's favorite flowers.
Between the beds, next to the walls framing the one where the oeil de boeuf was pierced, and the desk, cupboards. On the left, framed photos of a baby: Pi's little sister, as well as below, beautiful drawings. All works by Lydia. On the two smallest left cabinets were medals. But not those of Irene, even they could easily have been mistaken for hers, those of Sharleen. Swimming had already offered her some great rewards. She had also posted pictures of her older brother in uniform. And she still hadn't had the strength to take them off. Above was Irene's space. Kyle felt his heart sink when he realized it was almost empty. With the exception of a photograph of Irene and her father, and another... With Soline. And behind them... Him, Como, and Emy...
Kyle smirked, and put Irene on her bed, but she asked him:
-Take care of Sharleen first. Please.
-You're so stubborn that I'm not even going to try to contradict you, said the young man dramatically.
He grabbed the disinfectant and the bandages held out by Pi and began to treat the brunette's arm.
-So ? Who taught you to fight? You're doing pretty well.
-Oh, my big brother. He is in the army.
-The big brothers, it's the best school to learn how to fight, assured Kyle slyly.
-Yeah, sure, Irene whispered, surprising Kyle. Even though mine is a big arrogant idiot, she eventually added. The natural always took over.
Sharleen and Pi exchanged a glance. Sharleen slowly began:
-Talking about fighting skills... Where in the world have you learnt fighting, Ira?
Kyle stared at the girls, in shock. Reine, his Reine, had hid from them her passion for karate? For two years?
-I... used to practice karate, answered Irene.
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Used to"?
Pi laughed:
-Really? You don't look really... athletic...
Irene didn't answer. Kyle was surprised by her lack of reaction. He therefore decided to respect her decision and focused on healing the superficial cut of Sharleen.
Once it had been done, Kyle approached Irene, still lying on the bed. She had ripped off her spun tights. Kyle gently took off her shoe.
-Interesting choice of shoes, Reine, he teased her.
-Very funny. They are comfortable and I can even fight with them... Ouch!
Kyle had taken the opportunity to pour alcohol on her wound.
-You took advantage of it, stupid!
But the pain prevented her from keeping on. That did worried Kyle. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, even though it was not really essential. When her tremors had stopped, he gently pulled her away.
YOU ARE READING
Even Angels get hurt
Hành động"But then, what have you in common with the child of five whose photograph your mother keeps on the mantelpiece? Nothing, except that you happen to be the same person." George Orwell _________________________________________________________________...
