Mirrored Exile (HS)

eleven

chapter eleven - only ones who know

Lucy Caddel

"Harry, hold still," I say, inspecting his cut.

It's reddened and looks deep, revealed under the tear of his white shirt. I can see the fern tattoos on is lower abdomen. The cut is just above the right one.

"I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt." He lies.

"Doesn't it?" I push my fingers into it with slight pressure.

He flinched and sucks his teeth. You can tell he's in pain. I shake my head and continue to look at the cut.

"How deep do you think it is?" He asks.

"Deep enough to need a couple of stitches, it won't take long," I say, opening the first aid kit with my stained red fingers. Zayn lent us his kit since our other one was stolen.

Zayn had gone off to the lounge room, Harry and I sat on the spare double bed we stayed in last time. I make him lie down as I cut the nylon stitch to an appropriate length. I grab an alcohol cleansing wipe and clean the blood and excess dirt around the wound to reduce infection before I stitch it up. I hold the scissors and the needle as I thread it through the cut.

"Fuck-." Harry shifts his body, the wound must be really sensitive and tender.

"Either there's still glass in it or you have zero pain tolerance." I joke.

"Very funny. But there's gotta be glass, I've never had a stitch hurt like this." He sits up slowly.

I grab the metallic tweezers from the box and hover it over his wound, waiting for him to nod. He does so and I insert the end into the wound. Instantly I feel a force against it. I wiggle the tweezers a bit and pinch them down. Harry clutches the pillow next to him for leverage. I slowly slip the object out to see the glass. It's a little red from his blood.

"Let's see how your pain tolerance is now." I laugh and place the glass in a small plastic bag. I cleaned the wound and set up the stitching equipment again. Harry sits quietly this time, I flick my eyes to him and he's watching me suture the wound together intently.

"Lucy?" He whispers.

"Harry?" I say back.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He says quietly.

"What about earlier?" I use the scissors to cut the last excess piece of nylon stitching.

"How I put you in that situation with Alonso." He admits and I look at his green eyes. His brown curls hang loosely on his head. The sweat made his forehead glow a little under the light. Soft dimples and pink lips curate the sympathetic smile on his mouth.

"It's okay Harry. I got more joy out of kneeing goldie chains in the balls than you'll ever know." I laughed.

He laughs with me. I pack up the first aid stuff and sit it on the bedside table. Harry gets up and unbuttons the ripped white shirt, slipping it off as I stare at his back. The muscles move around as he bends down and picks up another black shirt that is on the floor.

I shake my head to break from the sudden trance he put me in. He makes me more nervous than I like to admit. I turn around and away from him to look at a picture on the wall. It's a cafe in Greece. The walls were painted a bright white with pink flowers and green vines flowing down it. In the distance, there's an ocean. Glistening and blue.