4.𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒔

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The sky was finally clear, full of twinkling stars. No fog could be detected. It was a very pleasant evening. In the distance, I could recognize the figure of a man. He was walking weirdly, dragging his left leg behind him. I hurriedly came up to him to check if he was okay.

"Sorry to disturb you; I just wanted to be sure you're alright." His head turned to the side, and his chocolate eyes met mine. The moonlight was casting a bright light on him. I could see blood on his mouth and sweat dripping down his forehead. My gaze shifted down, and a knife was thrust into his leg.

"Oh, my fucking god! What happened to you?" I shrieked. Too much blood was pouring out of his wound. The knife was deeply buried in his flesh.

"I was fighting some men as they were trying to rob me, and that's how I ended up." He confessed and huffed.

I cannot leave him here alone. After he helped Grandma, I had to repay him.

"Let's go to my house. I'll help you if you would rather not go to the hospital." I said and supported his arms so he could feel more at ease.

It wasn't right to persuade him to go to my house when I knew nothing of medical stuff or how to remove a knife from the flesh, but when would I repay him, if not now?

He gave me a quick smile with a nod, and we slowly walked back to my house. Grandma was without a doubt asleep, so we had a clear space for ourselves.

"So, how did it happen?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"How did they stab me?"

"No- I meant, how did it come to this? You're a pretty tall, muscular guy. If I were a man, I'd never try to rob you." I said.

He let out a loud laugh, almost losing his ability to walk straight. It took him several minutes to calm down.

"Are you done now?" I asked, irritated.

"It depends if more hilarious stuff comes out of your mouth." He smirked at me and eyed my body.

I rolled my eyes and tugged on him.

Men could be lying on the death bed and still have inappropriate fantasies about women. But this was a different situation because I wanted to get rid of the debt that he caused when he helped Grandma.

After twenty minutes of slow walking, we entered the living room. I placed him gently on the couch, supporting his leg with a chair.

I ran around the house like a crazy person, trying to find a first-aid kit box. After digging through the cabinets in the bathroom, I thankfully found an old box with all the supplies I needed.

I positioned myself on my knees-my hands were constantly shaking. I grabbed the knife's handle and quickly drew it out of his flesh. He bit his lip so no sound would be made.

Too much blood, I thought.

"W-What should I?" He just stared at me, lifeless. "Ugh! I will handle it myself."

I know he was fighting alone against more than one person, but such a towering man with so many muscles couldn't beat up a couple of thieves? What were they trying to steal from him? A pack of cigarettes and a few dollars?

Blood flooded all around his leg, dripping onto the floor. I quickly grabbed a bandage and wrapped it around his leg to stop the bleeding. He winced in pain and let out a sigh of relief when I finished. I have no idea if what I did was right, but I cannot imagine I would be so heartless, leaving him to die in pain on the street. Maybe I should've taken him to the hospital after all.

"I have some old clothes that Grandpa wore, and there should be a pair of sweatpants too," I said. His jeans had a big hole from the knife, and well, they were covered in blood.

"Alright." He answered nonchalantly.

I helped him get upstairs soundlessly. I sat him on the edge of the bathtub and headed to the storage room. It was hard to look all through those clothes without being in pain.

Grandpa died a few years before my mother. He had some heart disease that could not be cured. I remember a glimpse of him. He was a very kind man.

Finally, I found black sweatpants and sprinted to the bathroom upstairs. I stayed outside, as he should be capable of changing by himself. While he was changing, my grandmother woke up. A light in her room flickered, which I could see from the stairs.

I barged back inside, seeing him half naked. "Sorry, but my grandma woke up, so-" I approached him and helped him pull the sweatpants up without asking permission to do so. Our eyes met for a brief second as he stared down at me with his dark eyes. A slight heat formed on my cheeks.

"We have to hide in my room, like right now!" I said, grabbing him by the wrist. I dragged him into my room, which was opposite the bathroom. I closed the door and pushed him onto the bed.

"Isn't it too soon for us to lay in bed together?" He asked with a smirk.

He probably feels better, I thought.

"Get. Inside," I commanded with a stern voice.

He listened to me and hid under the heavy covers. I laid right next to him, pulling the cover up to my chin. I could hear the footsteps getting closer to my door. My heart was racing like crazy. If Grandma found out I had a man in my bed, she would get a heart attack.

She does want me to find someone, but not without her permission first. She's afraid I'd end up like my mother.

The door slowly opened with a squeaking sound. Without thinking, I put my hands around his body and thrust him into mine.

He was lower than I expected, and his face bore into my chest. I bit into my lip as I couldn't scream from embarrassment.

His hand coiled around my waist, and my eyebrows instantly furrowed. I wriggled in his grasp, trying to free myself, but he held me tight. He for sure heard my racing heart. His strong and long fingers grasped my back, and his face nuzzled into my neck.

Grandma took a few steps ahead, but as she saw nothing unusual, she wandered back to her room downstairs.

The house echoed with her footsteps.

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Short chapter...

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