|| {𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑩𝒖𝒔 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒅} || • {𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒎𝒂} •

(𝐒𝟏) | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟐𝟐

What was it? I didn't knew what what happening. What they said. What they did. Someone stabbed it. But I was bleeding. I was on the ground. Bleeding. Before I knew it I was laughing but also crying. Silent of course. I didn't knew what to do.

I didn't wanted them all to see all of my injuries. So I hide the blood. Ashlyn told Ben to clean up the injury and bandage it. 

I sat with him back in the bus meanwhile Aiden looked at the dead creature. The others were talking. 

Ben took a kit with badges. Then he wrote on a paper: 

'Uh... I want to clean up the wound, but your shirt is kinda in way... could you take it off, if it's okay with you? Do you need help?'

I nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious but trusting him completely. With a lot of struggle I sat straight. With one hand I held my shirt, the other one was on my lap. I looked up at Ben, hopeless, then down on my shirt. He nods. His fingers reached for the hem of my shirt, and I lifted my arms slightly to help. He pulled it up carefully, trying not to cause me any more pain. I ticked as the shirt touched my wound. It burned as hell. And I guess Ben noticed this, because he saw the expression on my face. As the fabric slid over my head, I winced, the movement tugging at the tender skin around the wound.

As we finally had my shirt off, I sat in front of him, only with my bra on. This was embarrassing. It really was. 

His eyes met mine as he saw how my cheeks turned into a darker shade of pink. But god since when did he looked so attractive?!

Don't judge me...

He took me by my waist and gently turned around so he could face the wound. I felt butterflies in my stomach. 

Dear god, what was he doing to me?

First he took a look at the wound. I sat on the edge of the bus seat, trying to keep my breathing steady as Ben knelt in front of me. His hands were shaking slightly, but his eyes were focused and determined. I watched as he opened the first aid kit, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and a clean cloth.

He took a pen and paper and wrote:

'This might sting a little', he faced me softly, looking up at me with a reassuring smile. I nodded, bracing myself for the sharp sensation.

Gently, he dabbed the cloth with antiseptic and pressed it against the wound. I flinched, a sharp intake of breath escaping my lips. I could swear that I heard him murmured an apology but thats the point: he didn't talk. He continued, carefully cleaning the area with a tenderness that belied his nervousness. After a few moments, he set the cloth aside and reached for a roll of bandages. He tore off a strip with practiced ease, his movements becoming more confident. With a light touch, he wrapped the bandage around my injured side, securing it snugly but not too tight.

Once again he took out his paper and wrote:

'How does that feel?' his eyes meeting mine again. There was genuine concern in his gaze, and I felt a warmth spread through me at his care.

I took the paper and pen from him:

'It's good' I replied, offering him a small smile. 'Thank you.'

He returned the smile, a flush of pride coloring his cheeks. 'I'm glad I could help' he wrote, sitting back on his heels and closing the first aid kit. 

As he stood up, he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. 'Just take it easy for a while, okay?', he game me a not.

I nodded, feeling a sense of comfort and gratitude. With that, he turned to leave, and I couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for the boy who had so carefully tended to my wound.

I was sitting on the bus, staring out the window as the scenery blurred by. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me, and the world started to tilt. I tried to steady myself, but my vision blurred, and I felt myself slipping off the edge of the seat. Before I could fall, I felt a strong hand catch me. Ben's hand. He gently but firmly held my head, preventing me from hitting the floor. His other arm wrapped around my shoulders, steadying me. I looked at him. And God  he looked handsome. From this ankle I saw every of his muscles, through the wet grey shirt he was wearing, (because of  the sweat I guess). Yep it was handsome. He is handsome. Ben still held my head and then took me on the seats in a comfortable position, so I could sleep. Or at least rest a bit. 

The others were doing something with the phantom. Talking... then I fell asleep.