Little Miss Popular

❥ Chapter 18

My heart sinks as I take in the scene in front of me.

Ivan on the floor, bleeding.

My dresser open.

I lock the walk-in door behind me as I step closer. Each small step I take, makes my heart beat faster. His blood is flowing but he does not move. The air feels thick and I am finding harder and harder to breath.

I fall on my knees next to him. Looking at my dresser's familiar wall. Filled with pictures of him, in different angles, and positions. Some of him at the park, some at school, some at home. My favorite is the one with him wet with a towel wrapped around his waist, showing his V-shape and another towel being used to dry his hair. They were even before freshman year. All taken without his knowledge.

This is my biggest secret, laid bare in front of the one person I dread the most to see. My eyes fall back on him. He, on the other hand, is still frozen in place, not even registering the cut on his arm.

I quickly rush to my feet and grab the first aid kit. I pull out a bandage and press it against the cut in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His beige sweater is now ripped where the vase shard slashed him

Ivan finally moves at the sudden contact, his gaze now on me. He studies my face for a moment, his usual demeanor changed.

He hates me now..

We stay like this for a while, his attention on me, mine on his arm. There is a silence, the air was still heavy and I can vividly hear my heart beating, till the bleeding stops.

"You need to wash it so I can apply ointment." I break the silence, as I grab the first aid kit and move to stand. He does not follow, instead he grabs my arm, preventing me from standing.

"You liked me this entire time.."

For the first time it is me who is blushing. This is definitely not the reaction I was expecting, of all the things to say.

"We need to clean the wound." I mention towards his arm.

He finally gets up and follows me to the bathroom. I place the ointment and fresh bandages on the counter and turn on the tap for him. I avoid staring at his biceps beneath his white T-shirt, when he removes his sweater.

I grab the entire roll of toilet paper, looking anywhere but him as I make my way back to the walk in and attempt to clean the mess as much as I can.

"Stop." Ivan appears next to me, his hand gently on mine. His arm already bandaged. "I'll do it."

"That was fast, you should've called me to bandage it."

He does not respond, he grabs the toilet paper and cleans up the mess. I watch his focused expression as he wipes up all the blood, a loose hair falls on his forehead and I hold myself back from moving it out of his way. His T-shirt does little to cover his muscular physique. His innocent appearance heavily contradicts his body.

Finishing the entire roll, he throws it in the bathroom trash. I stay in the closet, not knowing what to do or say.

"We need to talk.." he finally says, my heart drops. Millions of things he could possibly say run through my mind.

'I'm breaking up with you.'

'I'm calling the police.'

'You're a freak.'

I brace myself.

"There's nothing going on between me and Iju." I finally look at him in surprise. "I wasn't going tell you everything coming here but I think we should start being completely honest with each other."

I nod almost enthusiastically.

"I was going to scare Iju. She was lying to you, trying to get between us." I nod again, in agreement. "But then I saw this guy, who I was looking for. He had some of her stuff, clothes and her phone in a duffle bag but she wasn't with him. I guess he went back for them. At first, I was going to tail him, but he spotted me. I had to get rid of him and I guess I dropped her phone when I checked the bag. It had my finger prints all over it."

I frown in confusion.

"A couple of years ago, before I moved to my uncle's house.. my sister went missing after this woman kicked her out for defending me. The guy I killed was one of the suspects, I just didn't know where he was. Turns out that motherfucker was here all along, hiding." He awkwardly chuckles at the last part. I sit on the bed and mention for him to sit next to me, he obeys. "But you see? I didn't have anything to do with her." Desperation laces his voice.

"I believe you." I finally say.

"I only love you." He breathes out, his hand cupping my cheek.

"I love you too."

I connect our lips, his taste of smoke and mint. Warmth replaces the vigorous beating of my heart. Ivan's lips impossibly soft against my own. I feel inexplicably closer to him than before, a bond between us that could last a life time. I want to know everything about him, every little detail. Every secret, every memory, every mole, every inch of him.

And that's what we did for the rest of the night. As the party went on below us, he told me about his sister, how she defended him against their birth giver who sexually abused him and treated him like her husband after his father died, how his sister was the mother figure he craved and his actual mother in prison for violating her parole.

I, in turn, told him about my own mother. About the abuse I suffered at her hand. It felt like an unfair trade for the weight of his trauma, yet he made me feel validated. Never once belittling my experiences.

On the contrary, he seemed more upset than I am.

Our interlaced fingers. His head against my stomach. My hand in his hair. The cool breeze from the open window. This moment isn't sexual, yet feels more intimate and naked than any moment I had. I feel heard, cared for and protected.

The only thing that reminds us of our surroundings, of this earth, is the occasional rustling at the door knob as couples attempt to find a place to hook up tonight. Unfortunately for them, I locked all the doors so they have to settle for bathrooms, and corners in hallways.

"Let's go on a date, like a real one." I suggest.

"I'll plan it."

A content smile spreads across my face.

We eventually fell asleep after we reminisced on the small nice moments we had. His was the year his mother first went to jail, the moments with his sister and freshman year, when I saved him. Mine was also that day, freshman year, the day he moved in next to me, meeting Yusra and finally experiencing real family, and.. the first time I met him, in elementary school.

I remember it like it was yesterday, my mother had just hit me, my knees were bleeding and I had a giant bruise on my stomach. I was crying on the swing. He bought me bandaids and ice cream, told me he was also hiding from his mother. We never spoke again till freshman year, he was always too distracted, never really looked at me or anyone.

Ivan doesn't seem to remember, confessing he doesn't remember much of the years leading up to his mother's arrest.

Anger and sympathy fill my chest.

┊͙

It's gonna be wholesome from here on out, just tying the story together so it can come to an end (plus smut ofc). I started uni so I need to finish this before I leave you guys waiting again😭

Thank you for reading ♥︎