Between the Cracks // 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂

40. Sweetheart

Chapter 40: Sweetheart

"Leigh, what the fuck."

She almost jumped at the change in his tone, not ready for the harshness it suddenly held. Her head whipped towards him, seeing him still holding the sleeve in his hands, this time with her hand peeking out underneath the end of the fabric. Her still bandaged hand stuck out like a sore thumb.

Shit.

She had strted to grow numb to the feeling of the injury by now, and being here got her mind off everything, like it normally did. She felt stupid not being able to hide it better. Quickly pulling the hand out of his grasp, Leigh let it fall safely under the cover of both her own and Fred's jumper, hoping he could let it go. Knowing he wouldn't.

"Leigh." He said again, stricter this time, and she glanced up at him. The signature joyful energy was nowhere to be seen. "Why haven't you been up to the hospital wing or used a healing spell on this?" His voice was suddenly firm, yet clouded with genuine confusion. His tone harsher than before.

She didnt have the words, her mouth felt dry. She shrugged, mumbled, "It just...slipped my mind."

Fred stopped a scoff from escaping his lips. Just by the amount of blood he saw seeping through the bandage 2 days ago when she dropped off his jacket he knew that it was a serious injury. There is no way she wouldn't notice it and have it slip her mind for those few says.

"Don't give me that," he shut her down firmly, gaze not leaving her form, studying her every move and expression. "Why haven't you?"

She made no move to reply, merely letting herself sink into the couch, fiddling with her fingers and the bandage under the cover of her sleeve. She didn't know whether to cower or bite back.

"You have to talk to me."

"I don't have to do anything Fred," she snapped agitatedly, returning a scorching gaze. "I already told you, it slipped my mind. I was busy. What's the big deal."

He looked like he was slightly taken aback by her tone, only prompting him to push further, his brows furrowing angrily in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me? The big- the big deal is that you've been walking around with an injury the last couple of days and you're acting like you don't mind it."

She rolled her eyes at his words, a breathy laugh rising in her throat, matching, or even surpassing, his mood. "Alright, you're just making things up now," she spoke as she stood up from the couch, not knowing where she wanted to go except away from here. She really didn't need this right now.

He quickly followed suit, standing up beside her, his tall frame angled her way as he spoke harshly. "What the hell is it then? I know it didn't slip your mind. You know it can be fixed, it takes a second. You chose not to do it."

Beneath his words and angry tone he could feel an anxiousness sweep through him – a worry about the answer. Something wasn't right. The way she kept averting his gaze. The way he saw how her hand fiddled with and pressed against the bandage just out of cover of her sleeve.

He could see the frustration bubbling in her eyes as she spoke again. "Look, it's not a big deal. I'll fix it, just– just leave me alone!"

"I'm not doing that," he said firmly, crossing his arms.

Her gaze shot daggers his way as she thought over her next move. "Fine," she spat finally. She turned around, dropping the blankets behind her onto the floor and immediately walking in the direction of the stairs which led down into the shop.

Fred dropped his arms to his sides as he angrily clenched his jaw, soon taking two quick steps towards her to grab onto her arm, stopping her in her tracks.