Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
༻✧༺ CHAPTER THREE ༻✧༺
I COULD HEARwhoever had entered the house climb up the stairs with heavy steps.
The fact that the person making their way upstairs where I was lying at my most vulnerable—wasn't Arthur.. Let's just say my survival instincts were turned on within in seconds.
I slowly sat up, too afraid to care about the aching pain I felt all over my body. My vision was blurry, but I could see a tall figure emerge from up the stairs, the figure stopping a short distance away.
"N-no— stop.. please." I mumbled quietly, placing my hands on the floor to drag myself backwards and away from the blurry figure.
My back hit the wall, a wave of terror washed over me as the figure approached, and I suddenly felt two warm hands grab a hold of my face.
"(y/l/n). Hey, look at me." I heard a familiar voice speak up, the big hands that were holding my face gently turning it to face their own.
When my vision became more clear, I couldn't help but let out a subtle gasp at the sight of Rafe Cameron crouching down before me.
"Holy shit.." He muttered to himself, his eyes looking me up and down, his gaze stopping on my collarbone, one of the few wounds that was still bleeding.
"What— what are you doing here?" I asked weakly, finding it hard to keep my eyes open while also trying to concentrate on Rafe.
"Your stupid ass forgot your jacket." He answered my question, motionion the pastel blue piece of clothing he had loosely hanging over his broad shoulders.
"It's a cardigan, dip-shit." I spat, lazily leaning my head back on the wall behind me.
Rafe let out a scoff, "so beating you up wouldn't shut you up either. Good to know." He muttered in the same deep voice, suddenly moving one of his two arms under my knees while placing the other on my back.
"What are you doing?" I inquired, feeling my body no longer be in contact with the cold floor, my head limply falling back on his shoulder instead.
"Taking you to the hospital. You're mad crazy if you think I'm cleaning up that shit for you." His grip on me tightened as he walked towards the stairs, taking it one step at a time.
The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs he felt the need to adjust his grip on me, lifting me up a bit more so my head subconciously moved to the crook of his neck.
