FEEL SO HIGH SCHOOL (WinRina)

11

I was really having a hard time washing my hair without getting my forehead wet. Even after washing the rest of my face, the stitched part of my forehead still felt somehow unclean, no matter how carefully I wiped around it.

But, I guess it's paying off, because now, here I am, sitting on Teacher Yu's desk while she prepares to clean my stitches, with Ella and Lucio watching.

I was about to pick up Ella earlier when Teacher Yu called me over, handing me a paper bag filled with ointments and other things for my wound. I thanked her, telling her, "I'll let Rosie take care of it later on-she already cleaned it up this morning." Teacher Yu looked at me with a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Wait, you're not the one cleaning your own wound?"

Without thinking, I blurted out, "I like being babied." As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back.

She paused, and then the corners of her mouth lifted into that infuriatingly amused smile. "Of course you do." In my defense, it's just something I usually joke about with my friends!

I felt my face heat up. "Well, you don't have to say it like that," I muttered, trying to salvage whatever dignity I had left. "It's just... nice to let someone else handle it sometimes, alright?"

She snorted. "That's one way to put it. Let me clean it up this time, then." Without giving me a chance to protest, she reached over and took the paper bag from my hands with a firm but gentle grip. "Since I'm technically responsible for those stitches, I'll handle it this time."

Before I could even think of a reply, she was already heading into the classroom, placing the paper bag on her desk and pulling out the supplies she needed. I stood there, momentarily dumbfounded, watching her as she carefully arranged everything. She moved with a kind of precision and focus that made it clear she was used to taking care of others. Finally, she glanced back at me, nodding toward the chair beside her desk.

I slowly made my way over, sitting down and trying to ignore the way my heart sped up as she settled in close.

Ella, her curious eyes on the scene, finally asked, "Teacher, why are you patching Auntie Winter up?"

Teacher Yu chuckled, she glanced at the two kids and said, "Because sometimes grown-ups aren't very good at taking care of themselves. And your aunt here..." she glanced back at me with a smirk, "Is one of those people."

I rolled my eyes. "Very funny, Ms. Yu." I muttered, about to make another comeback when she reached out, holding my chin and tilting my face up towards her. My retort died on my lips as our eyes met, her gaze softening as she examined my stitches, focused and steady.

Her presence filled the space between us as she leaned in, her fingers warm as they gently dabbed at my stitches. Her touch was delicate, almost featherlight, and every time she pressed a bit the cotton bud to my forehead, a soft warmth lingered on my skin. It was like she knew exactly how to avoid hurting me, her movements careful and precise.

I swallowed, feeling the heat rise in my face as I took the chance to really look at her. Up close, I could see the fine lines of concentration on her forehead, the subtle arch of her brows as she focused intently on my wound. Her lashes framed her eyes perfectly, and her mouth-her soft, pink lips pursed slightly as she worked, a little crease forming in the corner as if she were murmuring instructions to herself.

I was so caught up in noticing all these tiny details that I didn't realize I was openly staring until she glanced down, her eyes meeting mine. Her lips parted, her gaze softening just slightly as she caught me in the act. I quickly looked away, cheeks burning, but not before I noticed the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.