You've Got to Be Kidding Me (boyxboy) ON HOLD

8. I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed to Be

            Luke led me out of the school and to his car. He opened up the passenger door and helped me in. After he buckled my seat belt, he pulled back and looked at me, analyzing the damage to my face. He shook his head and said, "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," I said, my voice hoarse. "Take me home."

"Christian, something could be broken. I have to take you to the hospital."

"No, I can't afford to go to the hospital," I told him and it was true. I couldn't bother my mom or brother with this, nor did I have the money. "Please, Luke."

He looked at me, his eyes lowering as he fought about it with himself. "Fine," he said reluctantly before closing the passenger door and getting into the driver's seat.

The ride was silent, there wasn't even music playing. It was while I was sitting in the seat and looking out the window that I truly started to feel the pain. My left eye was throbbing and my head was starting to pound as a headache came on. My whole body was aching and I could only imagine the amount of bruises I would have.

We pulled into my driveway and Luke quickly got me inside. "Where's your bathroom?" he asked after closing the front door behind us. "And do you have a first aid kit?"

"The bathroom upstairs has a first aid kit," I answered, walking up the stairs and entering the bathroom. I bent down, wincing at the pain that shot through my back and opened up the cabinet under the sink before pulling out the first aid kit that hasn't been opened since my mom used to live here. When I stood back up, my reflection caught my attention. My left eye was black and purple and swelling heavily. Just under my eye there was dried blood coming from a small cut on my cheek. My lips were red with lipstick and it was hard to differentiate between what was the lipstick and what was actually blood from my split lips. I looked away and handed the kit to Luke and he quickly set it on the counter before asking if he could sit me on the counter as well. I nodded and he grabbed me gently by the hips before picking me up and setting me down.

"Do you have a washcloth that I can use?" he asked after opening up the kit.

"In the cabinet behind you."

He turned around, opened the cabinet, and pulled out a blue wash cloth. He put it under the faucet and quickly got it wet before bringing it to my cheek and wiping the blood away. After cleaning up the wound, he grabbed an alcohol wipe from the kit and brought it to my cheek. I hissed at the contact and he muttered a small sorry before putting a bandage over the cut. He grabbed another washcloth and began to gently wipe away the lipstick. He was holding my face with one hand and wiping my lips with the other. His eyes were narrowed and I couldn't make out what he was feeling.

Once he finished, he set the cloth down and grabbed my face with both of his hands. His eyes ran along my face, examining every detail. "This is all my fault," he said after a moment, his thumb running along my right cheek. I stared up at him, searching his eyes and wondering if I should say something to comfort him. I didn't say a word though. Instead, my hand grabbed his, my eyes closed, and I leaned into his touch.

His thumb stopped caressing my cheek. I opened my eyes and glanced up at him. He was staring down at me, the look in his eyes darkening by the second. His thumb came up and began to caress my bottom lip, making my lips part. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice lowering an octave and his face coming closer. "Christian," he muttered when our lips were merely inches apart, "let me kiss you."

I nodded slightly and then his lips were on mine. It was a kiss so soft and warm and sweet that it only made me crave more. After a moment, his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer to the edge of the counter so that there was no space between us. His tongue licked at my bottom lip, making me gasp in pain, but the two of us ignored it and my mouth opened beneath his, deepening the kiss.