A Sliver Of Light in The Night Sky

Chapter 3

I swallowed the Ibuprofen the guy gave me, and wondered why he wasn't killing me. He didn't look at me like he wanted to kill me; he looked at me like he was puzzled.

But his eyes were the same, that dark blue like clowded cobalt rivers. Maybe he was, like, Four's brother or something. If he was, then I needed to leave, like, yesterday.

"Look, I can just drive myself to a hospital-"

"Would you shut up about that?" The guy asked, digging through his bedside table, to her left, by her good leg. "You can't go to a hospital; they'll take blood." Her retrieved a wad of cotton, a rectangular pad of it, and looked at it with utter satisfaction.

"What's wrong with blood?" I asked. "And why do you keep that in your nightstand?" I said, as he grabbed a roll of gauze from the drawer.

"They'll figure out your a Wolfblood," he said, moving to her right side. "And that's none of your business." He said, and sized up the knife. As his hand neared the knife, panic streaked through me.

"Please let me go to a hospital for this!" I almost-shouted. "Please, guy-"

"My name's Tobias." He said. "And no." He said, and scissored off one of my pant legs so he could access the wound.

"But-wait-" His hand closed around the knife, and my breath caught; I let it out, so when the real pain started I'd have no breath to scream.

One of his hands was around the hilt of the dagger; the other was beside it, holding the cotton pad beside the wound. "Where'd you these marks?" He asked, eyes wide. Though he looked like he wasn't going to do anything at that moment, my voice still came out in pants, panicked hyperventilate-y words.

"Fight . . . other wolf . . . probably killing . . . my pack. . . . coward," Somehow, he understood my broken sentence.

"You aren't a coward," he said. "Fleeing is brave, if you know you can't win."

"Shut up-" I was arguing, when he pulled on the knife; my left hand tangled in the fabric of his comforter; the other dug into the skin of my good knee. My breath stopped, and anger bubbled up inside of me. I know he just did that to shut me up. Maybe I could turn that knife on him-Tris, you're overreacting, said Caleb's voice inside my head. Shut up, Caleb. I thought.

Tobias wiggled the knife to get it unstuck; I threw torso to the side and bit into his pillow to keep from screaming.

"So, what's your power?" Tobias asked cheerfully.

"Fuck you!" I growled into the pillow.

"Jeez, Beatrice, just trying to change the subject."

"How about getting the fucking knife out of my fucking leg?!" I yelled.

"Beatrice? Shut up," he said calmly, and the knife came out; he pressed the cotton to it, swiping the blood off twice before switching the cotton pad and wrapping the gause tightly around my thigh. I screamed into his pillow, the pain blocking out the awkwardness of the situation I was in.

"There," Tobias said, smoothing the guaze on the top of my thigh, and smiling lightly. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Before he was halfway through the sentence, my fist slammed into his face; he'd turned his head so my knuckles cushioned on his cheek instead of the breaking of his nose. He was laughing hysterically.

"You're an asshole!" I hissed.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I know." Then, he got up and shoved another pillow under my head so I sat up. "I'll go get you some water." He said, disappearing out of the room. I laid back, resting my head on his pillows, and wiped sweat from my forehead; after a minute, I heard another voice, meaner tha Tobias's and more growling, loud enough that I heard it upstairs.