Why are you so lovely?

This Might Sting A Little

I walked back into the room with the kit placed in the grip of my right hand while my left held a stack of cotton swabs. You were beaten bad. Very very bad.

"There she is." You whispered with a dainty smile as I shut the door. Rolling my eyes I placed the kit on the desk next to wear you were seated. You examined what I was doing; pouring the alcohol on the gauze wipes, dipping the swabs in the alcohol, opening bandage packs, freezing up the instant ice pack. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" You choked out, sincere curiosity trailed your voice.

I smiled at the thought, pouring just a little more on the gauze. "I want to be a nurse. I really want to be a nurse."

Your beaten up lips creeped up to a grin as you ran a hand through your hair, quickly turning your happiness to pain. A series of muttered curse words left your mouth and I quickly aided to your arm.

"No stop!" I whispered, quickly putting on the blue plastic gloves from the box, pulling out silver shined tweezers. "It's glass." I got closer, inspecting it more as it poked out of your shoulder. "Take off the shirt."

You stared at me and laughed, shaking your head as you turned red. "Well if you want me that bad..."

I glared at you, trying to hold back a smile as I scooted closer to you on the bed, helping you take it off. "Wait no, we have to cut it. If you move your arm it'll push in further and you might have to go to the hospital."

"No." You said sternly, turning to all things serious. Clearing your throat to break the silence, you spoke once more. " I don't do hospitals."

"Fine, we'll just have to do it this way."
With that being said, I grabbed the black scissors from the very bottom of the box, bringing it up to the hem of your green shirt as I slowly cut up, ending right below your neck. Pulling off the spare pieces, there you were, finally bare chested on my bed.

I didn't speak, I just stared. Stared at it all. You were very fit, showing complete proof that you definitely worked out.

I shook my head after three minutes of just silence, quickly bring the gauze wipe up around your chest and shoulders, wiping it around to calm the inflation. "This might sting a little."

Immediately you cringed, making that noise that cans make when you open a can of soda, showing you were really in pain. "I-I'm sorry! I know... I know."

I really did feel bad for you. There was this soft spot for you in me and I only wanted you to be happy. Watching you cringe and burn isn't acceptable for me.

With a few more cringes and glass pulling and dabbing on the minor cuts on your face, I sealed you up with some bandages. Your eyes were still bruised and I couldn't do anything to fix that, but I wiped you up and you looked much better than before.

"What's the time?" You asked, standing up stretching your swollen arms.

"Three thirty exact." I read from my phone, following up with a yawn.

You yawned too.

"I guess I should get back, hopefully mom has calmed down by now. If not I'll just crash at a friends. Thanks, Dahlia, really."

Looking into your eyes, I sighed as a plopped down onto my bed. "Stay here."

You arched your eyebrow as your face turned to confusion. "What?"

Grabbing your arm, I pulled you onto the bed, watching you collapse next to me. A giggle escaped my lips and I smiled. "I want you stay here tonight. I don't want you to go back."

"Dahlia..."

"Oh please, Connor. I don't trust you going back there. It doesn't seem safe and I don't want you getting all beaten up again."

You scratched your head awkwardly, thinking about it. "...this doesn't sound like you. You're all 'I'm a girl and your a boy blah blah blah' ". You mocked, raising your voice to exaggerate mine.

"Hush up! Fine, leave then!"

You chuckled and tapped my nose. "For you, I'll stay."

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