Before Her

Jane 27

Jane
I sighed as I pulled the covers up to my chin. Shivering from the cold, but knowing that it would soon past. I rolled over to my side and stared at the door. Soon enough, the door opened, and tall silhouette stepped in, Newt. He didn't bother to turn on the light, leaving the room dark, with only a small sliver of moonlight that had weaselled its way through the blinds.
He stayed by the door. His back leaning against it. His hair was wet, droplets falling from the tips of his blonde hair. The droplets sparkled in the moonlight when he moved, sending little winks at me. I couldn't tell if his eyes were opened or closed.

He reached up and ran a hand through his hair before walking over with a sigh. Soon he was close enough for me to see his face. He stared at me, I stared at him.

~~~

Life in the glade was as hard as always, people filed in with cuts and bruises, and I was forever walking around screaming bloody murder repeatedly at the boys who never bother to clean up their stations. Most found me hilarious whenever I started to tell them off or grabbed the dirty bandages from their tables. They often teased me about it whenever I was around.

I sat at my usual station, pulling out several splinters off the chubby fingers of a builder. He had messy brown hair and a blush that crept up his cheeks since the moment I touched him. One by one, I pulled splinter after splinter, out of his fingers, cleaning and bandaging every finger before moving on. By the time I finished, my fingers were tired from pinching the tweezers, but they were no match for the pain in my eyes from squinting down at his pink fingers. He thanked me and I waved goodbye.

I reached down and grabbed the plastic bag at before grabbing the bloodied tissues and stuffing them in. I heard footsteps, which alerted me that another boy was coming over. Don't get me wrong I loved helping people, but these boys were unbelievable. I mean seriously, how many times does a guy get hurt in a day? I was pretty sure that I had seen a guy two times last week, showing me the same cuts he had had previously.

I looked up and was greeted by a pair of familiar warm brown eyes, Newt.
'Hey,' he smiles at me before cringing. I look to see he had placed his right arm on the table, palm facing up, showing me a wide gash on his forearm. I suck in a breath, as I watch blood trickle down his arm and immediately grab some tissues, pressing them down on his wounds.
'What happened?'
'Scraped it on some bricks... I think.'
I lift up the tissues to see the blood was still flowing, but not as much. I throw the tissues in the bin before, grabbing some clean ones and wiping off the remaining blood. I grab an amber coloured bottle from the first-aid kit — Andrew had told me to use it for cleaning wounds like this, I suspect that it's alcohol — and open the bottle before soaking a piece of cloth with it and carefully wiping at his wound. I look up to see him cringing a little.
'Sorry.'
I then take out antiseptic and wet it on a tissue before gently pressing it on top of his now, mostly clean wound. I grab a roll of bandages and gently roll the white coloured fabric around and around and around his arm until most of the skin from his elbow to his wrist was covered.
When I finished, I went into the back and pulled out the drawer filled with makeshift slings. I pulled one out and walked back to find Newt exactly where I left him.
'Can you stand?'
'My arm is wounded, Jane, not my leg,' he replies with a smirk.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as he stood up, carefully, I placed the wide part of sling under his arm, supporting it, before slipping the strap around his neck, which I had to stand on my tiptoes to do, and adjust the straps so that they matched his height.
'How long do I have to wear this?'
'At least a week.'
He let out a groan, I let out a laugh.
'Well, at least it's not your left arm.'
'I'm right handed.'
'And you still have your left arm.' I reply. He shoots me a glare, I smile back.

Dinner rolled by soon after that. I ate with the runners. Laughing and shouting as always. I gave my plate to Newt and Minho after a few bites since I wasn't hungry.

After dinner, Newt and I went up to grab a change of clothes before heading for the showers. I told Newt to shower first since he'd probably take more or possibly less time with his wounded arm. I carefully undid the sling for him, once again, standing on my tiptoes. He ducked into the shower and a few minutes later came out with a slightly wet arm. Once again, I raised myself on my tiptoes and he ducked his head to let me slip the strap over his head, I let out a sigh because my feet started to ache and tried to get the strap into its right length, I heard Newt let out a chuckle and I glared at him, which earns another chuckle. Finally, I finished, ducked under the shower head.

I sighed as I flung open the door, into the room, and plopped down on the bed, face down. I heard a chuckle and door click shut behind me and didn't bother looking up.
'Long day?'
'Long day.'
'I'd let you rest, but do I have to sleep with this thing? Because we both know it won't help at the rate I sleep at night.'
I sighed, thinking back to the many times I'd seen his thrashing during the middle of the night and wake up to see his arm in a new position almost everyday.
I dragged myself out of the bed, and made my way over to him, who was still standing by the door, and stood on my tiptoes, trying to undo the annoying strap. I puffed out my cheeks at another failed attempt and ignored the chuckle. Finally, I loosened it and slipped it off of his head.
'Thank you,' He said in a teasing voice as he let his hand drop. I looked up to see him staring at me, his eyes twinkling playfully.
'You're welcome.'

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