Desultory

chapter 4.

JUST SAY THE WORD, WE'LL TAKE ON THE WORLD
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Seven and I were watching a movie at my apartment when someone had knocked on the door. Seven had rushed to open it and let out a yelp of surprise. I pause the movie and turn around to see that it was Archer at the door. He walked in holding his nose and I realised belatedly that he had bruises and cuts all over his face, a black eye was quickly forming and I stared at him with an opened mouth. Seven trailed behind, unsure of what to do. A few seconds passed in charged silence before Seven was suddenly moving forward, pushing Archer onto the couch beside me, she walks quickly to the small kitchen. I close my laptop and put it on the table in front of me.

"What the hell happened?" I ask Archer, who now has his hands folded in his lap. He remains silent. Taking his chin in my hand I turn his face towards me. It looks bad, a thousand thoughts run through my mind. I want to interrogate him, how and why and when. I wonder who did this to him. I can't help but be worried, even though I've only known Archer for 3 days, he is one of my only two friends here, and I've always made it a point to have my friends' backs, no matter what kind of people they were. It actually pained me to see him like this and as I study his face, I just want to make the pain he's feeling right now disappear.

Seven comes back with some ice wrapped in a towel and hands it to me. I slowly start applying it to Archer's face.

"Where's your first aid kit?"

"Don't have one, ask the neighbour," I reply without turning back to look at her. She huffs and walks out to do just that.

"Archer," I make my voice sound soft and coaxing so that he feels relaxed, but his muscles are still taut. A frown is etched between his brows and I just want to smooth it away but I continue applying the ice to his cheekbone.

"Are you going home tonight? You can stay over tonight, I really wouldn't mind." I offer. He winces as I press the ice against a particularly nasty bruise. Even though his face is covered in cuts and bruises, he still is extremely good looking. He nods, somehow I get that he doesn't want to go home looking like this.

I put down the now soggy towel on the coffee table as Seven walks back in holding a first-aid kit. Her expression is stormy and I honestly feel left out because I know without either of them saying anything to me that Seven knows just who Archer just fought with and exactly why, and she definitely does not seem too happy about it.

Seven holds out the kit towards me and I take it from her.

"Why don't you go and make tea for all of us, or something," I find myself saying lamely when I notice the tension between the two. This was obviously a touchy topic for both of them. I could never imagine Seven and Archer, of all people, to be fighting for such a petty reason. I look at Archer and I find that he's already looking at me with amused eyes. I don't understand how he can get trashed and still manage to find me telling Seven to make tea amusing. If it were any other person, they would be groaning in pain or shaking with rage.

Shaking my head sternly, I start treating his wounds. Years of living with my father and getting beaten up by him made treating his wounds really quick. Archer sat quietly the whole time, his eyes dancing with mirth. He never asked how I managed to fix him up in a matter of minutes. I could tell he was curious but before he could ask anything about it, Seven stalked out of the kitchen balancing two mugs in her hands. Setting them down not gently at all, she announced that she was leaving and that the both of us were still expected to escort her to the party.

Archer and I decide to order a pizza and he insists on paying for it as payment for letting him stay the night, I don't have the heart to say no because he seems so eager to pay me back. In truth, he doesn't need to. I don't mind him staying over if he doesn't want to go home like this. When the pizza arrives I go to take some plates from the kitchen. I haven't spent much time with Archer since the day he brought me shopping and our previous conversation comes to mind. When I walk back into the kitchen I see that he's already started helping himself to the pizza, straight from the box. He looks up with a slice of pizza in his mouth and his eyes fall on the plates in my hand. Sighing, I put them back in the kitchen. We sit together in silence and it slowly gets awkward. I can tell the both of us have something to say but neither of us is able to open our mouths and actually say it. I lean forward and look at him. He seems to be avoiding my eyes but I still go for it.