The Narcissist

Chapter 10 - DON'T SWEAT IT

My foot still aches when Rhett put me down gently on the bench. He kneeled in front of me and put my left foot on his lap.

"Ow!! Gently please." I winced.

He held my foot cautiously this time. "Sorry." He whispered. "Did it hurt?" He asked.

"Yeah. Please don't massage it!! It hurts so much!" I cried as he began to stretch it. He abruptly stopped what he was doing and raised both his hand.

"If you say so, but we need to atleast go to the clinic and have it examined. I think you've sprained it." He suggested.

"You have to rest, don't put pressure or weight on your left foot, apply ice on your ankle, they would probably compress it by wrapping it up with a bandage, and you may also need to elevate it to decrease its swelling." Rhett enumerated.

I stared at him in amazement. "Are you a medical student?" I asked.

He just laughed it off. It was my first time seeing him laugh like that. His white teeth showing as his adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He has this laugh that would exceed any commercials with hot guys laughing. His eyes crinkled as he readjusted his glasses.

Woah! I've never been so starstruck my entire life, it's usually the other way around.

I literally wanna watch him laugh the whole day.

In slo-mo.

He cleared his throat as he noticed I was staring at him too much. "Let's go? I could carry you to the clinic."

I hesitated for a moment, "Are you sure? It's quite far from here. And besides, aren't you tired yet?"

He just scoffed at my reply, as if I've just insulted his manliness. "Come on." He again lifted me and started walking.

We're causing a commotion, but we both didn't mind them. Even when they started taking our picture through their phone.

I tried to make myself lighter but I don't see how I can do that. Shyly, I snaked my arms across his neck.

He seemed to be taken aback by my action. "Is this alright?" I inquired. I almost giggled when I saw him flush, and sweat formed over his forehead almost instantly. He look ahead before he nodded.

I decided to push my luck, "Am I too heavy for you?" I pretended to pout. He seemed confused by my question.

"Not even close. Why?" He asked back. That's when I wipe away the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead using my bare hand.

"Because you started sweating bullets, mister." I smiled sweetly, then I naughtily wipe my hands on his shirt.

Hard-rock chest. Check.

"When did it get so hot here?! Phew." He suddenly said.

I couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Since you carried a hottie." I winked at him. Lamest joke ever.

He managed to chuckle at my failed attempt to be a comedienne. "Good one." He praised, rewarding me a genuine smile.

"Rhett?"

"Hmm?" He looked down at me.

"Thank you for always coming to my rescue. You know you're my hero, right?" I sighed, leaning my head to the crook of his shoulder and neck.

"Hardly. It seems disaster follows you when I'm around." He countered.

I wanted to protest in disagreement, but we arrived in the clinic at that point.

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