Storm

Chapter 4: Supper

  "Are you okay?" he asked, obviously confused. 

 I took a deep breath as I backed up from Briar. He watched me, worried. I tossed him the clothes then turned on the ball of my foot and walked back to the kitchen in a daze. 

 I tried to collect my thoughts when I got in the kitchen, staring down at my worn down stove top as I stood by it. Brief flashes of memories colored my mind, like an old movie, just flickering images on a black screen. A dark room, a polished shotgun, a stranger in a mask... These were the frequent characters of my nightmares, the things I constantly tried to repress and hide from even myself.

 I finally snapped out of my trance and opened my eyes, though I don't remember ever closing them. I yelped as a sharp, stabbing pain lit up all the nerves in my hand and wrist. I jerked my hand off the hot burner and cradled my throbbing hand to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the tears. I stumbled over to the sink and grabbed a dish towel with my good hand and wadded it up, shoving it in my mouth. I turned on the cold water, then stuck my burnt hand under the stream. I screamed, but it came out muffled due to the cloth in my mouth. I looked away, hoping that would help keep my mind off the pain, along with biting on the towel as hard as I could. I must've reached out to stable myself when I started having flashbacks... 

 "Hey, what's wrong? I heard you scream," I heard from the doorway. 

 I jumped and accidentally let the towel fall from my mouth. I turned to see Briar leaning in the doorway wearing the jeans and shirt I gave him. 

 "Yea, I just burnt myself," I responded quietly.

 I opened the cabinet door, pulling out a small first-aid kit my mom always kept. Using my good hand, I pulled out burn cream, gauze, and a medical wrap. I laid them out on the counter beside the sink, grabbing the towel that had fallen out  of my mouth. I braced myself mentally, pulling my hand out of the water. I received a lash of pain from the air hitting the raw skin. I tenderly dried my hand, tears pricking my eyes. When I reached for the cream, my hand met another hand that wasn't mine. I looked up to see Briar watching me. 

  "I can do it for you," he said, picking up the cream.

  My only response was to hold out my shiny red hand and wrist.

 I watched as he carefully spread the cream on the burn, then wrapped it in gauze, then the medical wrap. When he was finished, I pulled my hand back.

  "Thank you," I practically whispered, looking back to the stove to take the food off, "The bathroom is the third door on the left if you want to take a quick shower," I said quietly, setting the pots on the counter to cool. 

 I looked at him, realizing that he was watching me. After a moment, he nodded and turned, disappearing into the hallway.

 I sighed quietly, pulling my pony tail holder out of my hair, slipping it on to my good wrist. I turned off the stove, making sure the pots were far enough back so they could't be knocked off. 

 I went into the hall and turned into the first opening which led into my living room. I switched the lights on, smiling at the sight. Lucky was curled up on the rug in front of the cold fire place, watching me as I walked in. 

 "Hungry?" I asked, getting a tail wag in return. 

He stood up and padded over to me, giving me a look. I smiled, walking back to the kitchen. I grabbed two metal bowls and a bag of dog food that I usually kept in case I found strays. I filled one bowl with food and the other with water from the sink. 

 Lucky was lapping up water happily when I went back into the hall and into my room. 

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20 minutes later, I was fixing our plates, now in a worn out pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt with a blue hoodie, my hair falling around my shoulders down to my hips. 

 I heard the water in the bathroom shut off, so I set the plates in the microwave and turned it on to keep the food warm. I looked down at my bare feet on the cold tile floor. How am I going to explain everything? Hell, anything? What if he leaves too?

 Thoughts like this occupied my mind. 

 "Something smells good."

 I jumped, spinning around to face the  hall. There stood Briar, grinning from ear to ear. 

  "Jumpy?" He teased, obviously trying to lighten the mood. 

  "You could say that," I mumbled, weakly smiling at him. 

 I got our plats out of the microwave, handing him his. He gave me a kind smile, following me into the living room. We both sat on opposite sides of the couch, facing each other. We both ate in silence for about 10 minutes before he broke the quiet.

  "So... why do you live alone?" 

 Here we go....