I laid him on the sofa in my flat. Honestly, he was heavier than he looked!
“His muscles aren’t a joke…”
It was a good thing that my apartment was a walking distance. I called my dad that I’d be staying at my flat and would not be able to visit them for some time since I was crammed in school. Thankfully he just laughed it off and told me not to worry. I ended the call and placed the phone back to its house and proceeded to the bathroom where I kept the first aid kit. But before I did, I looked back at the sofa to see the man still unconscious.
‘He looks so… peaceful…very contrary to his words and actions.’
I kneeled and took the kit under the faucet. I stood up again and left the room. But when I got back, I didn’t see him on the sofa. Then, I suddenly felt a sharp object by my throat and I froze.
‘Shit!’
How could I have been so careless?! I could have tied him up or something just in case. But no! I underestimated his strength since he is still able to move even in that condition. Stupid! Stupid me!
“Move and make a sound and I’ll make sure this is the last thing that you’ll ever see,” he threatened with demand.
I felt a vein pop in me. I’m the one who became kind-hearted enough as to treat his injuries despite knowing what he just did and he threatens me?
I turned around, much to his surprise, and glared as best as I could. “You? Threatening me? Ha! What a joke! You can’t even hurt a fly in your condition, dickhead so be a good boy and just sit back on the couch as I treat your wounds!”
I saw his eye twitch and was about to retort but I cut him off. “I brought you here and not to the cops so I could treat your injury despite knowing you just killed a man. Additionally, I had a lot of trouble bringing you here without anyone seeing you. So just do it!”
He glared at me and I felt a little scared. I can’t back down now. I mustered all the courage and strength that I have and grabbed his *ahem*muscular*ahem* arm. I heard him release colourful cussing words but I paid him no attention on that.
I took out some disinfectants first from the kit, a thin cloth and a big patch. He continued cursing everything he sees, including me. He sure knows a lot. Then, I started to cover the wound with the patch after cleaning it.
I told him to take off his suit and polo. He just raised a brow at me and I hit his shoulder, making him jump in pain,
“Don’t get any ideas. I need to bind the path on your wound so it wouldn’t get misplaced before you get it some medical attention,” I explained to him.
He looked convinced enough since he did as I told. He started to unbutton his suit first, then his polo next. It wasn’t soon enough that he was half-naked. I couldn’t help but blush. His body was toned and muscular, having the full six pack abs. But on his hot body, there were slashes and some dried blood.
I immediately went to the bathroom and took a small basin and a towel. I tried to wipe off some of the dried blood but felt him tense everytime the towel touches some fresh cuts. I sighed. I took the long cloth and wrapped the patch around his lower abdomen. Afterwards, I took some band-aids and placed them on some of the cuts.
“You knew I was dangerous, didn’t you? I had a gun yet you didn’t take it when I was unconscious and you even neither bound nor tied me. Are you stupid?” he said with more power and strength than earlier.
‘He must be regaining some of his energy.’
I just looked at him, “Yeah. I’m stupid and dumb enough to let you in my flat, not call the police, and by neither binding you nor tying you up. So excuse my idiocy.”
Finally, I was done. He started to button his polo but never bothered to wear the black suit again. I closed the kit, took the basin and stood up to return it back to where I took it.
And when I returned, I found no sign of him. It almost seemed like he was never even there on the first place. The only thing that proved that he had been there was a stain of blood on the towel that I used to wash some of the dried blood on his body.
“Honestly. Is this what I get for helping him? Not even a thank you?” I mumbled to myself.
People don’t know how to appreciate nice deeds anymore. Wait. That makes me sound old… Arg! I’m just 17 years old and here I am talking like some retired old geezer. Surprised of my vocabulary? Yah. I’m not this polite nice girl that everyone thinks of me. I bet mom and dad’s gonna have a heart attack when they find out about me. I think it’s just me being in my rebellious stage or something.
I decided to just fix everything up and clean the mess made. By the time I finished, it was already pass 10PM. I turned on the shower and looked at the bathroom mirror and looked at my reflection.
My wavy auburn hair had some dried blood on it and so do my hands and some parts of my clothes. It wasn’t mine, clearly. It was when I helped that weird unknown guy. I’m definitely a fool to help that guy.
I took off my clothes and stepped in the shower area. I mean, how much of an idiot can I get? I helped him and let him inside my flat. And now, he can kill me anytime he wants since he already knows where I freaking live.
“I need to change my address ASAP…”
