Wronged

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A/N: I'm gonna start doing these "Question of the Day type things as shown in the photo above. Only they'll be called "Question of the Chapter." ^^

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- Anna's POV -

The only sound filling the room lying before me is the sound of rushing water coming from the bathroom to my right. I sit on Aiden's bed, absolutely silent, curled up into a tiny ball with my clothes slightly damp.

Another shiver comes over me, and I sniff. All I can do is stare off at the wall in front of me as I listen to Aiden tinker around inside of his bathroom, messing with the faucet and preparing towels and other materialized things.

It had started raining again about a quarter mile away from his apartment, and he tried to give me his jacket, but I wouldn't take it. He was already carrying me to help my leg. I didn't need his pity gift just because of the bad weather.

Other than that moment and from the time which he called out my name, we hadn't spoken. And for that, I am grateful. I appreciate him being quiet for me, to allow me to sit inside my own brain with my own thoughts as I try to process everything. Because dealing with his and mine would be horrendous.

Aiden reveals himself once he steps out of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair tiredly. I take note of the dark circles under his eyes and the way one strand of his hair is a shade darker than the rest of them. Curse me and my photographic memory.

I'll never forget any detail of his face now that I'm actually looking at him. I never lose detail of anyone's face, actually. I won't crawl into the depth of how it's an actual burden now, but I'm sure it'll haunt me later.

Again.

"Hey. I got it all set up in here," he says with a sigh.

I shiver once and then nod grimly. I wince when I try to move off of the bed, leg throbbing and screaming.

"Don't move," he says, voice full of authority when he notices me moving hurtfully. I do as he says even though I want to protest, the pain taking over my pride.

He walks over to me and once again manages to cautiously lift me up without harming my bone or muscle or ligament or whatever it is that was rolled and injured. He sets me down on the toilet seat in the bathroom as I take in the setting. It was cozy, just like the rest of his place.

I was expecting his home to either be run down or extremely modern and expensive like it is in those movies I was talking about. But it wasn't either of those things. It was just...Aiden's house. Cozy, enough for about two or three people, and kept clean and pine-scented. I liked that, which is rare coming from me.

"I'm fine now," I say, voice coming out raspier and more strained than anticipated. I'm still quiet though.

"I'm right out here if you need anything," He replies after a little moment of observing me, eyes seeming to take every piece of my face to memorize it. Like it would be different when I go back into the room.

I nod and he leaves, shutting the door behind him. He didn't ask me what happened. He didn't ask why I was crying or why I was sitting outside of a liquor store (which happened to be coincidental). But I know he will be. He's going to want to know. And we need to talk anyway.