Capturing Flight [Riren/Ereri] ✔️

Chapter 2

By the time I finally reached my apartment building I was exhausted, the brat was still unconscious in my arms and I was starting to get worried by the amount of blood coating my hand. So I hurried over to the door, struggling to hold the boy in one arm and my keys with my other hand as I pushed into and twisted them in the lock. And upon entering, with what little strength I had left, I slammed the door behind me, quickly laying a towel out on the sofa and setting him down on top before I could run out of steam and drop him.

I checked him over once again to make sure he was still alive but quickly relaxed when I heard him breathing and felt a steady pulse in his wrist. Making my way to the kitchen, I pulled a first aid kit out of a cupboard before heading back to the brat, who was sleeping almost soundly on the sofa apart from the occasional groan which was barely audible over the distant wail of sirens and the nearby chatter of pedestrians passing by.

I hadn't realised I'd left the window open this morning, though it was quite comforting now as a warm spring breeze pushed its way through the room, igniting my senses with smells of cherry blossom that dusted the pavement of the streets.

Looking back towards the kid I couldn't help but wonder what on earth had happened to him to have landed him in such a state, hiding in an alleyway and completely terrified of strangers.

Though sighing and shaking the thoughts from my head I set the first aid kit down on the coffee table, shortly after taking a seat next to it and mere inches from the kid on the sofa. And for the first time, I looked at him, really looked at him, and I realised I was right - he was just a kid. Maybe he could pass for eighteen but there was no way he was any older.

I ran my hand through my hair before leaning forwards, taking a pair of scissors and cutting the ruined shirt off of him so I could get a better look at the wound. Gently, I brushed my fingers past it examining it once again and confirming what I had previously thought; It was quite a shallow cut and definitely didn't hit anything important, he would just need a few stitches.

So carefully I rolled him onto his side where I could get the best access, before going back to the first aid kit, pulling out some antiseptic wipes and getting ready to start cleaning the wound. He flinched slightly when I first placed the wipe on his skin but stayed asleep throughout the process. I honestly don't know if I could have dealt with a crying brat right now but I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

Once I deemed that the cut was clean I moved onto the actual stitches. Thankfully the needle easily threaded and it didn't take long before I was swiftly pulling the skin back together, a little more with every stitch until the wound was fully sealed and I was tying it off at the end.

I stood for a moment to admire my handiwork, years of having to do these things in the military apparently having come to good use. But there was still bandaging to do, I couldn't risk leaving the stitches out in the open, it could get caught on something and tear. So swiftly I pulled out a small roll of white bandaging and began to wrap it around his waist, accordingly sealing it off from the rest of the world.

And now, it was just a waiting game, he'd have to wake up sooner or later and as long as nothing got infected he'd be absolutely fine and moving around within a day. I spared him one more glance before turning back to the kitchen.

I had gone shopping yesterday so the fridge was packed to the brim, my only concern now was what to make. What would the brat actually want to eat? He looked in decent shape so there's no way he'd been starved and therefore is unlikely he was homeless. Although that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Either way, I doubted he was picky but better safe than sorry. With that in mind, I pulled out a pack of spaghetti along with a tomato sauce and began to heat some water in a pan.

I heard a soft groan and looked up to see the boy stir a little before settling back down into the sofa - I guessed maybe he was cold, after all, he wasn't wearing a shirt. I quickly emptied the contents of the spaghetti packet into the now boiling water and decided to leave it to cook as I went on the hunt for a blanket I could give the kid. It would have to be one I'm not terribly fond of, after all, once it had had his bodily fluids all over it, it would have to be disposed of.

But eventually, after sifting through a few boxes I headed back towards the sofa, carefully laying the quilt I had found over his bare torso before heading back over to the kitchen unit, where lunch was almost ready. All that was left was for him to wake up.