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H E R
"Carl?" My knuckles rapped quickly against the bathroom door, near panic evident in my voice. I had woken up late to find his side of the bed cold, the blankets tucked in close to me where he should have been.
"Yeah?" He responded with that lovely, husky voice, and I more or less bulldozed through the door, shoving it out of my way. The boy turned away from the mirror, rolling his broad shoulders as his bare upper half faced me. His hand was lifted, placed gently over a clean white bandage taped awkwardly over the bottom of his right rib cage, close to the bullet scar from his youth that never quite healed properly.
I went to him, reaching out to investigate only to have my touch intercepted by his own. He clasped my hands in both of his large, familiar ones. "Good morning to you."
"You're hurt?" I fretted.
"No, I'm fine." He insisted, tone gentle.
"What happened?" I pressed, knowing it couldn't be too detrimental if he simply covered it himself and was up walking around unscathed.
"Was whittling," He let me go to demonstrate, the lower hand holding an imaginary piece of wood and the upper holding an imaginary knife, pulling the top one in towards himself. "Forgot you're supposed to do it away from you." Letting out a dry chuckle, he shuffled passed me, leaving his dirty flannel and over shirt on the counter.
I followed after him to our room, totally rapt by his appearance of just the belted denim jeans and exposed skin. "I woke up late, you weren't here..." I bit my lip, feeling pitiful, but Carl wasn't one to judge.
"I am here." The boy pulled me into his warm chest, though he cringed a bit when I came into contact with his covered wound.
"Let me see it, it must be deep if you bandaged it. Denise taught me how to stitch..."
He waved me off again. "No, it's really fine. I just don't want to risk infection is all." He reassured.
I shifted on my socked feet, trying to get some of the worry off my chest and figuring it was easier to just confront him. "Hey," I paused, looking up at him with hard eyes. "I just wanted to let you know that I know."
His lone eye narrowed, his face going pale. "You know...?"
I nodded, letting idle disappointment cross my features. "Yeah, I wish you would have just told me. I would have understood; you don't have to hide things from me."
