Luke watched her scramble around the quaint apartment. The living area was a mess, with loose papers scattered about the floor and books strewn carelessly into a diminutive pile near the edge of the small couch. He assumed she would be better organized and neat.
"I can handle myself," he finally said after Mariam emerged with a first aid kit.
"That's nice," she mumbled. Mariam blamed her lack of sleep for her sudden brazenness. She wouldn't have approached Luke and guided him to the kitchen table otherwise.
"Woke you up, huh?" Luke asked as she began to tend to his bloodied nose, gently wiping the sticky substance from his face. Mariam shrugged, intent on her task.
"Um... Why did she... Hit you?" She glanced at his bruised lips.
Luke hadn't flinched when she applied disinfectant to the cuts on his neck. At this point, Mariam couldn't discern anything that could hurt him.
Silence drawled out far longer than she anticipated and she assumed he deemed it as none of her concern. "My hoodie smelt girlish."
Mariam extracted her hands. "I-I'm sorry," she said softly. It was her laundry detergent. Perhaps it was a bit too feminine. "I didn't intend-"
"I'm not blaming you."
"I know that, but-"
She couldn't help but notice him absently rubbing the tattooed heart on his forearm. She glanced away, fiddling with her fingers.
Some things hurt worst than others.
"I'll go." Luke stood and Mariam didn't have the heart to stop him. She sighed and gathered up the mess. That night Luke didn't play his music and strangely enough it kept her up the remainder of the night.
"He's sensitive!" She whispered to herself as she squirmed on her bed to find a comfortable spot.
It explains how he was generous enough to lend her his hoodie, and stay outside with her when she locked herself out. He recently began playing the music she grew fond of as well.
"Luke is a good person," Mariam thought aloud as she drifted off to sleep with a small smile.
