Battered and Bruised

I need your hug

I feel somebody wrap his arm around my shoulder and the other on the back of my knee. The cinnamon scent fills my nose as he walks toward wherever-he-was-going. I open my eyes feeling the sun rays hit my face. I look up and see Jaxon's face above mine.

He has strong jaws, I might cut my fingers if I touch his jaws. His dark brown hair looks so smooth, I wanna caress it. And he has broad chest. He's so handsome. I didn't realize it until now. He's the most handsome boy I've ever seen.

He brings his gaze down and looks at me. "You're up." He says as he opens the door. He brings us inside the house then closes the door behind us.

"Can you put me down?" I feel embarrassed by him carrying me from his car to his house. I bow my head down, let my hair hide my face.

He puts me down and we fall into an awkward silence. He lifts his hand to put my hair behind my ear, I turn my head aside and find him already staring at me. We look at each other's eyes for a while,

He clears his throat then says, "Let's go upstairs." I nod my head then follow him.

I'm amazed by the sight of his house. Not house, I mean mansion. It was made of thick, black stone, which was covered in silvery dew. The old, tarnished porch was made of darkly-painted wood, and an ancient rocking chair was displayed by the doorway. I took a step closer and took in the essence of the house, with its soft willow trees and a tiny lake. The glass windows that were on the bottom floor, level with my eye, had noticeable fingerprints on them and long scratches. The windowpanes and shutters were decayed and chipping away, blowing like dust in the wind, never to be seen again.

How can they have such a beautiful and magnificent house? How much money do they have?

He takes my wrist and pulled me to follow him upstairs. We walked through the hallway and I can see a couple of statues laid on next by the doors.

I point a statue and say to him, "This one looks scary."

He's slowing down and turns his head to see the statue I'm pointing at. "My dad loves to collect statues. I think that one is from Romania. My brother always terrified of it." He chuckles as he says that.

I bring my head to face him and see his beautiful smile. He has crinkles by his eyes when he smiles. I love that smile. "You have a brother?" he mentioned his brother and I'm curious about it.

We stop in front of a black door I guess his bedroom. He opens the door and my eyes were pleased by the sight of his room. He has a king bed in the middle of the room with a black rug underneath of it, giant windows showing the city view with black curtain covers half of the windows and big gold chandelier. Across his bed, there's a TV with its stand and some devices on it complete with sofas around it. His room is so neat and clean compared to mine, but I'm guessing he's not a type of person who likes to clean and tidying his room himself.

I chuckle because of my own thought. It made him turned his body to me and raised his eyebrows expressing his confusion, "What?" he grins.

"Nope," I reply.

"Weirdo." He walks deeper into his room and leads me to sit on the side of his bed. "Wait here, I'll get the aid kit.

"Okay." I give him a nod then continue roaming his room with my eyes. His room is so big, maybe half the size of my house.

After I waited for a while, he comes back with an aid kit in his hand. He kneels in front of me and takes my hind in his. He wipes my cuts with the sterile pad then put a bandage on it. He treats me well. And he treated me first even though he has wounds here and there. I feel the tears fill my eyes as the thoughts of him treated my cuts and that I have a person who cares about me and that he would clean my cuts without feel disgusted by me. I wipe my tears away then thank him.