Stained

Chapter 39

He runs a rough hand through his hair then stares at me for a long moment. Is he debating going through with what he said?

After what feels like an eternity, he wordlessly nods his head yes. I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding and walk-run out of there before he can change his mind.

I move to get into his bed but halt when I remember I said I would sleep on the ground.

I grab a pillow and place it on the ground. Then I look around for a blanket but don't see one. It would be an invasion of privacy if I went through his cupboards to find one so I settle on sleeping without it. The floor is heated anyways.

However, I fail to fall asleep. But not because of the solid ground, but because of my mind, it won't stop running, overthinking, feeling emotions I shouldn't be experiencing. They rush through me like the blood in my veins.

The sound of the door creaking open echoes off the walls. I squeeze my eyes shut, feign sleep in case he tries to make me go to the hospital.

I feel and hear him kneel on the ground next to me. He lightly grabs my arm and places something freezing cold onto my injured wrist.

I flinch and my eyes snap open. He's placed an ice pack on my wrist.

My eyes fly up to his and I see him blanch slightly. "Did I wake you?"

I shake my head no. "I was just about to fall asleep."

"Keep that on it," he demands gesturing to the ice pack.

"Thank you," I mumble, holding it against my wrist.

He stands up and eyes the length of me. I'm laying on my left side, facing him.

"Do you want a blanket?" He asks, assessing my bare legs which are awkwardly tangled together.

"Yes please," I accidentally respond too eagerly.

Luckily he doesn't call me out on it — nods his head once and turns to the wardrobe and pulls out a grey blanket. As he approaches me, he unfolds the blanket but once he moves to drape it across me something seems to stop him and he awkwardly holds it out for me.

"Thanks." Acting like I didn't just see him question the move, I grab the blanket and drape it across me. I give him a small grateful smile in an attempt to suppress the hurt I'm trying my best to conceal. Why didn't he put it on me?

No scratch that, why am I upset he didn't put it on me? I'm perfectly capable of putting it on myself. This is obviously a dumb thing to say because it's not rocket science. However, I wish he would have.

Ugh, stop. I mentally slap myself. I'm being stupid.

"I'm going to have a shower," Damien says.

"Okay." I incline my head and close my eyes, unknowing of what else to do in the suddenly awkward atmosphere. Or maybe I'm the only one feeling it? Or am I just overthinking again?

I hear Damien rummage through the cupboard before he enters the bathroom. I wait for the sound of the door to lock but it never comes.

'Duh, he usually lives alone.'

Oh right.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM ⚠️

I have to force every cell in my body to lay still and not go out looking for a knife.

'But he's in the bathroom now, it's the perfect chance.'