Summer Before Her (Completed)

25- Blood Splatters

Kirsten's POV

I sat at the table, chewing my soggy cold fries. Natalie sat on the opposite seat silently gathering her pasta in her spoon.

"Can I ask something, Kiri?" she asked.

"Sureeee" I responded, prompting her on with a smile. My eyes flitting towards the door, waiting for Novak to show up, he hadn't been there in biology.

"What was Novak asking a week ago? And where did the both of you disappear?" She blurted out in one breath.

Oh, she was present.

"Fred, he umm.. Hurt me" I mumbled it, it was still difficult to accept what happened wasn't my fault.

His crime and sin. Yes, His crime and sin, not my fault.

"Oh, I am sorry..." she said, trailing off.

She knew. Was I this transparent? Did Novak tell her? Should I conf—

"Kirstennn, Fred got into a fight" a brunette screeched, dashing to my table.

"Come onn, you have to see thisss" she said, dragging me off on my feet. Natalie followed behind me.

As we neared the school gates, all we could hear was one unified loud ringing, pulsating chant– FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

the brunette led the path through the crowd of bodies, pushing and showing elbows away.

As we neared the centre, my worst fears became true, the mop of chocolate-coloured hair flew around, the rest of my view obstructed by the shoulders of some hormone-driven teenager.

A few tugs and pushes, and then I was thrown into the centre of the ring of bodies and I momentarily froze watching Novak throwing punches left, right and centre as Fred shielded his bloody face.

"Don't" Novak said, accentuation his words with a sickening crack as his fist made contact with Fred's face.

"Touch" he said, a bit more fiercely, this time aiming for his jaw.

"Her" A solid left hook landed on Fred's jaw.

I couldn't move. My feet felt solidified in the cement, words choked in my throat as I watched Novak beat Fred's face into mush.

He made disgruntled sounds, failing at every effort to protect himself from Novak's precise bashing technique.

The crowd grew louder, chanting — FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM!

the more blood that flew around, the more crazed the look in Novak's eyes got, he breathed deeply, almost unconscious of the people surrounding him as he mercilessly showered him with punches and effortlessly blocking Fred's weak effort at the offence.

I had to stop this, There was so much blood. But How? I can't just jump into a fight, I would be pummelled to death.

Suddenly the crowd parted as people ran for cover, someone had unleashed the safety hose, effectively breaking apart the crowd and startling the fighting duo enough for Fred to crawl away.

Novak just stood there unaffected as the torrent of water washed away the blood, sweat and grime from his face and chest.

A prominent tear dressed the front of his shirt, bloody, bruised lips set in the place of his perfect ones, a bruise already forming on his chest.

He discarded his shirt as the water washed him off all traces of the incident, his hands moving through the locks of his hair as he stood there in soaked jeans. Was this out of a commercial? Is this a movie?

Five seconds later, the perceived slow motion hose down ended when the hose got misdirected and ended up soaking the other half of the crowd, including me.

Once I recovered from the assault on my senses, I found Novak's standing in front of me as he put an arm around me holding me close to him.

Taken aback, I tried to pull away but he held me still, not letting me budge as he leaned down and whispered into my ear "Wet T-shirt"

With his husky, chocolatey voice in my ear, it took me quite a few seconds to register what he meant and when I did realize, I was mortified.

My white t-shirt was now wet and transparent, not leaving much to the imagination.

In the next few seconds, a rapid reaction occurred in my body, causing my face to ignite and turn into a colour akin to that of a tomato.

He just stood opposite to me silently glowering at everyone behind my back as he held me an inch away from his naked, wet and sculpted torso.

I don't know when and how he communicated to whom but soon he was wrapping a short around my body that someone had handed over my back.

"Let's go," he said, a trail of blood trickling down from the side of his swollen, battered lips.

I walked along without question, to his motorcycle that stood next to my car. He wordlessly perched on it, eyeing me wryly.

He then asked with a pained expression masking his features "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I countered, buttoning up the shirt that was draped on my shoulders as I leaned back against my car.

In response he moved his leg around straddling his ride as his hands moved around his pockets, looking for his keys.

He turned the keys in the ignition, revving the engine before shutting it off, bringing the bike back on the stand.

He then folded his hand and rested his head on the front of his motorcycle and groaned something, which I could make nothing of as it was muffled by his arms.

"Nova" I called out softly.

"Can you drive me?" he asked, pleading.

"Sure" I responded, with no hesitation.

He climbed disembarked his death machine and tugged at the handle as I unlocked my car.

As soon as we were seated, he announced "I am not sorry for what happened, and yes, I am drunk if you were wondering why I can't drive"

With that declared he pulled out a flask from his other pocket, taking a swig and then dabbing the alcohol on a piece of tissue paper that he grabbed from my dashboard.

He then proceeded to clean his cuts off with it, unflinchingly. How many times has he done this? How high was his pain threshold, a thousand question danced in my head as I watched him scrub away.

"I don't mind the staring," he said, winking.

That remark was enough to make me shift my attention to my car. I pulled out of the parking space as I asked: "Where to?"

"My place" he answered.

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End of Chapter 25.

New landmark reached! Twenty-five bloody chapters done, sooooooo proud of me.

The ship name either Noven or Kinova? You decide.

Thank you so so much all of you for joining me in this journey and for alk the laughter and joy you leave in the comments. Thank you for reading my poorly produced work.

Until tomorrow
Elle