One With My Rival

chapter twelve

A numbing pain washes over me.

In my years of being in this line of work and someone who relatively gets hurt a lot, this is both a good thing and a bad thing.

Good because it numbs and washes away all the pain you should be feeling which makes things a lot easier.

Bad because it brings you to the edge of consciousness. 

It feels like we've been driving for hours before the car finally stops. I don't even have enough willpower left to open my eyes when the vehicle comes to a halt. All of whatever energy I had left was focused on breathing and staying absolutely still.

"Come on" I managed to hear Lucas say and I feel him grab my arm to pull me out of the car and without hesitation, moves to carry me to god knows where.

This is bad, not only for my safety but also for my reputation.

Being carried by my fucking nemesis.

I won't be able to live this down.

Sadly though, I don't have enough braincells and blood left to ponder about that anymore. So I lay there like dead weight in his arms as he carries me to wherever he may damn pleases. I feel him put me down on somewhere soft and warm a moment later.

A bed. My mind suffices

It's fine.

I can do this. I just have to live through this and kill everyone who witnesses this.

It's fine.

"We need to take off your dress"

Suddenly it's not.

I twist my body to the side, muttering various sounds of protest.

There is no way in hell am I going to let them see all the scars and bruises and let alone, touch me when I'm at the edge of consciousness, not even if some wounds probably need stitches.

"Hey, hey" I hear Lucas call out placing a hand on my shoulder to get me to stop squirming. I flinched hard at the contact, shoulders hitching up as an attempt to protect myself.

I hate this.

I hate how vulnerable I am right now and how there are people seeing me like this.

I hate the way my body's curling itself up to make myself smaller as if that would protect me from whatever danger or pain that's about to come.

I hate the small whimper, the choked up sound of panic I made over something as small as a hand touching my shoulder.

As if sensing my distress, Lucas removes his hand which yet again surprises me. Mostly because I never expectedly him to do that.

To do any of this.

"Hey I'm the only one here and there's only a candle light in the room so I won't see much" I curl myself tighter despite the aching pain on my leg.

"I just need to see the bruises"

"It's fine" I stutter out with a bit of difficulty.

"You know it's not" He sighs and I'm only making up a vague realisation over how soft and gentle his voice is right now despite the lingering annoyance. I have never heard him speak like that before.

At least to me.

I stayed quiet for awhile, contemplating whether or not this is worth it and whether or not I should just let myself bleed to death since my pride's already been shot way too many times.