8 Chapter 8: (1/2)

〰 Khole 〰

It was several hours later that he returned with the softest knock ever, I almost thought I'd imagine it but thankfully he was standing there with some more food.

”C-Cade...” I mumble, noticing that he had a bruise above his eye and his lip was split. My heart hurt for the man, knowing he was hurt because of me when I opened the door more for him. ”Come in-n.” He seemed troubled at the thought of coming inside but came in still.

I closed the door quickly, locking it behind me when watching him place the two plates on the desk once again. He looked awkward standing there and I felt myself grow fl.u.s.tered.

This was weird...

I hurried to grab his knife before handing it back to with a small smile, hoping I'd get one in return.

”H-Here's your kn-knife.” I stutter, holding it out to him as he stared at for a moment before giving me a strained smile. He shook his head, making my fingers curl around the blade. The touch nearly made me sigh in pleasure but I remained silent and bite at my lower lip.

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He wants me to keep the knife, but why?

Does he think more mean people will return?

I watched as he opened his mouth like he was going to say something and I prayed he would. I've been thinking about how lovely his voice would be and if he would try to speak with me, but he closed his mouth looking aggravated.

”What is it-t?” I ask curiously, hoping to hear the silky voice I'd dreamt of.

He glanced around the room, reaching for the notepad and wincing when moving too fast making me realize he was more hurt than I thought. I stopped him for a moment being bold and steering him into the chair I've sat in at many times.

”St-stay. I will t-tend to your bruises.” I placed my hands on both of his shoulders, suddenly wis.h.i.+ng that his long sleeves s.h.i.+rt was off.

When I knew he'd remain sitting down, I hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a rag and a bowl. I filled the bowl with warm water from the sink before rummaging through the cabinets for some kind of bandaid or gauze.

Though I wasn't sure if he'd want some princess band-aids, that was all I had so he'd have to put up with it.

I walked back into the room, moving the plates of food and placing the heavy bowl beside him along with the box of princess band-aids. He was slumped against the chair, holding onto his stomach as if it hurt the most making me gnaw on my bottom lip.

Should I... Should I tell him to remove his s.h.i.+rt so I can see what is hurting him?

”C-Cade,” I mumble, making him open his dark eyes and stare at me with a tired look. ”I-Is it okay if-f I dress your injuries?” I ask him, not wanting to touch him with his permission which is strange because not even days ago I was frightened of all men and touches.

Not that I wasn't, but I wasn't afraid of his touches or him.

He protected me.

Cade pointed to the notepad as I scrambled to grab it and hand it back to him. I was curious about what he was writing since I asked a yes or no question.

He handed me back the notepad when I read his worries and smiled at him. He didn't want me feeling compelled to help him because of what happened earlier.

He's so sincere...

”I-I want to help,” I a.s.sure him, taking the soft rag and dipping it in the warm water and leaning forward to clean his face from dirt and spots of blood that I knew belonged to the man from earlier.

He closed his eyes, looking to enjoying this as I grew more confident and brushed his hair out of his face. I could tell that he liked it shorter but given everything happening, he probably hasn't been able to find the time to get a hair cut.

His hair was soft underneath my fingertips and I pushed it away from his face so I could brush the rag over the bruise he got. He flinched from the touch, his eyes clenching shut as I mumble an apology and rinsed the rag in the bowl.

I stared at him for a moment, the image of him hovering over the man implanted in my head but it doesn't mean that he scared me. I was more shocked that he defended me so vigorously.

No one has in my life.

I returned to dabbing the rag on his face, not wanting him to catch me staring at him. He remained still for me as I cleaned up to dirt and grime, hoping I was hurting my protector.

”C-Cade? Would you like m-me to clean the injury on your s-stomach?” I ask him, not stuttering nearly as much since I was growing a little more confident around him. Happy he was enjoying this as much as I was.

He opened his eyes, the darkness that was in them before gone and leaving the soft black color. I never thought that the color black would have another meaning other than darkness, but it so does.

The soft look he was giving me made my belly flutter while he grabbed the notepad and wrote down his thoughts. He handed me the notepad once I slipped the rag back into the bowl of dirty water.

So he didn't actually get hurt, just kicked in the stomach?