Passionate Exchange

Chapter Nineteen

The smell of alcohol on his breath makes my stomach turn. Does he get into fights every time he's intoxicated? Who stops him when he does? His words ring in my head, you shouldn't be here. Why shouldn't I be here? Is he embarrassed for me to see him like this? The endless questions make me dizzy. I squeeze my hands against my thighs and pluck up the courage to respond.

"You need me here, so I'm staying."

"I don't need you here." He grumbles, still staring at the wall. "I don't need you; I don't need anyone." His voice cracks as he says this, and I know it isn't true. He needs me as much as I need him.

"Are you okay?" I repeat.

"What do you think?"

I take in his state. His t-shirt has a scuff on the right shoulder, the fabric thinning ever so slightly. The blood is starting to dry up on his knuckles and turn a deep crimson red. It's his blood, his blood from his anger-fuelled punches. The gash on his left brow is barely visible as his dishevelled brown hair falls into his face, reaching just above his eyes. The boy in front of me looks broken, inside, and out. My heart aches for him.

"I think we need to do something about that gash on your eyebrow or it'll get infected."

He shrugs lazily. "I don't care." He sniffs slightly and wipes the back of his hand against his nose. There's no pain in his eyes like I expected. It's almost as if he feels nothing. That scares me even more than the pain would.

"Well, I do." These words feel foreign on my tongue. His eyes widen slightly in shock but not as much as mine do. I'm more surprised than he is. Those two little words slipped past my barriers effortlessly and yet it doesn't feel wrong to say them.

His confused eyes meet mine. "Why?"

The ache in my heart burns brighter. The raw emotion that he tries so hard to mask shines through causing tears to prick my eyes, but I push them away. I shouldn't be the one on the verge of tears.

"I don't know," I tell him the complete truth. "There's just something about you that I'm drawn to." I seal my lips shuts after that. I shouldn't be pouring my heart out to someone who won't remember it in the morning.

"Someone could have gotten hurt tonight, seriously hurt," I say to get the attention off of what I admitted. The burning of my cheeks cools slightly, and I swallow hard.

His jaw tenses as he tightens his fists by his sides. "He wouldn't have gotten the chance to land another hit on me."

"I know," his lips part as his eyes meet mine, "by someone I meant him."

If this were any other day, I wouldn't have told him that in fear of his ego strangling me. But, today, I don't think about that. Today I just tell him.

A knot grows in my stomach at the confidence that I have in him. It scares me. When I saw him at the party, I wasn't worried about the boy taking the majority of the blows. I was worried about him. I was worried about how he would feel if I didn't stop him. The regret would eat him alive.

"We need to do something about that cut." I swipe my fingertips against his brow gently. Your confidence grows when you're intoxicated. My confidence grows when I'm with him. I don't need alcohol to be confident, I just need him.

Our eyes connect once more, and I gulp. Only, I don't hold his gaze. I stare at my clasped hands on my lap, trying not to pick at the skin around my fingernails. He might make me confident but he sure as hell makes me nervous.

"You have a first-aid kit at your house, right? I did a first-aid course back in London so I should be able to clean it for you. It's a funny story actually, I didn't plan on doing the course. I tripped in front of the woman running it and scraped my knee. She took me to the nurse and waited around to see if I was okay. Of course, I was fine. She suggested that I come along to the class during lunch so if anything like that happens at home then I'll know what to do. So, I did. I learnt a lot. Like how you should put pressure on-" I stop rambling once I feel his eyes still on me.