The Death Of Me ✔️

nepenthe

Nepenthe
(n.) something that can make you forget
grief or suffering.

...

Chapter 40

————————

                  Adrian glanced at me briefly. "You're the first thing that came to my mind."

Butterflies erupted in my stomach as we held each other's gaze for a moment. Adrian looked away and payed attention to his shoulder. He did six stitches by now and it looked nearly done. The wound still looked pretty disgusting.

"You had a fight with your rivals?" I ask. "Vipers?"

"Yes. One and only."

I hug my legs. "Why? All of a sudden?"

"We were minding our business. We weren't expecting them there, of course. Teasing turned into a fight within seconds. Before I knew it, they had knives out."

I look down at my hands and smile to myself. "What? You don't believe me?" Adrian shot at me.

"I find it funny how you always try to look like a nice person. You wouldn't be here bleeding out in our guest bathroom if you didn't fight with them. Both parties were equally guilty." I tell him. Adrian looks at me with sheer amusement and surprise.

"You're kinda intelligent." He commented. Smiling, I rolled my eyes. Why the hell am I enjoying this conversation?

"Ah! Done! Can you believe this?"

"Wow. You just stitched your wound up in a bathroom with no help. This is surely going to infect and make you die." I look at his shoulder. It still looks dangerous.

"I'm going to dress it. It's not going to look so disgusting all the time."

"And you should have an actual doctor check it." I tell him but Adrian rolled his eyes. He looked so chilled with his shoulder cut open. Unbelievable.

"Are you not hurting?" I ask him. Adrian nods as he takes out more gauze from the kit box. "Some painkillers would be very helpful. Just let me finish with this mess."

"It doesn't look like you're hurting." I comment before standing up and running my hand through my soft robe.

"Hey? Ever heard of the word Nepenthe?" He asked me. "Of what?" I arch my brows.

Adrian smirked. "I need more rubbing alcohol. You have more?" I walk out of the bathroom to search for more alcohol pads. But, he was done dressing his wound, why would he need more? Walking across our living room, I looked at our doorway. Blood.

I halt. How am I supposed to clean that?

"I made a big mess, didn't I?" Adrian spoke from behind me. I jumped up in fright. He was standing in the middle of our living, shirtless and in his skinny jeans.

"Yeah, I don't know how to clean blood." I tell him. "Never had a situation like that."

"If you want I can have a friend come over and help you clean this. I feel like I'm coming down with something." He started to rub his bruised bicep. The fight must've been really nasty.