"What are you doing here?"
I smile at Owen nervously, holding the side of my neck where Charlie bit me. I walk into his bungalow, slipping through the door under his arm that holds the door open. I take a seat on his bed, wincing at the pain on my neck. I hope it's not that deep.
Owen walks over to me, and his eyes widen when they land on me, shuffled over to me before he pulls my hand away by the wrist. He looks at my wound then my face. I just smile at him.
"Surprise...?" I squeak out. He growls and walks over to his kitchen and got out a first aid kit from the cabinet. He takes a seat next to me, and without warning, he puts something onto my neck. I jumped and was about to move away from him, but he keeps me in place with his other hand on my shoulder.
"What the hell is this?" I ask him between hisses. He looks at me, and his eyes soften for a moment before he pays attention to my wound again.
"I'm applying an occlusive dressing."
I blink at him, wondering what he means. I don't know any medical treatment other than licking it so that it won't have an infection and put alcohol to neutralize it before putting something else on top of the wound.
"And then I place a dressing over the occlusive dressing."
After that, he applies pressure to my wound. I yelp into my hand in pain, trying to muffle the sound so that it won't disturb Owen while doing his thing. This thing stings, and I can't stand it. I look at Owen with watery eyes, pleading him to stop it.
"I can't stop now; you need to get this wound healed up. That's what you came here for, right?"
Well, he's not wrong about me wanting his help to heal this wound, but I thought it would be less painful than it is now!
"I'll be done before you know it." I sigh into my hand, letting a tear fall from my eyes. I can't stand the pain, and I try to avoid getting wounds from anywhere.
Soon, the bleeding stops, and Owen bandages my neck. When he finishes, I run my fingers on the wound that's covered by the bandage gently, feeling the texture under my fingertips.
"What happened? How did you get that wound?"
"I had a small fight with Charlie."
"About what?"
"If we should've eaten you or not," I say, looking away from him. I feel guilty for wanting to eat him after all the things he has done for us; I can't face him.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I look back at Owen. He's smiling at me. Why is he smiling?
"Thank you for not eating me back then."
I just nod at him, looking at that curved up lips of his—they kind of look welcoming. I blush at the thought of kissing him, clearing my throat to get that image out of my head.
"It was nothing. I was just doing my job."
"Your job? As what, my savior?"
He chuckles at his joke, and I join him. The chuckles died down not long after, both of us sitting in the silence upon us. This is quite awkward.
"Hey, uh, Owen?"
"Yes?"
"Is it okay if I stay for tonight?" I mutter, fiddling with my fingers. I can feel his eyes bore onto me, and I look up at him, meeting with his eyes.
"What did you say?" he asks. I suck up all the courage I have, letting out a breath slowly to calm myself.
"Is it okay if I stay for tonight?" I ask him again. He looks elsewhere, holding his chin as if he's thinking.
"I don't know, can you?"
I punch him by the shoulder playfully. He laughs, rubbing the spot where I hit him before he smiles at me.
"Yeah, you can stay for tonight." My eyes brighten at his words, and I bow my head slightly in gratitude. He patted my head when I bowed.
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
"Yeah yeah," he says, waving his arm in front of me with that smile still plastered on his face.
I lay down on his bed near the wall, him slipping under the covers next to me. I face my back to him, giving a little distance between us, so it doesn't feel weird. Sleeping with a man is funny enough.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Owen."
I close my eyes, slumber taking me in welcomingly. It's been quite a tiresome day, and sleep is all I need at the moment.
NEXT DAY
I shift in my sleep and turn to the left side, cracking an eye open. The sun shines through a window, lighting the place up. I sit up on the bed, scratching my eyes to get the sleep off of me.
"Morning, sunshine."
"Don't call me that," I say. I walk over to Owen with half-lidded eyes, still tired. He scoffed at my answer and kept cooking.
"What are you making?"
"Bacon and eggs, the usual."
I nod at him and take a seat on the chair behind him, slumping on it while looking up at the ceiling. The smell of the food slides into my nostril, and I like it; it smells better than raw meat.
"Here you go."
I look at him and take the food that he's holding in front of me, thanking him. I take a bite out of the egg; the taste burst onto my tongue. It's greasy and salty but good.
I chow down onto the rest of the food that's on the plate, licking my lips when I finish. I stand up and put the dirty dish onto the sink.
"You got a little something." I look at Owen when he said that and wipes something on the edge of my lips using his thumb. It's a small piece of the egg.
"Sorry, I still need to get used to eating with manners."
He chuckles and finishes his meal, walks out of the bungalow right after. I follow him and stand on the door frame, watching him get ready to do something to his motorcycle.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm fixing my bike, want to help?"
"No, I'm good. I can't fix things."
He shrugs it off and starts to fix his motorcycle, his hands getting dirty with every moment that passes.
