Moira

32.

TW: Blood and mention of self-harm. Viewer discretion advised. 

Neither of the two thought it would've been a good idea for me to go home today. And while I agreed, I felt like my family and friends deserved the same courtesy.

Though, maybe it was better if they didn't know about any of this, oblivious to the facts that could get them in trouble later on.

It was bad enough that I was involved in any of it.

So, after Esmond made it clear that he didn't want to share what exactly happened after we left, I was wandering around their house a little aimlessly; both of the men tending towards their own chores in their own rooms.

Just like the first time I was here, my fingers absentmindedly traced along the pale green walls of the living room until my eyes fell on the little study in the neighbouring room; little bits and pieces of it revealed through the organically shaped holes in the walls between the two rooms.

I never paid much mind to the room, basically had forgotten all about it up until now. It was only when my eyes fell on a small bookshelf in the corner of it that I decided to slip through the door.

And for the rest of the day, I spent my time in said study, picking up multiple books — and closing most of them after the third paragraph — before ultimately finding one that piqued my interest enough to keep reading.

I'd switch back and forth between a raggedy looking petty book and a rather thick and old fiction novel whenever the other one didn't do it anymore.

I did this up until Arley was kind enough to bring me a plate of the food he had prepared, and I continued to do so after devouring it.

And time seemed to pass by quite quickly, to my delight.

—————

I opted for the couch that evening once more.

The three of us hardly exchanging any words before they disappeared back into their rooms, leaving me in the living room with nothing but a pillow, a blanket and an oversized shirt. I wasn't even quite sure whose it was until I shrugged it on; Esmond's citrusy scent immediately lingering in my nose.

Too much had happened today to even consider bringing that kiss up to him. Even if it hadn't, I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to bring it up in the first place.

My sleep was light that night, waking up every hour or so for absolutely no reason.

When it happened the third time, though, at around three in the morning, a sound coming from the kitchen kept me awake, ears perking up as I sat up straight.

I listened into the darkness for a few moments, the house so quiet for a while I thought it was just another figment of my imagination. But then I heard it again.

A muffled sob, the sound full of suppressed hurt and anger and guilt that tore through my soul without ever knowing what had caused it. A sound so full of emotion, it almost made me tear up myself as I practically jumped off the couch.

Bare feet cold against the floor, nothing but the dark shirt covering my body until above my knee, I followed the sound cautiously.

It led me to the kitchen, a dim light coming from the room as I stalked towards it. I snuck a single peek into the room, and that was all it took for me to almost fall into it with how fast I approached the figure standing by the sink — knocking over an empty glass in the process.

"What happened?" I asked in a hasty tone, a gasp escaping my lips as soon as I glanced into the sink Ellis was hunched over. Her eyes snapped up to mine in horror, though the blood gushing out of her left wrist was more of a concern than my presence, it seemed.

Her eyes were watery, dried tears staining her cheeks, and her long her held back by a messy, low ponytail as her head snapped back towards her arm.

She tried desperately for the bleeding to stop, staining multiple towels and papers around her in an attempt to keep herself from losing more blood. It didn't seem like she pressed hard enough, though.

My breath was heavy as I turned around my own axis twice, looking for a clean towel and finding it on the opposite side of the counter. I lunged forward to grab it, quickly by the girl's side again to carefully straighten her arm.

As soon as I applied pressure to the wound on her arm with the clean cloth, a pained hiss escaped her lips, quickly revealing the reason why her bleeding wouldn't stop from all her attempts.

She never managed to press hard enough, her own pain tolerance holding her back up until now that I was the one applying the pressure.

And though her face distorted in agony, almost, she didn't complain for even a second.

"What happened?" I asked once more, my voice calmer this time as I slowly noticed a decrease in the blood. Her eyes darted back over to me, still wide in shock though tears no longer escaping them.

She shook her head almost in shame, simply deciding she wouldn't answer my question. I left it at that.

Though, almost on cue, it was a much deeper voice coming from behind us that asked, "What the fuck happened?"

Esmond stood on his sister's left as soon as I registered the words, a tentative arm around her shoulder as he took in the mess before him with a concerned furrow in his brows.

His eyes darted from her wrist over to her and then onto me before he disappeared and came back less than a minute after;  A first-aid kit in hand, he slammed it onto the counter next to the sink; all without ever saying a single word.

He took over my holding of the cloth against her skin – applying pressure until he was absolutely sure the bleeding had stopped – and removed it.

My own hand simply moved up to her shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing circles around it.

I swallowed thickly as my eyes took in the cuts around her countdown. Parts of the skin peeled off while other parts were hardly identifiable due to the deep and thick cuts through it.

Esmond's eyes flickered over to her at the sight, her own eyes diverting in shame as soon as he did so. Neither of them said a word.

Very skilfully, Esmond went on to tend to her wound; cleaning the biggest one first before worrying about the smaller ones scattered around the same area. He cleaned them, applied an ointment, and went on to cover her entire wrist with a bandage — this time for a purpose outside of their own ideology.

The entire time, the concern in his eyes and displayed on his face wasn't lost on me. 

- 

Hi besties, this scene was one of the first ones I planned out before I even started writing moira jbhvfgd

THOUGHTS please