Chapter 10

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"Are you the one carrying me or is it the other way around?" Darson complains as we push through the hotel room. That's all he has been doing on our way here. Complain complain. Can you not walk like that? It confuses me. You're too close to me. You're making this more difficult than it is.

"Maybe you should carry yourself. That way no one is carrying anyone and problem solved." He gives me a disapproving look. His failure in giving his attention to his surroundings causes him to bump into a coffee table and a profanity leaves his lips.

"For some reason I thought you'd cover your ears and scold me." He grins at me and I shove him onto the sofa not so gently.

"What am I, a kid?"

"You sure do act like one." Breathe in and exhale.

"Then maybe you should be in a jail cell rather than a hotel room." I say before sauntering off towards the bathroom. They should have a first aid kit somewhere here. I open the cabinets to take a look and there it is. Grabbing it from the shelf, I make my way back into the living room where Darson is waiting. Damn. His knee looks a bit...not okay. It's now even more red than before with a hint of purple. A grimace takes shape onto my face. "Does that hurt?"

"No, I just faked a limp all the way here just so I can be close to you." The sarcasm in his voice makes me want to kick him where it will hurt and we all know where that currently is. But then that'll be like kicking him down when he's low. Literally.

I don't get it though. It is only a tiny scratch. Is he that easily bruised? "It's more serious than I thought it'll be. Maybe you should check a doctor."

"Just get me a pack of ice." He waves me off. Who does he think he is by ordering me around like that?

"Go get it yourself."

"Khara." He points to his knee and I roll my eyes. Then drag your way there. Don't you have proper manners? I eye him, unimpressed before setting off towards the kitchen.

"Next time you should fall on your face. Maybe that'll keep your mouth shut for a day." I mumble as I go.

"That's not the only thing that'll keep my mouth shut." He remarks. Still unimpressed.

"I'm dying to know." I holler with no enthusiasm. The patience I need to deal with this guy. Just who does he think he is to be ordering people around? I'm only complying because it was my idea to go cycling. I figure I should help him out before he pulls the 'I never wanted to go cycling. This is your fault' stunt. It's very likely of Darson to do this.

Grabbing an ice pack from the refrigerator, I take a deep breath then return to Darson. He is typing away on his phone. "I'll clean it first." Not even a glance in my direction. As soon as the antiseptic wipes make contact with his skin, his foot gives a little jump. I continue cleaning his wound entirely attentive on the task.

Laughter fills the room and my eyes immediately find a Darson who is grinning at his phone. He wouldn't stay still while enjoying his laughter so every time I proceed in applying the antiseptic cream, he moves. I'm starting to think it is on purpose. I hold onto his lower foot and press the gauze down onto his cut out of spite. His face morphs into a grimace as he glares at me, the smile dropping from his face. "Stay still or I'll pry it open." I warn.

"Quit being disgusting." He eyes me in distaste. I finally apply the antiseptic cream to his cut then place a band-aid on it.

"All done."

Darson sits up on the sofa to take a look at his knee. "What the hell is that?" He looks nothing less than appalled. What the hell is what? I search for the source that fuels the disgusted look on his face.

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