★𑁍★
★𑁍★It's been about an hour after the teacher left and Emerson helped me put away my stuff in his office where we now sit.
I relax in his lap watching quietly as he worked on the last little bit of work he had. It all looked far too complicated for me to ever wish to do, if I were to ever have a job it would not be in the near future. Besides, I wouldn't even know where or how to start. But I bet Emerson would say it's okay like he's been saying the past week.
Maybe it is okay, but it's kinda been a repetitive thing that's been happening. Sure it makes me feel better, but if I had to be honest, it was kinda getting old.
Like, is it really okay?
Or are they just saying that.
I just don't understand.
I couldn't stop these horrid thoughts as they plagued my mind, feasting on my good mood. Only broken out of these thoughts when there's a tap on my stomach.
"Angel?" I look up at Emerson who stares down at me concerned. "Are you okay?"
I notice now that my hands have been digging into the other drawing small amounts of blood. I let go and rub at them making them burn. I nod putting my hands into my lap, staring down at them. Thinking bad things that down my mood even more.
"Let's go clean those, okay?" Shrugging, I nod, getting off his lap. Standing up and walking with him as he leads us to the kitchen.
He gives me a paper towel to hold onto the cuts, saying to put pressure on them to stop the bleeding, and then running the tap water, washing my hands underneath it when the bleeding has stopped. He pulls out a small bag filled with packets, boxes, and wraps. Next he cleans the wounds making me flinch and pull at his grip when he does, not liking the feeling at all. All of it still new to me. And lastly he wraps my hands with a bandage saying that it will keep me from picking at them, probably because I had picked at the bandage the last time he did this. But to be fair, having addressed my wounds before was something I've never done before. And it was still very weird to do, but seeing as it made the others happy, I tried to leave it as is.
Instead of holding my hand, Emerson picks me up and places me on his side as he holds me. "What do you say we go bug the others into playing outside today, we need to gather as much September weather as possible before it turns fall and gets colder out, don't you think?"
YOU ARE READING
Hope's home for boy's
FanfictionFear An 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕 emotion that causes someone to be 🄰🄵🅁🄰🄸🄳 of something or person as likely to be ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs, ᴘᴀɪɴғᴜʟ, or ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚎�...