My secret lives

Chapter 7

I swallow the medication dry and hope that the pain will subside soon.

"Does your foot hurt?" Asks Angelo from next to me.

I take a quick glance at his concerning face.

"A little" I mutter.

"What happened, it must hurt a lot if your limping" he states worry lacing his voice.

"I fell down the stairs yesterday" is all I say to respond to his question.

"Did you let it get checked out? Just to see if it's alright" he asks.

Going into doctor mode I guess.

"No" I say.

"Did you put some ice on it?" He then asks.

"No"

"Is it swollen?"

"Yeah"

"Can I check it out?"

"No"

"Please"

"Why?" I ask a little annoyed by this

It's really sweet but I don't trust him....yet. Well I'm not sure if I ever really will trust him but maybe..you never know.

"Because I want to make sure you're okay" he says the worry still very evident.

It's broken though.

I should actually get it looked at but it's not like I haven't had some broken before. It all healed after some time but it did get worse before it got better and there's a big chance it'll grow back in a wrong way.

But if they found out then they'd probably be wondering why I can even stand on it, even though it is possible to walk on a broken ankle in some cases.

If I don't let him show it then they'll probably wonder why and start asking more questions which could put hiding my past in danger, especially if the officers told them what they saw at the house and then there is also the chance that they'll get some doctor to check up on the rest of my body for if I would be hiding my ankle what else could I be.

So I decide to show my ankle to him, not wanting to risk any of it.

"Fine" I mutter but I stay seated.

If he so badly wants to check my ankle then he can go down on his knees to check up on it, no need for me to move.

As if he could read my mind, he goes to sit down on the ground before gently lifting my leg.

He places it on his lap and starts taking my shoe off.

Bruh I'm so lucky I don't have smelly feet right now.

He takes my sock of too- the sock I've been wearing for years but have been washing daily.

He got me some clothes when I was living with him and stuff but when he died, I didn't take any of it back with me.