German Boy

Chapter 6: Bruise

After learning another set of information about him, I smiled and stayed there. For me, watching him read was enough to make me happy. But what else makes kids happy?

Playtime.

And that was what I thought of.

"Can we play just one game?" I asked him.

Even if he was busy and concentrated on what he was reading, he managed to answer. "No." Emotionless again.

"Why not? The weather today is perfect for playing! Let's play!" I energetically said.

"I don't want to," he replied with no emotion.

"And why?" His eyes were still focused on the book. The letters and drawings on it were reflected in his eyes.

"I just don't, there ain't no other reason."

"Everything has a reason,"

"But this doesn't,"

"Grumpy," I couldn't help it anymore even if I had a crush on him. I rolled my eyes.

Little did I know, out of all the things I did, it was the one to make him put the book down, look at me, frown, and pay attention. "What did you just call me?" Wow.

After talking to me like trash, he was concerned all of a sudden.

"Grumpy," I repeated. But that time, I was the one being grumpy when he asked so. Only because he made me get into that stupid mood.

"I'm not grumpy." He shook his head seriously.

"Yes, you are. Stop complaining about it." I crossed my arms and then leaned on the wall.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"How can you say so? Do you have proof?"

"I've been trying so hard to make you play with me but you never did. You've also been rude yesterday when you made me go away saying you didn't want me to be with you at the beach." I stated.

"That was only because you are a stranger."

"Correction, I am your neighbor."

"But you're still a stranger."

"Nah, you're just grumpy." I gave up on him. I realized he was the way he was already. So I stood up and took three steps forward but then I heard him call my name for the first time. "Jaraiah!" It had this German accent that made me shiver.

It looked like my name sounded better. It was magical. From being put up in a bad mood, I was electrified. With only the way he pronounced my name,  I was already thrilled in happiness.

I couldn't help it either so I looked behind me and hid my smile. "Yes? What now?" I crossed my arm, acting like a mean girl. As if it was making me look cool. He took a deep breath and took the same path I did.

He walked closer to me and said, "fine. Let's play. But only so you will stop calling me grumpy! And this is just for once, okay?"

"Someone doesn't like being entitled with a silly nickname." I chuckled. He shook his head and I thought he would remove a speck of dirt from my shoulder but instead, he tapped it and said, "tag! You're it!" He giggled and ran away from me.

The moment I realized what he was doing, my eyes widened so I ran towards him to catch him. The wind was blowing my hair away. And the amount of freedom on our faces as little kids playing was infinite.

We were problem free.

Well, that was what I thought not until...

I was so close to catching him and I did. He was it.

So I ran away immediately from him and let the wind meet me.

Just then, I heard him reacting. "Ouch" then it was kind of a slipping sound. It made me stop and look behind me. There I found Ven lying on the floor with an indescribable expression written on his face.

My eyes widened and I ran to him. "Are you okay?" I knelt.

"No," it was obvious.

"Stay there, I will call your mom." I smiled but before I can leave, I felt his hand on my wrist. I looked behind me and found his begging face. He shook his head. "Please don't." I didn't understand why he didn't want me to call his mom. But I was the reason why he was lying there on the ground.

It was my idea to play a game. If only I wasn't so naughty during those days. So, I had the responsibility to take care of him and obey him. I did what he wanted me to. I didn't call anyone.

I gave him my hand and he stood up. I carried him with his arms wrapped around my shoulder and his body leaned on my side. And no joke, until now, I remember how heavy he was.

As if I was carrying a sack of rice.

He wasn't fat but he was heavy.

"Stay here," I said as I left him sitting on our balcony of ours. "Where are you going?"

"I'll get some medicines." I was taught by my dad at a young age how to clean wounds and bruises. So I knew exactly what to do.

He nodded.

I came back with the white kit filled with dad's emergency stuff. But I tried my best not to get caught.

I sat beside him. Then I cleaned his bloody bruise with cotton and poured a small amount of betadine on it. It wasn't that big to make me disgusted. Thus, the guilt of knowing it was my fault was there. It made me extra tougher to clean it and apply everything that dad taught me. "I'm sorry for this."

"You should be," he said crankily.

As I expected. But I deserved it though.

"Sorry again," he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like being told the same thing over and over."

Same thing I said but on a different purpose.

I immediately took off the cover of the alcohol and when he wasn't looking, I poured a small amount of it. It made his eyes look bigger while he screamed, "AHHH!!!" I smiled and shook my head. He almost kicked me.

"I thought you were strong," I laughed.

"Why did you do that?"

"It would help your bruise get better, trust me!"

"It hurt me!"

"I already said sorry,"

"You didn't warn me though!"

"If I did, you could have panicked. Trust me, my dad puts this on me whenever I get bruises and they heal easily. I assure you, it will easily heal."

He shook his head in disappointment.

Was anything about it disappointing for him to look like that?