His purpose (you die, I die)

Chapter five

"Perfect"

I said, while tasting the chicken soup I made. It was my own personal recipe, and it never failed. The soup was the perfect balance between thick and thin and had the perfect amount of chicken. I was proud to say, that chicken soup was for sure my specialty.

"Sometimes I wish you were human, just so you could get to taste this" I said, after noticing the drool running down Barszik's tiny mouth. I went to the cabinet and grabbed a pack of cat food, even though we were on a tight budget, I always made sure to get Barszik his favorite food, and of course the most expensive one.

"Fuck"

My eyes widened, and I felt body stiffen up. He was awake.

1

2

3

Deep breathes. This was my technique. My own personal technique, every time I felt a rush of panic heading my way, or a sudden urge to break down I used to count to three and by then everything would be okay.

"Fucking hell"

My body snapped out of the trance, and I ran over to my bedroom to check on the stranger laying down on my bed, only to see him struggling to get up from the bed. He was throwing all kinds of cuss words, as if it was the only words in his vocabulary. I let out a deep breathe, I felt like I've been holding in for too long. I could finally breathe again.

"Stop, you're going to open up your stitches" I said, making my way to the bed but before I could take a step further, a gun was now pointed at my direction. Where did that come from?! I hadn't realized he was carrying one, was I really such a mess that night that I couldn't notice a gun in his pants?

"Who the fuck are you" He groaned, I wasn't expecting his first words to be a thank you but this was next level. Before I could answer his question, my eyes landed on his wound, it was bleeding. Damn it.

I ran out of the room to grab my equipment, and straight back again. When I entered the room, I could see a hint of confusion and amusement on his face. Maybe he thought I was crazy, he was sitting there pointing a gun at me, while I was rushing over to make sure he didn't bleed out. It was in my nature, I couldn't bear the thought of seeing someone hurt. I have to help. 

"You have to lay still" I said, narrowing my brows while trying to work around the gun he was pointing at me. His body started to feel calmer, but I could still feel his guard up, and I had a feeling that it wouldn't be let down any time sooner.
"I'm only trying to help" I stated, no answer. It's okay though, It's not personal. Its normal for a patient to be confused after an incident, especially one like this.

"why"

I looked up, and my eyes met his big brown ones, it was the first time I had seen his eyes in day light. They were a light shade of brown, big and round.  A pool of honey. That's the first thing that came to mind.

"Why not?" I shot back, he narrowed his eyes at me, and it was only then I realized that he had dropped his gun and put it on the table but close enough so he could pick it at any moment if needed. He was calculated, that's for sure.

"Who the fuck picks up a stranger from an alley and takes them home?" He spat, almost as if it was such a stupid thing of me to save his life.
"It was either that or let you bleed to death, any decent person would choose the first option"
He groaned, when I started patching up his wound.

"That's not decent"
"What is it then?" I answered, taking another round around his chest to make sure he doesn't bleed through.
"it's stupid, angel" My eyes shot up at him, did he just call me angel? It's the first time someone has ever given me a nickname, it was a weird first nickname. Angel.

I finished patching him up, ignoring his snarky comments. I took out some painkillers and handed them to him, with the glass of water I had prepared earlier. "Here, it'll help with the pain"
He looked like he was debating if he should take it or not, which made me realize that this man had some serious trust issues.

"It's Ibuprofen not poison, I promise"

After what felt like an eternity, he finally took the pills, I couldn't help the smile that formed on my face. One of my favorite things at the hospital, especially after surgery, was when the patients gave me their trust and realized that I only wanted to help. It was like a trade, they give me their trust and I help them get better.

I looked at him, meeting his brown eyes yet again, they were so intimidating and gave me an eerie feeling. It was hard to describe, it felt like they could switch from warm to cold in seconds, impossible to read. I looked away, when I realized I was staring.

"Um, so, are you hungry?" I said, scratching the back of my head. I couldn't make it more obvious that he was making me nervous, just by his stare.  "I made chicken soup"

He was staring at me, as if I was some kind of weird alien that had dropped in front of him. 
"I'm not staying" He answered, his voice was so serious, so dark and you could tell he was used to being the one in charge.

"You can't leave yet, you haven't healed, and you have to rest, your body is still weak"
"Watch me" He said stubbornly, a chuckle escaped my lips when he fell the second he tried to get up. He shot me a deadly glare, it looked like he wanted to strangle me.

"One bowl of chicken soup it is then" I said.