The Bone Thief

Chapter Twenty-One

naturally, lucent is still an insecure, people pleasing softy with anger issues

and prosper is a manipulative heartbroken asshole, who really holds a grudge :)

i hope u enjoy this one <3 

Chapter Twenty-One

Current Day

My heart is racing, as I watch him grab hold of the handle on the cleaver, and yank it out. He staggers back against the wall, as blood leaks down his shirt. 

He drops the blade onto the floor, and the loud cling of the metal hitting the ground echoes in my ears. His hand presses against the wound in his chest, and he looks back up at me, "I admit, that wasn't something I predicted."

Blood slips through his fingers as he continues to press his hand against this chest. I see his pale face grow even paler, and I realize my own rage doesn't feel as satisfied as I had initially thought it would.

This was pathetic. What a pathetic loss of control.

I don't even notice what I'm doing until I'm beside him, "I'll call for help." My tone is even, I show no hint of panic at all. It is not honest. I can not decipher what it is I'm feeling. 

He grabs my wrist, I feel his skin against mine and it stills me. "Don't. They will know it was you."

"It was me." I know his intentions, and though he's trying to help me, I don't want it. Some deep part of me wants them to know. The whole world can know. It doesn't matter to me anymore.

"You accuse me of not thinking." He takes a steadying breath, I can tell he is in pain. It does not satisfy me like I was so sure all these years that it would. Or perhaps, it does, slightly, satisfy me, but that satisfaction is so miniscule, so worthless I can barely dwell on it. "So be better than I."

"Then what do you suppose we do? Let you bleed out? I admit, the idea holds value." It wasn't a joke, but I said it like one. A smart man would leave him, run away. No, a smart man wouldn't have lost control at all.

"There's a first aid box somewhere deep in the closet." He begins to slip to the floor, and I don't think about it, I take hold of his arm, and wrap it around my shoulders. He leans on me, and I feel him staring at me, but I don't look at him. His arm is touching the back of my neck, but I don't feel his skin. Only the fabric of his coat, and I dwell on that instead. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm still here at all. I should leave him. The loud, familiar voice in my mind is not as loud as it normally is. The same voice, begging me to leave, to run right now, and let someone else find him, bleeding out on the floor. 

I don't listen to it. I keep my mind steady. I pretend to do what the version of me that is in total control would do. I help Prosper sit in one of the nearby chairs, I fish the first aid box out of the closet, and I play doctor.

Prosper's hands shake as he tries to pull off his coat. I don't want to touch him any more than I have to, so I watch him struggle until it is off. 

"This is a fantastically stupid idea." I say, as I pull a chair up beside his, and face him. Bandages and tonic in my hands, I wait until he is shirtless.

"Well it was fantastically stupid to stab me."

That is such a weird thing to say. I've already replayed the moment over and over in my head, and I come up with the same conclusion, "It was also stupid to let me stab you."

Though clearly high in his own pain, a small ghost of a smile appears on his lips, "I am predictable, huh?"

"You are lucky it missed your heart."