Little Soc

182 3 0
                                    

Tim sat on the edge of my bed, groaning as he pulled off his boots and blood-splattered shirt before tossing them to the side.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked quietly, looking off to the side.

"Crashing here for the night." He said, his voice still as gravelly as I remembered. "Or are you referring to my shirt?"

I bit my bottom lip, refusing to look at the shirtless boy in my bedroom.

"Mom's gonna kill me," I whispered to myself as I began to pace back and forth. Tim watched my movements like I was a crazy person.

"Why would your mom kill you?" He asked.

"Because I have a boy- not just any boy, a shirtless, greaser boy in my bedroom. And if mom and Megan find out, they're gonna kill me, make you watch, then they're gonna kill you." I explained angrily, though I was still whispering.

Tim raised an eyebrow, still studying me as I paced. I was starting to lose my breath again, and that knot was back in my chest. This was not good, not good at all.

"So it's just your mom and sister I have to worry about?" He asked.

"Well, my brother too, but he's at his fiance's tonight," I muttered.

"What about your old man?"

I stopped dead after he said that, glaring at him to see if he was serious.

"What?" He asked after a minute.

"He left on a bender with some waitress three months ago," I ran a hand through my hair. "I doubt he's coming back," I added as an afterthought.

Tim bowed his head, suddenly becoming fascinated by the material of my comforter. I sighed. "I'll go get you some water."

Before Tim could say anything, I was out the door, shutting it silently behind me. If mom or Megan found out a hood snuck in through my window, I would probably suffer a fate worse than death. But I wasn't going to kick him out either. He did walk me home the other day, and judging by all his cuts and bruises, I'd say he got in a fight or something.

The boy was still in the same position I left him when I got back, so I assumed he didn't steal anything, at least I hoped he didn't.
"Thank you." He said as I gave him the water.
"Don't mention it. I'll see what I can do about those." I added, pointing to the cuts on his face. He nodded, chugging down his water.

I rolled my eyes, going to the small bathroom that was attached to my room. I got a wet cloth, some peroxide, and cotton balls before going back to him. He still sat the same, only the cup of water was now on my nightstand.

"Thank you," Tim said as I wiped the blood off his arms.

"What happened to you?" I asked, ignoring his thanks. He chuckled, making me glare at him.

"Would you believe me if I told you I got my ass handed to me by a couple of guys from the River Kings?" He hissed as I pressed a peroxide cotton ball to the cut above his eye.

I quickly shushed him, glancing at the door like at any second my mother would barge in. "Be quiet," I whispered, then sighed. "I actually would."

Tim hummed, staring at me the rest of the time I cleaned his cuts. It was annoying because I kept getting glances into his sapphire blue eyes every few seconds, I'm pretty sure I was blushing a little.

"Don't look at me like that." I finally said.

"Like what?" He chuckled. I glared at him. He knew he was making me nervous and I'm sure he loved every second of it. Of course, it didn't help that I was always nervous around people, especially boys.

The Stars In Your Eyes ✩ Tim ShepardWhere stories live. Discover now