The Hurt Game

❧ twenty-four

A hand touched my arm. I jerked away as my heart pounded in my chest. I turned to my left and looked up at the person, who had interrupted me from my trance while checking the shelves for any misplaced books.

My eyes met with familiar dark brown ones and a smile crept on my face slowly. I opened my mouth to greet him, but the words faltered when I noticed his appearance.

A black eye. His lip cut and blood was welling up. Occasionally he would suck on it, sucking the blood away so it wouldn't smear. Another cut lined from his eyebrow, down and away from his eye. Another scar lined his nose. It looked crooked and I hoped it wasn't broken.

"What the fuck happened?" I breathed out.

Royden let out a little laugh, but his smile looked more like a grimace and his laughter was more like a hiss. His hand went up to the scar that was healing on his side. His knuckles was covered in bandages, but they were already dirty and smudged.

"I'm... dealing," he replied. He was tense, his whole body rigid and stiff. It must have been from the pain.

"Bullshit... Roy, what the fuck happened?" I repeated my question. My eyes scanned the rest of his body. His clothes were crumpled, thrown on carelessly, but they were clean. I shook my head as I looked up at him again. "What... Gosh, you look terrible."

"I'm fine," he said. He shifted himself, leaning on his other foot. His eyes never broke away from me. They were watching my every move. "I just needed to see you before―"

"Before what?"

He sighed and reached up to run a hand through his hair. He winced a little when he stretched, but his clothes didn't lift and I couldn't see a tiny bit of his skin that might have been damaged.

My heart was beating frantically. My hands were shaking when I reached out to him, taking one of his hands. The knuckles were covered with bandages, but they were put on loosely and parts were already loosening. A lump rose in my throat and I swallowed thickly. Someone needed to patch him up, clean his wounds. He couldn't do that on his own.

"Let's get to your place. I will clean your wounds, take care of them, just like last time," I said. I tugged him around and with me, back towards the backroom where I knew Arthur was.

"Wave, you cannot ditch work for me. I only wanted to you see one more time," he mumbled, but I heard him loud and clear. I stopped in my tracks and spun around to face him.

"One more time? What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned. My voice was soft. My lips were parted as I waited for a response, but nothing came. All Royden did, was stare at me and then he looked away. His nostrils flared. He inhaled shakily.

Say it. Speak. I dare you to.

But still nothing. I exhaled slowly and stepped closer to him, cupping his cheek in my hand delicately. I was too afraid to cause him more pain. He didn't need more pain, not him, especially not him. His eyes wavered back to mine and they were completely bare, vulnerable.

He's hurting.

"It's going to be okay," I whispered. "Just... let me take care of you, okay?"

Royden nodded numbly and looked away as soon as I dropped my hand. I turned around and pushed open the door to the backroom. He followed me silently.

"Arthur," I spoke and he looked up at me with a gentle smile. His eyes shifted towards the boy behind me and they widened, clearly concerned. He had come to care about Royden, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"Oh dear, what happened?" he questioned.

I shook my head and glanced over my shoulder as I reached back for Royden's hand. I gave it a little squeeze. "Can I please go and help him? I know my shift isn't over yet, but I cannot see him leave like that."