Bruised

02.

The second time she saw him, he was knocking on the door.

It was sudden, the sharp sound cutting through the usual afterschool silence. She stilled where she stood, her fingers hovering over the box of band-aids she'd been refilling. She stared at the door.

Who was knocking this late after school?

Was she supposed to answer it?

She figured that she wasn't a nurse. It would only cause unnecessary problems if she answered. What if someone was in danger and expected her to provide first-aid? She did do a first-aid course, but she didn't actually remember anything from it. And what if it was a teacher looking for her mum? Would she get in trouble? Labelled a trespasser? Was she even allowed to be here?

Another knock interrupted her thoughts.

She jumped, forcing her feet forward to pull the door open before she could overthink it further.

He was there.

He slumped against the door frame, peering at her through the gap. His lip was cut again, leaving it swollen and bloody. His hair was messy and pressed flat against his forehead like he'd been lying on it.

And he was so close to her.

"Oh," she squeaked, sucking in a breath when she realised that she'd been staring. "Should I get the nurse?"

Her mother had left her office a while ago, on the hunt for a working printer on campus, but Natalie would walk across the entire neighbourhood if it meant helping this boy. Or, more importantly, if it meant escaping the room and not being alone with him in this tiny nurse's station.

He shook his head, his eyes shutting for a long moment before opening to meet hers. He nodded his head towards the room. Towards her.

"Can I come in?"

She didn't know what to say so she pulled the door open, silently welcoming him in.

He stepped through the widened gap, gazing around the room before pausing at the centre. It was as if he'd never seen it before. She wasn't sure whether to believe that, considering that scars and faded bruises lined his skin.

Natalie shut the door behind him, pausing to look him over from behind.

More scars peeked over the collar of his shirt. The white fabric had been stained with brown spots of blood, and his hands—they were practically destroyed. The skin of his knuckles was bruised blue and purple, with cuts and scrapes kissing every jagged corner, blood specking on his fingers.

Her hands flew to her mouth, and he turned to look at her.

His face was almost worse. She hadn't realised it while he was slumped over, out in the hallway, but here in the fluorescent light of the nurse's office, it was clear just how badly he'd been injured.

His high cheekbones and sharp jawline were painted with green bruises and dried blood. She was horrified to think whether it was his blood or someone else's.

"I think I should get the nurse," she sputtered out, unable to look away from him.

He lifted his hands, holding them in the air as if to stop her—like he was cornering a scared animal. He stepped closer and she noticed then that his eyes weren't as black as she'd originally assumed. They were almost golden.

"Don't," he said. His voice was raspy. She had expected it to be quieter, more like the whisper that Leon tended to embody. "Please, don't."

Natalie hesitated. Her hand that had been resting on the door handle fell to her side. His lips twitched in an almost-grateful smile and Natalie felt blood rush to her face. She stormed past him, keeping her eyes focused on the cabinet ahead.