At Odds

Edith

"You're really getting the hang of it." Luca smiles.

"It's actually kind of fun." I say and place the game controller down. I get up and stretch, we've been in the living room playing games all day. It's now dark outside. "We wasted our entire saturday." I say gesturing towards the time on the wall. 10 pm.

"I wouldn't call it a waste." He stands and heads to the kitchen. "You hungry?" He says opening the fridge and examining what's inside.

"Yeah," I say and join him in the kitchen. I sit on the bar stool facing him as he takes out different ingredients. "Can I help?" I ask.

"If you think that you can handle it, then sure." He places a cutting board and vegetables in front of me. "Cut these up for me, knives are in the last drawer next to the stove." He points and I get up to get one.

"What are we making?" I ask and he smiles.

"It's a surprise." He winks and continues prepping the food. His grin, that wink. It invades my thoughts, my sight. So I don't notice when I grab the knife by the blade.

I look down at the sensation of liquid drops on my feet, it's my own blood dripping from my hand. I drop the knife in surprise and step back holding my hand shut in a fist. Luca turns startled and looks down at the blood.

A few drops.

Small puddles.

A huge puddle.

A puddle of that dark, cursed blood.

"Edith." He says and rushes towards me. He takes my hand and forces it open revealing the deep cut along my palm. He puts one hand above it and with my free hand I push it away.

"Don't!" I yell. I take back my hand and hold it against my chest back in a fist. "You shouldn't heal dark souls, you know that. I'll just accidentally absorbe your magic, your lifesource." He sighs. He leaves for a moment towards the bathroom and comes back with the first aid kid. It only contained surgically tools, since light souls are able to heal any minor injuries. He takes out the bandaging as well as the thread and needle.

"You're going to need stitches, so this will hurt like hell." I hesitate and just look down at his hands holding the needle. "Or.." He sees the uncertainty in my face, " I could try healing you, it'll be quick, no pain, and maybe nothing will happen. Maybe it isn't as bad as what people make it out to be." He says, offering his hand out.

"No," I open my hand and rest the back of my hand on the counter exposing the cut. "I can handle pain. I've been through worse." He doesn't argue, now he's the one hesitant.

"Okay."