Troubled

Chapter 14

How does it feel like when a really hot guy fall for you?

When asked this question you might answer with a. "It would be a dream come true." B. "It would feel like heaven on Earth." Or c. "Six pack dudes are fucking heavy."

I'm going to go with the latter.

"What the hell, Craig! Get off me!" I hit his arm as he lay on top of me.

He groaned and breath into my neck. My eyes immediately zeroed. Damn, why does he have to be like this? Damn, what is he doing here?

He slowly rolled off of me and landed on the floor beside me with a loud groan coming from him.

I felt my shirt drenched as it started to stick on my skin. Please tell me he did not pee on me.

I looked down at my body, relieved that I wasn't swimming in Craig's urine but with his blood.

Oh fuck.

I immediately sat up and saw a window from the house across from mine. A fairly nice old lady resides there. She has a very skeptical look on her face and I immediately shot my thumbs up and mustered a smile before she could call 911 and say a burglar crashed into my house.

I went quickly behind the door to hide the blood stains on my shirt. I mean she might be old but I bet she could distinguish things faster given that she had experienced things a lot more.

I pulled Craig's legs inside the foyer and completely shut the door and locked it.

I started down Craig who lied limply on my foyer, shirt drenched in his own blood.

I felt my knees go jelly. I felt my insides getting crazy. I can't see him like this.

I can't let him be like this.

With an aching chest and a sharp breath, I kneeled beside him and grabbed his arm, pulling him up but no one said  hot dudes are light.

I grabbed on the wooden cabinet to support Craig's weight.

Every step he groans.

Every move he winces.

And each and every time that happens I feel something unknown happen to my chest.

I feel him.

Maybe because I lo...

"Inggrid." Craig breathed out as I set him onto the living room's couch.

I looked at him and watched him as he flutter his eyes open and meet mine.

"I'm okay." He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

I looked at our link hands and the fresh and dry blood stains engulfing his. I pursed my lips and looked back at him. "No, you're not. You're an idiot "

As much as I wanted to feel the warmth of Craig's hand on mine, I dashed out of the living room and fumbled through the cabinets until I find a transparent box with a red cross on it.

I ran back to the living room beside Craig. With scissors, I snippet his shirt revealing a large slash on his chest. One that is fresh and one that was just healing but started to shed little bits of blood.

Just like the other time that Simon barged into his apartment, he had no bruises on anywhere. I guess Simon didn't want to leave little marks and was keen on big ones.

The thought of Craig getting hurt and slashed made me shiver. Why did he end up like this? Did he not fight? Hell, he shouldn't have fought with them, he should have called the cops. James and Bruce were there, they could have dialed 911 and he- wait, James and Bruce!