The Story of Us (An O2L / Kian Lawley Fanfiction)

Chapter 33 - Talk

***Maddie's POV*** 

Me and Sam are sitting on the couch in Kian's living room, not saying a word. I know Sam is mad at me, I mean, why wouldn't he be? I cheated on his best friend.  

When I had knocked on Kian's door, there was no response. I stood there for five minutes, waiting for Kian to show up at the door, which never happened. Instead, Sam showed up at the door as well.  

"What are you doing here?" Sam said with disgust on his face.  

"I'm here to talk to Kian," I said simply, understanding completely why he's giving me a glare.  

"I'm sure he doesn't want to talk to you," Sam said, rolling his eyes.  

"Well that's not your decision," I said rudely, not wanting to listen to his hateful tone anymore. Sure, I deserved it, but I wasn't going to let Sam decide if I made things right with Kian.  

"He's not here," Sam said a little bit softer now. "He's out skating." 

I nodded to him, and shortly after he led me inside where we now sit.  

"He should be back soon," Sam says, not looking at me. I nod anyway.  

Suddenly, I hear a loud sound outside, followed by the front door swinging open. There in the doorway stands Kian, blood all over him.  

His shirt is covered in blood, and it's dripping down his chin. His knees are scratched up and bloody as well as his hands.  

When he sees me and Sam, he gives us both a strange look, but closes his eyes and winces in pain.  

For a moment, I can't seem to move. The whole view in front of my freaks me out and I can't even imagine what happened.  

"Holy hell, Kian! What happened?" I demand, springing up from the couch and getting to him as quick as possible. I grab his forearm, but when he flinches I quickly let go, my hand getting some blood on it.  

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" He says with a dull tone.  

I die a little on the inside when I hear him because I know I truly hurt him. But as of right now, whether he likes it or not, I'm going to clean him up and get all of the cuts bandaged. I wasn't certified in first aid for nothing.  

"Doesn't matter," I say before turning quickly and heading for his bathroom, grabbing a bath towel, a few washcloths, peroxide and some bandages.  

When I return, Kian is still standing in the same place, his eyes slightly closed. Sam is in front of him, saying something but I don't care to listen to what he's saying.  

"Kian," I say in a commanding tone. "Sit." I pull a kitchen chair into the living room placing the towel over it and pointing to it.  

Without any hesitation, Kian walks slowly to the chair and collapses on it.  

I hand him a washcloth, ordering him to wipe as much blood off of him as he can while I focus on his knees.  

I take a cloth and press it to his right knee, causing him to flinch slightly. I add pressure to it to stop the bleeding, ordering Sam to do the same to his other knee. Sam complains, but when he sees my glare, he says nothing else and does as I say.  

I know these aren't life threatening injuries, but that doesn't mean I don't need to take care of it quickly. So I work as fast as I can.  

I take the cloth off, seeing how dirty the scrape is. I sit on my bottom and slouch so that my shoulder is level with the seat of the chair.