masked

#20

I started to worry, the bookstore was closing soon and it had been a couple of hours. He wasn't answering his phone, the skin on my lip was nibbled away and I had a strange feeling in my stomach.

"We're closing now, miss." The kind lady behind the counter informed me. I nodded and stepped out of the shop. He said he needed to get something from the shop. Why had it taken this long?

I didn't want to go home without him. I sighed and started walking towards the town square, he probably just got caught up with something. Then my phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Willow?"

"Simon! Where have you been? I was so worried, don't ever do that to me."

"I'm sorry, my phone died and I kinda got lost but then I bumped into Harry and he let me use his phone to call you."

"Well, where are you?"

"No, um Harry's giving me a lift home. I'll meet you there."

"Wait wha-"

The phone line went dead. That was really strange, his story didn't add up. I had Harry's number, so why when he called did it come up as 'unknown'. Was Simon lying to me?

Then again, I was probably overthinking this. At least he's okay. That's what I told myself as I got on the bus and went back to the house.

-

I unlocked my door after waiting outside and almost breaking down with anxiety. None of the lights were on, Simon's shoes were not in the stand. I sunk to the floor, worry consuming me. My body started to shake violently, my mind stopped being rational and instead feeding me my worst fears.

Then I heard footsteps. "Willow?"

I scrambled up and flung myself into his arms. So excited that I didn't hear the strain and weakness in his voice. He was safe, I laughed a little in relief. Tears streaming down my face. Then I realised he wasn't hugging me back. I stepped back immediately, frowning.

He was holding himself weirdly, cradling his arm. I marched over to the light switch and flicked it on. In the light I could see, something terrible had happened.

His lip was purple, swollen with dried blood trickling down his chin. There were signs of bruising along his jaw and his sleeve had been ripped, exposing the gash on his arm.

It wasn't the injuries that worried me. It was his lifeless expression, his eyes were desperate staring at me with such intensity. He was studying me, his eyes full of love and despair and it broke my heart to see him. He looked like a lost puppy.

"Simon." I whispered, stepping towards him. "Let me call the police."

He shook his head furiously. "No, I'm fine."

"Then let me help you." I said gently, putting an arm behind his back to lead him towards the living room. He followed, too weak to put up a fight. I placed him on the sofa and then ran to get the first aid kit.

I dipped the cloth in my bowl of warm water and tenderly dabbed on his cuts. His eyes never left my own, they were burning with a passion that I'd never seen before.

I wrapped his arm in a bandage, he didn't even wince. "You don't have to be so brave, Simon." I murmured. He didn't reply.

When I had stitched and bandaged him up, he pulled me to sit beside him. I waited patiently for him to say something, anything. I needed him to reassure me.

"I love you." He says, voice thick with emotion.

I gasped, trying to work out if I heard him correctly. He was watching me carefully, waiting for a reaction. I leaned forwards and pressed our foreheads together. Hoping he'd understand how important he was to me .