chapter nine

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09 POUNDING LIDS

        AFTER ARTEMIS SO GRACEFULLY COLLAPSED IN ADONIS' ARMS, HE HAD A CHOICE TO MAKE :

         One, he could leave her in the cold forest, eyes heavy and heart rate dropping, blood flooding out of the slit on her stomach. Two, he could gather her up in his arms and attend to the bleeding flesh, just so she could take him to Zeus and ruin any chance to Adonis having freedom.

        So without much thought, Adonis picked Artemis up by her waist and took her far away from the naiads water until it felt safe enough to settle. It wasn't hard for Adonis to find a small clearing in the forest, he set Artemis carefully against a tree stomp. His eyes lingering on the red stained shirt she wore.

         Adonis wasn't prepared to be a stand in medic, especially not for his capture, but he found himself carefully taking off her cloak and putting it to the side. The blood was flowing steadily now, it seemed to be drying on her shirt though, and that made him nervous.

        He felt nervous to unbutton her shirt and to unveil the wound tainting her predictably flawless soft skin. But he made his choice, and he was going to save her. There was no time for questions or much thought in why he did what he did, just his hands and the wound underneath her clothes.

His hands apply pressure to her wound for a moment, drawling out the inevitable of revealing the scarred flesh beneath her cloth.

He wrings out his hands once before unbuttoning her shirt enough to see the wound. Blood is pooled on her stomach. The thin sharp cut in her skin must've hit just the right spot to lose as much blood as it did. But Adonis knew of the huntress' abilities to heal and that it was just taking an agonizingly slow rate.

Tearing off a piece of fabric from his shirt, he began cleaning the blood covering the goddess' perfect skin. Adonis curses himself not to let his gaze wander over her skin, farther up the buttons that hide her more pronounced features. But he does notice the scar on her left hip. One that was not healed, he found that strange, seeing she had the ability of doing so.

Shaking the thoughts away, he throws the wet bloody fabric strip away. His eyes clench shut, trying to find some sort of serene in this whole situation.

In his entire existence, Adonis has never been experienced with wounds or blood. Only always having to be in the background and watch, like the good boy he was. And in this moment, he can be no spectator, he is the one with the solution. Artemis' will for tomorrow is up to Adonis.

When his eyes reopen, the touch that radiates from her cold frail skin radiates throughout his body. He realizes only then just how soft she is. Artemis may be hard on the exterior, her muscles made strictly or iron and walled up to hide any emotion.

But when you get past it all, past all the scowls and wrinkles itched in her forehead, something raw and weak is hidden. Something almost capable of emotions. Deep down, that is.

Not delaying another second with humorous thoughts, he pulls a hair pin from her hair and yanks off the decorative part, then he tore the elastic string from his underwear band. Using both objects as as a makeshift stitch kit and began pulling either side of the wound together.

Artemis began to stir under his touch. Her eyes flutter open, Adonis curses under his breath. He secretly hoped he didn't have to hear another word from her pink lips until he finished.

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