VIII.

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Killian's POV

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Killian's POV

I laid in bed wide awake.

Dinner had ended a few hours ago and everyone was in their own beds by now. I couldn't pinpoint what had kept me up tonight but for a change, it wasn't the nightmares...

And I wasn't sure whether to be happy or worried.

I kept tracing my fingers over my right wrist. It was still tingling, the same sensation it had earlier. I thought back to just a few hours ago, and what had brought on this burn.

"Let me help you." James had offered as I started to slip the seasoned shrimp onto the plates. I hesitated before finally nodding.

"Will you take out the salmon from the oven, I'm going to check on the rice."

"Sure thing." He replied, slipping on oven mitts.

I'd never been this close to James before. With the help of the kitchen lighting, I realized just how warm his eyes were. He had smelt of old spice and a bit of sweat which strangely didn't bother me.

It was... Nice.

When my arm reached over to grab the second skillet, I hadn't noticed how hot the first one was. My wrist bumped the side of the pain and I retracted my hand back from the pain. "Shit." I mumbled.

Before I could process what was happening, James had my wrist in his hands. "Are you okay?" He asked. Worry washed across his face. All I could do was stare at my hand in his. Someone was actually touching me.

He was actually touching me.

And I wasnt having a bloody panic attack.

"I-I'm okay." I whispered back. I tried to pull my hand away but he held it out firmly between his warm fingers. With my hand in his, you could see just how pale I was in comparison to him.

I needed to tan or something, jesus.

"Don't move." He ordered. A clean dish towel was soaked under cool water before he wrung it out and gently dabbed my wrist. I could feel the uneasiness starting to come on. I didn't like when people touched me, but somehow this didn't feel so bad, and I couldn't fight how good the cold water felt on the burn.

I was having a confliction.

We were pulled out from our thoughts by the sound of shattered glass.

I looked up to find Sarah standing in the doorway. She had dropped her wine glass.

"A-Are you okay?" She asked. Her eyes were clouded over. I had quickly pulled my hand back into the chest as if James's hand was now a hot stove.

"I'll be fine." I mumbled, wrapping the towel around my wrist before exiting the kitchen. I wasn't sure what I had done, but something felt... Wrong. I saw pain in Sarah's eyes.

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