Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred & Thirty | Fourth World

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Naturally, those in the room jumped to their feet at the sight of blood. Some crowded around wanting to help but Fyre shook his head with a placated expression on his face. He spoke a few words, which to the disorientated young man sounded like deep-sounding gibberish. With everyone standing so tall, with pelts and other furs wrapped around their bodies, to the untrained eye they looked like bears.

He couldn't control the groan that left his lips as his nose throbbed painfully. It cut off the conversation which the respected older man was having with those who had flocked to help. Finch felt the man's body shake as he laughed in light of Finch's pain. But he continued to safely hold him in place and slowly venture deeper into the dummy house.

It was far larger than average, and less like it would be used solely for the purpose of being ransacked. Finch was caught by surprise when his body was laid down on a bed. He flinched largely because he hadn't expected it. And because of how gentle Fyre was being with him. It made Finch drown in embarrassment as he thought of the men who had witnessed him being carried like a damsel.

But Fyre clearly didn't carry the same anxieties, as he got to work finding the necessary items to help Finch out with his minor injury. But the young man, who was probably the most medically-qualified in the entire setting, knew that there wasn't much that could be done for stemming a bloody nose other than being patient. And lying down would definitely not help. So with a lot of grunting and groaning, Finch scrambled to sit up. Using his non-existent core strength.

He cupped his nose to stop the worst of the torrential flood from ruining his simplistic clothing and the makeshift bed that he currently sat on. When Fyre returned, Finch was doing all he could to stop his abused nose from bleeding. Pinching the bridge, he closed his eyes and felt the slight uncontrollable swaying motion his body moved in, while his heartbeat pulsed loudly in his ears.

Fahren grumbled under his breath, the blood which had coated his lips beginning to dry and crack. He cursed whoever was in charge of this whole test. Believing it entirely rigged. He had already been injured or suffered near-death experiences far more times in the current world than in any other. At least in the past, any injuries or poisons had already been inflicted and he barely felt the consequences of them.

But in this new world, as soon as he opened his eyes he had ripped his feet to shreds and had to walk for days on end leaving trails of blood. He was surprised a predator hadn't followed them and gobbled him up within the first couple of hours. Now, just from a slight trip, he'd almost broken his nose. His head had smacked the ground with enough force to rattle his brain and leave him feeling sluggish.

Fyre stood in front of Finch, the large man casting a shadow. He leant forwards and tapped Finch's forehead. "Let me take a look." He calmly instructed. When Finch tentatively responded by moving one hand, Fyre crouched down so they were almost level with one another.

Such a person like Fyre would immediately come across as threatening. His height, his build, his narrowed expression which was similar if not identical to Falcon's. Everything about him oozed a sense of authority, and it made sense why people unanimously decided this man would be their leader. Falcon being a younger version of this man, made the decision of appointing him as another authority figure all the more easier.

Through slightly unfocused eyes, which were filled with water, Finch watched the man. Fyre's green eyes were enchanting and stood out prominently against his deliciously dark skin. Finch would have shaken his head to rid of the ambiguous thoughts if he could guarantee he wouldn't pass out from doing so.