The Unseen Beauty of the Ungrateful

Chapter 12: Crime and Punishment

I hope you enjoy this chapter brought about entirely by my procrastination!

Left foot. Right foot. Hands- ow! Ok, not broken. Ah- ribs. Deal with that later. Head...

Grian lifted his hand carefully to feel his forehead, which was throbbing dreadfully. He let out a relieved sigh when his fingers scratched the rough exterior of his mask still tightly clinging to his face, most likely using his blood as glue.

He winced as he tilted his chin and felt a stab of pain emanate from the back of his head, curling up to wrap around his temples.

Slowly and carefully he wrenched open his heavy eyelids and took some deep breaths, waiting for the white and purple fireworks popping in his field of vision to fade.

Lying on his back, the first thing he saw was stone.

Ok, I'm in a cave... how did I get here?

Shifting slightly to the right, he was startled to see the slumped form of Mumbo above him.

Did he carry me? Am I... laying in his lap?!

Grian jumped up way too fast, silently cursing under his breath as his burned legs dragged against the ground and his vision swam dangerously.

Mumbo grunted and furrowed his brow but did not wake up.

Thank Gods. Maybe I can sneak away and try and fix myself up...

He sighed and struggled to his feet.

Damned creeper... no no it's not its fault for doing what its programmed to. It's your fault for being reckless. Remember, your injuries are a representation of your own failure, not anyone else's.

Grian limped over to a nearby creek and knelt at the bank. Taking a quick look around, he removed his mask and splashed his face, shivering from the cold as the red dyed water dripped from his chin onto the snow.

I can't believe he carried me. No one has touched me in centuries... unless they were trying to hit me... not that I don't deserve it

Grian gritted his teeth as he pulled his gloves back on, the lacerations and burns covering his hands screaming at him to stop. By the time they were fully covered, he was shaking from the pain and struggling to move his swollen fingers.

Ok, ok. Get over yourself and calm down. Don't be so dramatic.

He moved to his legs, wrinkling his nose at the swollen purulent filled burns stretching from his knees to his ankles.

Ugh, look at what a mess you made. Mindless, destructive, ugly, waste of space-

"Grian?"

Grian grabbed his mask and quickly fastened it back on before turning to see Mumbo standing a few feet away, a worry line creasing his forehead.

Grian stood slowly, clenching his jaw as to not show any weakness and crossed his arms.

"Yes?"

"Um..." Mumbo fidgeted with his sleeve. "How-how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine" Grian lied, refusing to wince as one of the gashes on his hand split open within his glove. "Are you? Are you hurt?"

He watched as Mumbo's cheeks dusted with pink and he wiped his palms off on his jacket.

How can he be warm? Does he have a fever?

"I'm fine. I'm really more worried about you though. We should really go back to the castle so you can rest"