VICIOUS

16.

I open the door of my room. Thomas leans against the wall and groans. His bleeding got even worse on the way here. I pray that his wound won't be that big or deep, otherwise he needs to go to a hospital immediately. 

I put Thomas' arm around my shoulder and help him walk into the room. With my foot, I close the door and continue to walk towards my bed. Carefully, I let Thomas sit down on my bed. The blood starts to drip on his shirt. I rush to the bathroom and grab a towel. From the cabinet, I get the first aid kit. He will probably need stitches, but luckily I know how to do that. I make sure I wet the towel and return to the bedroom. 

''I'm going to clean your wound after this, I'll be able to get a better look at your actual wound if the blood is gone,'' I explain as I sit down next to him. ''First, I need to get rid of the blood around it. It won't hurt.'' Thomas nods and groans when he moves his head. 

With my left hand, I hold his face so he won't move it. With the other, I start tapping the towel on his forehead. When the blood's gone, I open the first aid kit. I grab a small bottle of alcohol to clean his wound and put it on a cloth. 

''This is going to sting a little,'' I warn him, before applying it to the towel and then to his face. Once again, I hold his face with my left hand, while narrowing my eyes. 

''I can hold my head still myself, you know?'' Thomas says. At first, I think he means it. But then he smiles. His hand holds my wrist.

''Just let me do what I need to do,'' I respond. He closes his eyes, but he opens them quickly when I put the cloth on his wound. 

''Aah, that stings like a bitch,'' He hisses and he grabs his head. Because he does that, the bleeding starts again. 

''Told you so,'' I chuckle. ''When I'm done, you can give your shirt to me. I'll clean it for you.'' 

I put the cloth on his wound again, but this time he stays still and silent. I keep my eyes at the wound and the cloth, knowing that he's looking at me, following all of my movements. 

''Okay, I'm done,'' I say after a few minutes. ''But you need stitches.'' 

His eyes widen when I say that. He stands up and rushes to the bathroom. 

''The wound isn't that bad,'' He scoffs. ''No need for stitches.'' He walks back to my bed and shrugs. 

''Yes, the wound is that bad,'' I say and I push him back on the bed. I prepare everything I need and stand up. 

''Fucking heels,'' I mumble as I kick them off. I'm still walking around in my dress. It's not that comfortable, to be honest. ''I need you to lay down, your head on a pillow.'' I sit down on the side. 

Thomas lays down, his head on a pillow. He sighs and plays with his fingers while I put the first stitch in his head. He freezes a bit when the threat touches his skin. 

''No need to worry,'' I mumble at his reaction. ''Everything will be alright.'' 

After 10 minutes, I'm done. 

''You can take a look in the mirror if you want,'' I say. I stand up to put the first aid kit back in its cabinet. Together, we go into the bathroom. 

''Oh wow, you did a great job,'' he says surprised when he looks into the mirror. 

''Thanks.'' 

''Where did you learn how to do it?'' He asks. He walks out of the bathroom, I follow him. 

''A few years ago, someone threw a grenade right in front of me,'' I explain. ''I barely backed away, so it left its scars and wounds on my legs. I had to stitch them myself.''

Thomas looks at me, surprised and impressed. ''That's tragic, but it's awesome that you can do it yourself.'' I just nod in agreement, not knowing how to respond.

Then we just stand there in the middle of the room. I want to ask him about what Brandon said, but I don't know if it's smart to do so. 

''Give me your shirt, I'll put it in the washing machine,'' I say after a few minutes of silence. 

''You don't have to-''

''As a thank you for standing up to Brandon,'' I interrupt him. He just nods and unbuttons his shirt. He hands it over and I walk back to the bathroom. Because the color of the shirt is black, you can't see the blood, but you can definitely feel and smell it. A little while later I return to the bedroom. 

Thomas looks out of the window. It's dark outside, but you can see the lights of several houses, miles away. This place is so different than I was used to. I am happy with the fact that we can go outside whenever we want, not just when we are on a mission. 

Because Thomas is shirtless, I can take a good look at his tattoos. I think about what they could mean, but get lost inside my thoughts so my gaze stays focused on his bare torso. Then he turns around. When he sees me look, he smirks. 

''Enjoying the abs?'' He laughs. I come back to reality and shake my head. 

''Uh... Sorry, I was just thinking about... Something,'' I try to explain. Thomas looks like he doesn't accept this explanation, but he doesn't say anything. 

''I'll give you your shirt back tomorrow,'' I say, hoping that he get the hint and go back to his own room. 

''Do you want me to leave?'' He smirks. 

You've got to be kidding me. 

''Do whatever you want,'' I shrug. ''I don't care.'' I play it off as something I couldn't give a fuck about and walk over to the closet. 

Thomas scoffs and walks to the door. He finally leaves without saying another word and I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the door close. Finally. 

I change into some comfortable clothes and want to sit down on my bed, when someone knocks on the door. I groan and roll my eyes. It has been a crazy night, I just want to get some rest. Is that too much to ask? 

I walk over to the door and open it. 

Thomas. 

Before I can ask him anything, he walks in and closes the door behind him. I look at him, wanting to know why he came back. Did he perhaps forget something? 

''Forgot to say thank you,'' He says. 

Then he kisses me.