Sutures

The lamp light flickered over the curved needle pinched between his fingers. His leg bumped the wooden table between his bed and her own. Pulling the suture upward, he wiped away the blood running down her arm; the towel turned a brilliant crimson. He dropped it onto the carpeted floor. Tying off the suture, he grabbed the scissors from his bag before cutting off the needle. Running his finger over the small stitches he frowned. They were coarse against his skin.

Letting the needle and scissors fall into his bag, he shoved back the dark hair that had fallen into his face.

The wind slammed into the sliding glass door, drawing his gaze. Bullets of rain crashed against the concrete patio outside.

"How bad?"

Arthur wiped his hands on his pants. Blood and sweat clung to the fabric.

"You'll live," he said. Grabbing the gauze, he began wrapping her arm.

"Too bad."

He stilled. The gauze was heavy as threaded iron in his hand. He looked upward, meeting her ocean blue eyes with his own dull blue. A twisted smile on her face. Dark flecks of red decorated the knife she twisted around her fingers.

Tightening the gauze until the white material turned a pastel pink, he held her gaze.

Raising an eyebrow, she tilted her head allowing her blonde hair to fall over her shoulder. A collection of thin silvery scars marked her collarbone dangerously close to her neck.

His fingers trembled.

Dropping the dagger, she reached out, brushing her calloused fingers against his cheek.

He flinched. Her icy skin burned against his own.

She frowned her fingers hovering over his skin.

Cutting his gaze back to the gauze, he wrapped it around her arm. Biting his lip, he tried to focus on the material in his hand. It was a cool softness. Lamplight flickered over his shaky hand.

"Sorry," she said. Her hand barely brushed his shoulder.

Shivering he leaned away.

Her hand landed on her lap.

"It's fine," he said. Holding the gauze in place with one hand he grabbed the medical tape. He pinned it in place with a little more force than necessary.

She laughed.

Tearing the tape away, he tossed the remainder of the roll into his bag.

He shuffled away when she reached for him again. Snatching both a bottle of painkillers and her dagger off the floor he held them out to her.

Rolling her eyes Sirena allowed him to place them in her hands. Standing, he moved toward the glass door.

Her eyes followed his steps sending a shudder down his spine. "I'm not going to leave."

He winced. Keeping his gaze on the mammoth-sized rain drops his throat burned. They splattered like crushed grapes against the concrete breaking all too easily. Humans were the same.

Pressing his head against the cold glass he refused to flinch when her bed creaked followed by a thud.

Laying on the bed, she tossed the dagger into the air before catching it. Still unopened, the painkillers lay on the center table.

A shaky breath fogged the glass.

Lightning lit up the sky with violent light. His chest tightened. Shoving away from the glass, he headed toward the door.

She didn't even twitch.

The door handle was heavy in his hand as he hesitated. Looking at the spots of blood on his hands, he pulled open the door. His legs were heavy as he stepped out shutting the door behind him.