The Heartbroken - S01 E137

2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E137

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 137

“Do you want me to? Fall madly in love with you, I mean.” I had said the words without thinking and I mentally chastised myself for blurting them out, immediately regretting the fact that I even opened my mouth to reply.

He grinned and shrugged. “Fat chance of that when you’re the one doing the saving and I’m the one with the menstruating foot, eh?”

There was actually still a pretty good chance.

I was quiet for the rest of the hop-walk thing we had going on, mostly because I was trying to distract myself from his proximity with nursery rhymes.The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came Seth and–oh, f--k it.

We both sighed in relief as we got to the blanket. Helping him down, I had to bend down and let him sit down carefully. My slightly fogged senses finally clearing up now that I wasn’t pressed against his side.

I straightened back up as he reached for the car keys from his backpack, handing them to me.

I grabbed them. “Don’t you dare touch that wound until I get back.”

He regarded me with a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to pretend I didn’t notice how stupid he looked when he did that. And how cute he looked when he was stupid. I dashed off and made a run for his car.

Five minutes later, his foot was propped on his backpack as I leaned closer. The glass was actually a big piece, so I figured the tweezers were unnecessary. I applied some alcohol with my hands before setting out to pull it out.

“You’re using your hands?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

I shushed him to let him know I preferred working in silence.

It was wedged so deeply I was surprised Seth hadn’t actually cried. He winced audibly when I pulled it out, all at once in one quick pull to lessen the agony, but other than that, he was fine. The piece of glass was green, like a broken wine bottle, triangular in shape. The longest side was the size of my thumb.

“Holy shit, this looks like it hurts like a b---h.”

He made a face. “Does it look that bad?”

Judging from the size of the glass and the bleeding gash, I decided it was better not to answer that question.

I began cleaning the wound with some cotton and disinfectant, his foot occasionally jerking the slightest bit. Whenever I dared a glance at him, he would be looking at the ocean, his jaw tightening as I applied pressure to the wound. He was mostly quiet, save for a few grunts every so often.

“Why did you freak out all of a sudden?” he finally asked me as I started to dig around the box that held medical supplies.

“Maybe because you stepped on a deadly piece of glass?”

When I looked up at him, fishing out a roll of gauze from the box, he was shaking his head. “I meant earlier. You just… stood up without warning and literally bolted.” He was looking directly into my eyes. “Scared the crap out of me.”

“Oh.” I blushed. “That.”

I dropped my gaze and busied myself by looking for the medical tape from the box. It was a shame I found it quickly.

“Yeah,” he said, “that.”

Choosing it was best to shut my mouth, I started to unroll the gauze instead.