The Heartbroken - S01 E175

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E175

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 175

The sight of blood had always

freaked Hail out (which kind of

made me wonder how she dealt

with her period), so we all decided

she should just get something for

us to eat and drink.

I froze when he reached up and let

his fingertips skim the area around

my eye. My hands stopped moving,

refusing to work until he dropped

his hand.

“Are the rumors true?” he said, not

quite looking into my eyes.

“Which one?” I asked him with an

eye-roll.

“Did he give you that black eye?”

I shook my head almost

immediately. “No, Cedric. It wasn’t

like that.”

He looked at me, wordlessly waiting

for me to elaborate.

“We were playing Just Dance and

some girl accidentally hit me.”

At this, his eyebrows shot up.

“You… danced?”

I could tell he was fighting a smile,

a conflict of confusion and

amusement and doubt clouding his

warm brown eyes.

“What?” I asked him, blushing in

spite of myself. “ It was just a

game.”

He looked me in the eye. “If you’re

trying to cover for that bastard,

please don’t.”

“I’m telling the truth,” I said.

He tucked loose strands of my hair

behind my ear with his hand, his

thumb slightly grazing the bruise

once more. “I’m just making sure.”

“I’m not lying,” I insisted. “And I’ll

have you know I wasn’t the worst

dancer.”

At this, his lips twitched into a small

smile. “Now I really think you’re

lying.”

“Hey!” I said indignantly. “You don’t

think I can–”

“I’m just kidding,” he interjected

quickly, a soft laugh escaping his

lips. He removed his hand but held

my wrist instead. Seth’s grip must

have been harder than I thought at

first, because there was a slight

bruise that formed near the base of

my thumb. “What about this?”

I looked away.

His shoulders tensed. “Kyla, did

he…”

“He didn’t mean to,” I said.

“Shit.” He let out a sigh and closed

his eyes, almost as if he was trying

to restrain himself. “That bastard

—”

“He didn’t mean to,” I pressed more

firmly. “Trust me.”

His worry was obvious, lining his

features and immediately sending a

tidal wave of mixed emotions

surging through me. I bit my lower

lip, gently dabbing the wet cloth on

the cut under his eye.

Trying my best not look at him, I

said, “Why did you fight him?”

“How can I not?”

“Cedric.” I let out a deep breath,

dropping my gaze as I shook my

head. “You said I should let you go.

And I’m trying, but you can’t do this

and tell me to forget you.”

His eyes bore into mine. He was

looking more and more conflicted

with each second that ticked by.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, placing

one hand on his forehead. “I’m

sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I

can’t be who I should have been

for you.”

His fingers traced the outline of the

discoloration on my wrist. I looked

at him, studying the slight crease in

his eyebrows as he wordlessly let

his touch say the unspoken words

between us, and I knew he was

blaming himself for my pain.