Page 39 of Descent

“The doctor is upstairs, babygirl. She will get you all patched up,” Liam says as he walks beside us, gently moving a piece of my hair out of my face.

“Asher first, his are worse.”

“No,” they all say at once, before Asher speaks.

“I’m fine, Princess. Really, you are priority. Please,” he says, enough emotion choking his voice to have me looking up at him.

So much pain and devastation is playing in those brown eyes. There are too many words unspoken between the two of us in this moment, and I don’t have the energy to find them.

The stairs suck. I watch as Asher takes his time with each step, not falling too far behind that he isn’t near me, but his jaw is clenched so tight I’m worried it’s about to break. When we make it to the top, I breathe out a sigh of relief before we file into my bedroom.

I feel the guys slowly lower me to the plush mattress before they step back. Well, they all try to. I refuse to let go of Asher’s hand, digging my nails into his in an attempt to keep my hold on him.

“Just let her take care of you,” Asher says, as he gestures to the doctor in the corner sifting through her bags.

I shake my head, not allowing him to pull away.

“S-stay, please,” I beg, a single tear falling down the side of my face.

“Ash, why don’t you lay down beside her. You need some help too,” Liam says.

Asher turns to look at him, hesitating for a moment before he nods. He pulls out of my grasp, and just like that, anxiety flares inside my chest. My head whips around so I can track his movements as he walks to the other side of the bed. This feeling is overwhelming, suffocating and it doesn’t stop until I feel Asher’s body sink beside mine before grabbing my hand.

I turn my head to face him, relief washing through me as his thumb rubs soft circles against the back of my hand. We are both laying on our stomachs, our torn flesh on full display, and when the doctor begins cleaning my back, I can’t help but scream.

The sound of several footsteps slip out the door as I groan, doing my best to bite back the pain. Asher scoots closer to me, tilting his head as he beckons me closer.

“Scream, Princess. It’s okay. Let the pain out.”

I lean into him, burying my head against his neck as I scream while the doctor works quickly. She apologizes profusely, and Asher keeps telling her it’s fine, to make it fast. I’m somewhere between reality and a hazy middle area. I’m not sure which I prefer in this moment, so I do my best to float in between both.

I don’t know how long we lie there for. It feels like hours, but maybe it’s just minutes. Eventually, the searing pain stops, and bandages start being applied to my back. It’s still uncomfortable, but after Asher begged the doctor to give me a shot of morphine, things feel a little fuzzy now.

Asher was next; he hardly made a sound as she cleaned his back. He just closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together. Until I reached my hand up to his face, gently running my fingers through his hair. His eyes flew open at that, and they stayed on me the entire time, like I was his life raft out of this hell we were trapped in. Like I was his only saving grace.

Eventually, the doctor leaves, and I watch as Asher pushes up to rest on his side. He squints and grimaces a few times before lifting his left arm silently, an open invitation that I take without hesitation.

Sliding on my stomach, I curl into his hold. I don’t feel a thing as he wraps his arm around me, taking care not to touch my back. With the morphine officially setting in though, I’m not sure I could feel it even if he did.

We sit there for several seconds, just basking in each other’s comfort before he speaks.

“Why did you do it? Why did you get involved?”

I don’t look up at him Instead, I keep my eyes on his chest.

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

“Princess,” he chastises.

“I don’t know,” I defend.

He’s silent for several seconds before I feel his forefinger hook beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his. Those brown eyes are drenched in sadness, his three golden flecks practically drowning behind the shimmering sheen.

“Tell me.”

I look between his expressive eyes and his full lips. Lips that are only inches from my own. I don’t know why I did it. Logically, it was the stupidest thing I could have done, and I have a feeling the physical result of my stupidity is only the beginning. If I could go back in time though, I’d do it again.

“It hurt,” I say, my eyes flicking across his face. “It hurt to see you like that, to see you defenseless, in pain, alone.”

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