Page 47 of Little Nightmare

The one where the scars are all the words spoken in the flesh, acted out on, bonded.

Icouldn’t stand the sight of him lying in bed—I couldn’t stand the sight of him period. Did that make me heartless?

I honestly wasn’t sure.

One thing I did know. I was part of him, and he was a part of me now. I pressed a hand to his chest. Already the wounds were soaking through his bandages. He was given morphine and told to rest.

I hadn’t left his side.

He was a bloody mess. Covered in sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead while he slept.

"Idiot,” I whispered. “Taking the downfall for something that you didn’t even do.”

“Idiot,” he rasped back, his voice startling me. “For staying in the room while I did it.”

I nudged his side. “You’re awake.”

“Kind of… wish I wasn’t, but the pain meds wore off an hour ago so I’ve just been laying here listening to you sigh.”

"And you creepily said nothing?”

"Five minutes in, and I talked myself out if it. The more time that passed, the more awkward it got, and then it was kind of nice, the silence. I mean, the minute I extend the olive branch of communication you light it on fire then search for more words you haven’t used yet in the last twenty-four hours.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And yet you use words to fill time and space with insults when you could just say thank you.”

"It’s hard to pronounce.” He finally opened his blue eyes and stared at me, leaning up onto his elbows. I tried to help him, but the way he clenched his jaw like the last thing he wanted was someone touching him had me dropping my hands back to my sides.

After a minute of squirming and writhing, he was sitting back against the headboard. “So, tell me about yourself.”

I gaped.

"What?” He tried to fold his arms then must have remembered he was bandaged up and, you know, missing freaking skin, and folded them in his lap. “I was serious.”

I nodded. “Leave it to you to cover my ass, pass out from pain after offering my dad your skin and hand in marriage all before asking that question. Besides, you read the black folder.”

The folder that carried both your triumphs and your sins on top of everything else I could have sworn that was attached to you like some sort of demon that the families couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times they tried to cleanse the bloodlines.

“Ah, the black folder.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t you feel like I should at least be owed a cow or something?”

"Are you high?”

He peered to his right, his eyes unfocused. “Fuck, that’s a lot of morphine.”

I let out snort. ‘Need I remind you that you gave up parts of your flesh all in order to protect my honor?"

"Life,” he corrected. “To protect your life. Besides, too much is at stake and—” He eyed my stomach and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is protecting you and the secret growing inside of you.”

I touched the flatness and dropped my hand. “It’s soon.”

“We should make an appointment.”

I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “It’s next week, actually.”

"I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“I’m your bodyguard.”

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