The Sinister Silhouette

“I wanted to thank you for standing up for me against Theo. I know it can’t be easy because he’s your brother.”

This close, even in the dim light, I see the irises in his electric blue eyes swallow up the black pupils, making his eyes look even more stunning.

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he rumbles softly.

I nod my agreement.

We stand there, just staring at each other, both deep in thought. I break our stare, unable to hold his remorseful one any longer. It’s then that I spot the dried blood on his hand. A sharp breath leaves my lips and tears prick the back of my eyes as I reach for his hand and bring it closer to my face.

“What did you do?” I ask, unable to hold back the worry in my voice.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles.

With the low lighting, I can’t see the full damage, so I grip his wrist and tug him to the kitchen and over to the sink. When I get a good look, my heart fractures at the mangled mess of his knuckles.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I glance up. His eyes search mine, something dark playing along the edges.

“Luca?”

He clears his throat. “Under the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

I leave him to go grab the first aid kit then bring it back with me, along with a clean washcloth I found in the small closet in the bathroom. Setting it down on the counter, I take out gauze, peroxide, ointment, and surgical tape and place them beside it. He’s leaning against the counter, his eyes on me the whole time, making me a jittery mess.

I turn the water on, grab his hand, and place it underneath the stream. Some of the blood washes away, but some has dried and sticks to the broken skin.

“This wasn’t done just by hitting Theo,” I state without looking at him.

“No.”

I peek up at him and still find his eyes watching me. I look back down, wet the cloth, and gently rub it over the cuts.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

It does matter, because I know whatever happened, happened because of me. It’s because of me he was hurt. A searing pain lances my chest, but I force the discomfort away.

Once most of the blood is gone, I pour peroxide over the wounds, the liquid foaming. I pour another generous amount.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. I can’t stand the thought of me causing him pain.

A hand appears in my vision a second before it cups my cheek and he lifts my face up to his. I blink away the tears that formed in my eyes.

His voice is deep, but unyielding when he says, “Don’t ever apologize for anything to do with this situation. You are the only one innocent here. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

I nod and close my eyes. Unconsciously, my head tilts to the side, enjoying the roughness of his hand on my face. I don’t know where all these feelings for Luca are coming from, but in the few hours I’ve been here, my awareness of him has intensified. It’s like I feel free when he’s near.

“Jules.” Luca’s whisper has my eyes opening.

“What?” I whisper back.

His throat bobs, and torment flashes over his face, along with some other emotions I’m too hopeful to name.

“We should go to bed.”

My eyes widen and flutters form in my stomach. The thought filters through my mind that I’m not near as afraid to go to bed with Luca as I was with Theo. The thought of lying in bed with Luca’s arms wrapped around me actually sounds very appealing.