Emily
"Baby" I wheeled around at the sound of his voice. He was there, sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall and attempting to stand up with out falling over. "Did you bring a band-aid?" My eyes flickered down to his wrist that was so bloody that you couldn't make out his tattoo anymore.
"I need- you need to fix that" I corrected myself. He stumbled forward, still keeping his distance.
"Can you do it for me?" He asked, whimpering slightly as he took a look down at his very bloody hand. "I don't- I don't want to touch it and you'll do it better"
I don't know whether seeing him was the first or last thing I wanted. I couldn't deny it, I'd missed the sound of his accent that I'd gotten so used to. I missed seeing his bright green eyes that weren't so bright at the moment. But I'd just pulled my self together, not fully, but enough to be capable to get out of bed and actually do things that needed being done. And I knew bringing him inside would only make things worse.
"You should go to the hospital instead, they'll fix it up better then I can" I said, shaking my head and deciding that I should do what's best for me. He shook his head too, taking a step towards me and looking at me with pleading eyes.
"I don't want them to. I like it when you help me and-" He glanced down to his hand, letting out another whimper at the sight of the amount of blood that was dripping down his hand. "Baby please, I don't like it" He pleaded, his voice telling me he really did not like the look of his hand.
I hated seeing him in pain, and I hated how I could make out the difference in his eyes when in pain.
"Come on" I said quietly, causing relief to flood through his eyes as I stepped back inside. The cafe was just as cold as it was outside when the heater wasn't on, and the only light provided was the dim street lights outside.
I walked into the kitchen, knowing I would regret allowing him to come inside. I grabbed out the first aid kit from one of the cupboards as well as a clean cloth that I wet with warm water.
I walked back out, finding him sitting on one of the sofas that the people who wanted to study sat on, as he looked down at his hand in disgust.
I sat down on the table in front of him, gently grabbing his hand and ignoring the tingles it gave me and the whimper from him.
I pressed the wet cloth against his wound, applying pressure as I learnt to do from Mum when I was fourteen and fell onto a rock when camping one time.
A silence followed as I continued to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. It was uncomfortable, at least for me it was. He was too drunk to realise anything and instead was looking from me to his wound and back again.
"I'm not trying to break into anywhere ever again" He said, finally breaking the silence.
"Good" I responded shortly, lifting the cloth to find the bleeding had stopped. I grabbed out the alcohol wipes, taking one out of the packet.
"Unless your with me and can fix me up like this" He said, a smile on his lips as he looked up to me proudly while I sat on the table. I ignored him, bringing my attention back to his wound, that was now clean and clearly showed the words etched onto his wrist. I gently wiped the wound as he winced at the pain, instantly bringing his spare hand to grip onto my thigh that his wounded hand wasn't resting on.
I grabbed his hand, removing it from my thigh and dropping it into his lap, only to have him wince and place it back there, gripping onto me once again.
I grabbed his hand again, but he looked up to me with a pained expression.
"Baby please" He whimpered. I didn't want to correct him. I'd missed hearing him call me that. But I had too, because I couldn't be known as baby to him.
