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Chapter 6

Lyric’s P.O.V:

“Damnit!” I gritted out as my legs gave out from under me.

Tonight’s match hadn’t gone well at all. Some 300 pound freak had the opportunity to beat the shit out of me while Derek just sat there and watched. And after I was beaten to a bloody pulp, the only comment he had for me was, ‘go home and patch up, you’re on again tomorrow’. Just fucking perfect! What a great brother I had.               

I hissed out a painful breath. I was pretty sure my ribs were cracked, broken probably, because this hurts like a bitch. I looked around the place with half closed eyes, I was so damn tired. To my relief, I was close to home. Just about a block or so away…if I could just make it there. Stupid of me to abandon my bike but Derek had been right when he’d said that I could easily kill myself if I rode my bike in the state I was currently in. One of Derek’s boys had given me a lift but I had told them to drop me off round the corner. No way was I letting someone carry me to my house like some pathetic loser.

 The pain was killing me, but as my brother had said, I needed to get back home and get working out. I can’t lose tomorrow’s match. I know my brother is working my ass off like shit but then again, getting into SEAL itself is a huge challenge and only the best of the best get selected. And I want to be the one to get selected. My brother Derek was a member of SEAL too but he lost both his legs in a bombing accident while trying to save innocent people and I don’t want to see him break down again, like he did when he woke up in a hospital with both his legs gone from the knee down. It’s not like I want to carry on his dream or shit, because this was my dream too. I wanted to be a hero. I wanted my parents to look at me with the same admiration in their eyes like they did my brother.

Heroes always get fucked up.

No kidding, I thought to myself as Lydia’s voice rang in my ears. I picked myself up and sat down on the sidewalk, leaning my back against a wall as I tried to collect my breath. I was fucking hurt and exhausted and I could already feel my eyes starting to close from exhaustion. It was a good thing I hadn’t ridden my bike home today, or someone would be scraping my remains off the road right now. But I did regret letting my pride get in the way of me getting a safe ride home.

I was suddenly jolted out of my stupor when someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t even realized that the pain was making me pass out before someone interrupted me. I looked towards the person, about to shoo them off, but I was left stunned and speechless the moment I saw their face.

Her face was emotionless as always, but her eyes held slight concern. She was wearing a loose fitted white shirt that hung off one shoulder and knee length black shorts. Her hair was down and it flew around her heart-shaped face in the soft evening wind. The place where her hands touched mine felt warm. “Lydia?”

She didn’t give me another one of her lectures, just stood up and grabbed my larger hand in both of her small ones, pulling me to my feet. “Come on,” she said dragging me behind her, my hand still clutched in one of hers.

 I smiled at her back but winced when my ribs protested. I placed my free hand on my chest, instantly wincing when the contact stung, then looked up to see that I was being dragged into the apartment building that I just happened to have collapsed in front of.

 “Where are you taking me?” I asked, but got no reply as expected. She pulled me up a flight of stairs and then she let go of my hand to unlock a door on the first floor. I instantly missed the warmth of her skin on mine.

Once the door was open, she pulled me in again and turned on the lights in the living room. She sat me on a couch after she’d locked the door and then went into another room, leaving me alone for a while. So I took the time to look around the room.

 It was a small room with pale yellow walls and a few plants hanging from the ceiling. Pretty basic furniture and a small kitchen attached to it. The room had three doors, two that lead to the kitchen and most probably her bedroom and one was right behind the couch, a glass door to the balcony.

 I was still looking around when she came out of the door she had gone into earlier, carrying a small first aid box in her hand. I watched through half closed eyes as she went to work on my wounds instantly. We didn’t speak. She just patched me up in silence, with me wincing occasionally when she’d hit a sore spot. I was a bit too confused and exhausted to complain so I let her do exactly as she wanted to. After all, who would refuse free treatment? After doing my face she turned to meet my eyes.

 “You need to take your shirt off.” A command.

“Love, if you wanted me naked, you should have just asked!” I joked, wanting to see something on her face. Any form of reaction. But when all I got was an unaffected stare, I sighed and tried to get my shirt off, wincing painfully as every movement made my chest feel like it was about to explode.

Lydia helped me with the shirt halfway through and together, we were finally able to get the damned fabric off of me. I collapsed back on the couch after the work was done, my muscles aching and my breath coming in pants.

“It’s bruised.” She said as she laid her hand gently on a sore spot on my chest. “All black and blue.”

“Wow! You say that with such a straight face like you aren’t even enjoying my pain.” I tell her sourly.

“Only psychopaths enjoy pain.” She said surprising me before pressing her hands harder into the spot.

“Ouch!” I yell. “Damnit, woman! If you plan to kill me, do it in one swipe.”

“It’s not broken, just bruised.” She said cutting me off and took out some ointment from the first aid box she was using and spread it over my wound. It felt cold, a welcoming relief from the pain.

“It’ll sting a bit, but once it’s done its job, it’ll feel better.” She got up with the box in her hand but I caught her arm.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked gruffly. “You were about ready to bite my head off this afternoon, and yet, here you are, being the hero.”

“I’m no hero,” she said quietly as she freed her hand from mine. “I’m just human.”

I frowned as she moved away again and I was left feeling her absence. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did I even follow her into her house? We just met today and we’ve butted heads right from the start. Then why was she being all nice and patching me up? If this was some sort of trick to impress me then it wasn’t going to work.

Damnit! Why is that I could never understand what was going on through this girl’s head? She is so confusing, like some sort of an enigma. But I have to give her credit for getting me so wound up within a few hours. Damned woman! I feel so pathetic right now, just lying on this couch, writhing in pain like a helpless person.

“Drink this.”

I opened my eyes to find a glass of milk being held in front of my face. “What the hell? Do I look like a child to you?” I snap at her.

“Even children have better sense so as not to get into fights,” she placed the glass on the tea table and headed to the opposite wall to switch off the lights.

“Drink that and get some sleep.” She said, her form illuminated only by a thin ray of light coming from the balcony. “And be gone by morning. I don’t want you lurking around when I wake up, I have school and so do you.”

With that, she went inside a room that looked like her bedroom and shut the door in my face.

I smirked. “Fine by me.”

So the little kitty still had her claws bared. For someone who though that heroes always get fucked up, she sure liked to play hero. Interesting. I can’t believe her tricks were actually working on me. She was getting under my skin and I was letting her.

“Well played, Kitty cat.” I told myself as I reached for the glass of milk. “Well played indeed.”

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