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❝ 05 ,  bloody hell ❞

The basement had gone silent now that Demi had finished her training. She had been bored and wanted to make sure her fencing skills were as good as they used to be. They were, nothing changed but as she slung the sword out of the scabbard, she had cut across her wrist. It had been a mistake, one she had made multiple times until somebody taught her how to properly hold herself but old habits die screaming.

Especially when it had been a while since she'd had a chance to use the rapier properly. Her wrist was bleeding through her t-shirt and she was quick to pull it up her arm as she took the stairs two at a time to get into the kitchen.

She gritted her teeth against the pain as she walked over to the kitchen sink. She hadn't even bothered to check if anyone was in the kitchen before she flicked the tap on and stuck her bleeding wrist underneath. Demi let out a soft hiss but the pain soon eased up as she glanced around and George was there.

He still hadn't apologised. She had absolutely nothing she wanted to say to him but he was cooking on the stove and from the brief look she had given it, it was pasta. That needed straining. She turned back to the sink, not even acknowledging him.

"I was about to strain my pasta," George sounded mildly annoyed and Demi shrugged her shoulders in response. That was the best response she had given him in two days. Part of her wanted to speak but the bigger part of her wanted to be petty.

"Strain your pasta around me," Demi retorted, annoyance lacing her tone. It was the first time they had communicated outside of the table cloth since the toaster incident. Anthony was in the library so he could probably hear the two of them through the open kitchen door.

She didn't particularly want him to know what she had done or what was happening, she felt stupid enough that she'd lost the technique and cut herself. She didn't want Anthony teasing her about breaking her silent treatment of George as well.

"I don't want blood in my pasta!" George huffed in response. He was surprised by her speaking but she was annoying him nonetheless. Demi scoffed and pulled her wrist from under the tap. She then stepped back and looked around for a towel to put over it while she waited for George to be done. But there was no tea towel around, George was using it to hold the handle of the pot to strain the pasta.

"Boys, they're so dramatic," Demi spat in response. Her back rested against the counter as she lifted up her bloody wrist so she could see it. She poked at the bloody wound and watched as the blood dripped down her arm.

She'd certainly had worse cuts from her rapier and even George had given her a bruise that felt much worse. The toaster had left a bruise on her stomach that made it somewhat difficult to exist but she was powering through, like always.

She hadn't even noticed the pain until she was halfway through her run and she knocked her stomach against the edge of a wall. It had been an accident but it hurt like hell. The last half of her run took twice as long as a result and sitting down hurt. All because George's stupid crumbs had jammed the toaster. It had lightened a little now and the pain had subsided somewhat but it still hurt.

"I'm sorry, alright!" George suddenly snapped as he took the now drained pasta back to the stove. He seemed just as done with everything as Demi felt but he had at least said it. It's all he had to say this entire time. She walked over to the sink and put her wrist under the water again.

The blood turned light pink as she scrubbed away the blood that had dripped across her wrist while waiting for George. Part of her hoped that Anthony would notice their little spat and the injury Demi had sustained so he would give her a few seconds of his attention but the better part of her knew that he shouldn't see. Especially if they had a case soon.

"That's all you had to say," Demi bit back and he rolled his eyes. He poured some sauce over the top of the pasta, mixing it all together. The residual heat from the stove heated both the sauce and the pasta enough for it to be pleasant when George eventually ate it.

"If you hadn't lost the casing, this wouldn't have even been an issue" George mumbled and Demi grabbed the closest object and threw it at his head. A spatula flew towards his head and landed squarely in his temple as he turned to look at her. He let out a yelp of annoyance and Demi glared at him. It was somewhat playful but her genuine annoyance still showed.

He picked it up off the floor and dropped it on the counter, "You scared of a spatula, Georgie?" She teased and he glared at her. It seemed to be a lot more genuine than hers but she had absolutely nothing else to say to him. He had hurt her. He took a bowl out from the side and then poured the pasta into it. He only looked mildly peeved by the entire situation.

"Please don't throw around the kitchen utensils," Anthony's voice made Demi pause in her actions. She turned the tap off and her gaze shot to him as she awkwardly pushed her hand behind her back. She couldn't have Lockwood see. It was an accident and a stupid one and she didn't want him to judge her for that. She felt stupid enough. Her back rested against the counter and her wrist stayed perfectly out of sight.

"He started it," Demi shrugged, trying to play off the situation. If Anthony didn't think anything was happening, he would leave and she would be free to look after her arm, "And he finally apologised so it's fine," She added quickly.

But as George picked up a fork from the drawer beside where Demi was standing, he could clearly see what she was trying to hide.

"She was bleeding into the sink," George shrugged. He then dropped the fork into his bowl before he took it and himself upstairs to his room. Demi glared at the back of his head as he walked out. He had done that on purpose, that much was clear.

"Bleeding?" Lockwood asked as he walked towards Demi. She suddenly became a lot more anxious, hiding her wound further behind her back. He loomed over her and tilted his head. Only a few steps between them, "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing," Demi dismissed and then Anthony turned his gaze very obviously down to the arm she had practically shoved behind her back.

"Show me your arms then," He responded and Demi shook her head. There was an almost teasing look on his face and she looked up at him with defiance.

"I don't know what you think's going on, Lockwood, but I'm fine," Demi said as she slid away from the counter. She kept her arm behind her back as she walked backwards away from Lockwood but he seemed unrelenting. And when she turned to rush up the stairs, he grabbed the arm she had hidden, pulling her back towards him.

The sweat from his palm stung the wound and she let out a soft whimper which caused Anthony to drop her wrist within seconds of her stumbling in front of him.

"Bloody hell," He mumbled as he looked down at his hand. Blood coating his palm. She had been caught out, "Dem, what happened?" It was not an accusing question, just genuine curiosity and she sighed. She showed the slit across her wrist to him, a small frown spreading across her face. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid.

"I took my rapier out wrong, it sliced my wrist because I was holding the holster with my free hand. I used to do it all the time but I thought I got out of the habit," She admitted, rambling slightly. She hoped that the over-explaining would make it seem better. Lockwood sighed. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

"And why were you hiding it?" He asked as he crossed to the cupboard. He pulled out the First Aid box which had the plasters, disinfectant and some cotton swabs to help clean it up. The supplies were dropped onto the table and then he grabbed a bowl and walked to the sink, filling it with lukewarm water before he placed it down next to Demi.

"I cut myself while practicing. It makes me look bad," Demi responded as she slouched back in her chair. Anthony hummed and then pulled the chair out, dropping to sit across from her. He gestured for her to rest her arm on the table and she did so with a little reluctance.

"Accidents happen," He said simply. She nodded and then he picked up a cotton ball. He placed it in the water and then used it to clear up the edges of the wound before he picked up the disinfectant wipes.

"You hired me for being a good swordsman," She mumbled. Lockwood scoffed and he gently pulled her wrist towards him. His fingers were pressed against her skin and she could feel the heat radiating across her body. She was fighting the blush and heat that threatened to warm her cheeks but was already racing up her neck. As much as she tried to ignore it, everything Anthony did made her feel flustered.

Even when he was being the most arrogant, annoying little prick she had ever met, he still made her weak at the knees. It made him a somewhat more annoying and arrogant prick which is exactly why she never let him know how it made her feel.

Letting him hold her wrist like he was was enough to send her reeling. Her mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as he gripped her wrist and ran the wipe across the wound.

However, her thoughts of how lovely he was were disrupted by the pain that ran through her nerves. A soft hiss escaped her lips and she turned her head away, eyes closed as he disinfected the wound the best he could.

But the blood suddenly rushed to her cheeks when she felt his thumb run across the skin of her wrist, soothing her. It was a completely unnecessary touch but when she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a look she didn't recognise. It was odd but he didn't say anything. Just turned his gaze back down to the wound.

"You're talented in more ways than just your rapier. Don't let one failure get you down," He responded. Words so wise for someone with such an ego. She wanted to bite back something but she had nothing to say as she watched him check the wound one more time. The blood had stopped flowing as heavily now but it still treacled out in small droplets.

"Why did you hire me?" Demi asked as she watched him think. He then placed her wrist back down on the table. He stood up and walked back to the First Aid box.

"You passed the tests," He shrugged. Demi scoffed. That was something she had seen many other clients go through and she had absolutely not passed a single one of those tests. He hadn't even got her to try. She was picked up off the street.

"What tests?" She asked as she pushed herself up so she was swinging back in the chair. Lockwood instantly knocked her back forward now that he had returned with some bandages.

"Don't give yourself a head injury," He warned as he dropped down on the chair across from her again. She moved her wrist back towards her and twisted it so it was in the sunlight. It didn't really look as bad as she expected but then the blood started to drip down her wrist. Anthony snatched her wrist back.

He wiped the blood away before he placed it back on the table, "My tests," He finally responded to her question. She scoffed and he gave her one of those charming smiles that made her forget what she even wanted to say. It always had the intended effect, "Will you still be able to come out with us?" He asked. Demi nodded.

"This won't stop me. I've had worse," She mumbled. Anthony smiled and then he took the backing off the plaster, gently pressing it over the wound. It covered the slice almost perfectly and then he grabbed the bandages. He used his finger to pin the cloth down before he wrapped it once, twice, three times around her wrist.

His hands were touching every part of her skin and she knew that it meant nothing. He was just helping but the blush crawled across her cheeks anyway.

"That okay?" He asked. She hummed out awkwardly and cleared her throat before verbally confirming. He gave her a little nod and then cut the end of the bandage before he taped it down. He ran his hands over it, turning her wrist over but even when he was satisfied, he didn't let go. There was silence between the two and when he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, she suddenly didn't know what to say.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, not saying anything but both being completely stumped. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from his touch and his words and the gentle way he was still cradling her wrist. It tied her stomach in knots and then a throat cleared from the doorway and Anthony scraped the chair as he got up from the table.

"She alright?" George asked. Lockwood nodded before he let go of her wrist. The sudden awkwardness that filled the room was suffocating and it seemed he didn't want to deal with it. So, he was quick to exit the room with a small smile and a mumble of goodbye. She couldn't blame him, not for a second.

"You bruised my stomach with that toaster you know. I wouldn't have been as annoyed if it didn't hurt," She mumbled. George frowned as he looked down at her.

"Sorry, I didn't think." Demi shrugged and she got to her feet. She pushed the chair in and collected up the First Aid supplies and put them away.

"And," Demi glanced at the open kitchen door. She paused in her words to push the door to a close before she turned to him, "I am sorry if I disrupted what you and Lockwood had. I know I just sauntered in a few months ago but you both mean a lot to me." Lockwood hearing wouldn't have been the end of the world but she knew that it was something that George needed to hear. Even if he didn't want to admit it.

"But he means more to you right?" George asked. Demi furrowed her eyebrows and when she met the boy's gaze, she simply shrugged. There was nothing she felt like would be an adequate response to that but her lack of response said it all. He brushed it off, "You going later?" He asked. They had a case. A small one but the three of them had all decided to go. She nodded her head.

"Always." George nodded and then Demi opened the kitchen door. She mumbled a quick goodbye before she headed up the stairs to the landing. Anthony was sitting in the library. The magazine in front of him as he read in front of the fire. Demi watched him for a few seconds. His profile was so pretty. He was so pretty. Hot, attractive, whatever the word was. Demi hated admitting it but he was perfect. She wished he would say more. But he didn't.

And before he caught her staring, she pulled away from the door and headed up to her room to do some tinkering.