Cover By prettyimbecile

Dedicated to pretty_poison_

Question of the day: "What's the weirdest smell you have ever smelled?"

"No matter how much I fight with you, I'll still go back to you."

****

"Ian is a professional, Nate. Just let him check once." Pastel comes to my rescue. I look at Nate and he is asking for my permission. I nod because this leg really hurts, no matter how much I try to tone it down to Nathan. Pastel and Nate help me sit on a stool while Ian inspects my leg. When he touches it, I feel chills all over it, even though the temperature is burning here. He knocks his finger on it a couple times and I wince.

"You should make sure to keep ice on it all the time," he stands up. "I am fairly certain it is not broken. Just sprained. Rest as much as possible and you will be fine."

"How many days may it take to get better?"

"A few weeks? Maybe 2 weeks." I sigh. "What's the problem?"

"She wants to go to work."

Ian glares at Nate. "She can answer for herself." He looks back at me. "No work till I give you a green sign."

"Funny because you were the one answering her questions at Paste's house that day." Nate says, ignoring the fact that Ian was talking to me. He leans forward and they both seem to have a staring match. God kill me already.

"Enough!" I say. "Nate don't you think you have fought with enough people today? Just take me home. I want to rest. And Ian? Back off. Please. I will call you if I face any problems."

Ian nods but even a fly can tell he's doing it reluctantly. Nate helps me get up and walks me to the cab. The cab ride to my house is almost awkward with none of us speaking a word to each other. Not even the chauffeur. When we finally reach my house, Nate doesn't even let me open the car door. He does it for me and then without warning scoops me in his arms, after paying the poor cab driver. I should have found this romantic at a time if my leg wasn't hurting like a bitch. He somehow opens the front door with me still attached to him.

When we're inside, it's pitch black. But with this laser cat eye sight, he sets me on the sofa and then turns the light on. He goes to the kitchen in search of something while I try to move my injured leg. It's honestly impossible because of the searing pain. He comes back with the ice pack and kneels in front of me. I can't help but notice that we move in sync of a couple who know each other for a long time.

He gently puts the ice pack on my leg, and I wince from the cold temperature of it. He looks up and I say "too cold." He gets up again and comes back with a rag where he puts the ice. He applies the pack back and the temperature is slightly higher, so it feels better. My heart warms at the way he takes care of me.

He stays like that, staring at my leg, his hands keeping the ice pack up right. I think through all of the things this injury will cause problems for. "I won't be able to walk. God and I have to go to work! The client will come soon and what about cooking? Who will cook now? And laundry! Urgh!" I look at Nate and his free hand is fisted, and his mind is elsewhere, I can tell. He seems like he didn't hear a single word I said. "Are you there Nathan? Did you listen to me?"

"Yes," he snaps. His reply is so unexpected, I jump. "You are thinking of all the problems, right? Maybe you should just go and call dear Ian, because he is the one you seem to be more close to anyway!" He abruptly stands and the ice pack falls to the ground.

I sit up straight, careful not to put too much weight on my injured foot and face him. "Really? You have so much problems with him. Why?"

"Why? Are you for real?" He looks at me as if saying 'duh'. "Whenever you guys are together, you talk and look at each other like no one else exists on this planet!"

I laugh. Yes, a really-what-the-hell-is-he-saying laugh. "You really think that?" I say between giggles.

"This is not funny." I immediately grow quiet at this authorative tone. "You gave me all the reason in the world to think that!" I look at him in question and elaborates. "You spend time with him while baking. You tell him things you never tell me. I mean, look at us! You still never told me what exactly happened that day ay Aragain before I left for Aussie. And it's been over three months!"

A lump grows in my throat. Guess he has a point. I look at the ground. "I told Ian today that he was prejudiced towards you. I think now that I could say the same about you."

"Don't change the subject!" he points at me.

I sigh. Busted. "Look, you can't just force me to tell you stuff. All I can say is, I saw my family come apart because of long distance. I don't want this thing to happen with us."

He shakes his head and takes a seat opposite me. "That explains nothing."

I sigh. Again. "Look you told me you'll give me time remember? I just need more time." He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. He just sits beside me on the sofa again, putting the ice back on my leg. I stare at him, his perfect pitch is illuminated in the dim living room light. He looks tired and so do I. I feel exhausted from all the events of tonight.

I lean against him and take his hands on mine only to be greeted with the metallic smell of blood. "You are still bleeding?" I say and sit up straight, examining his knuckles. "You've got to clean your wounds."

He just shrugs. "It is fine. They will be back to normal by the morning."

"Are you kidding? We have got to clean this first." I say. "Go bring a wet towel." He's about to protest but one glare from me and he is up from his seat. Guess my glares don't only work on poor Blyton. As he takes his time, I can't help but think why Ian didn't tend to Nate's wounds himself. I mean, here I was, with only a sprain but Nate's knuckles were bleeding. And Ian, being a doctor, didn't even say a word about it. He must really hate Nate.

Speak of the devil. He sits back at the sofa with a towel and I gently rub each of his knuckles. "You do realize that you clearly overreacted tonight, right?"

"Overreacted how?" I want to laugh again. He really seems serious. Like he doesn't know what I mean.

"You overreacted by barreling over that poor guy. We were in a club. Dancing he clearly had no idea if I was taken or not." I keep the towel on the table when I feel like his wounds are thoroughly washed.

"You are seriously not taking that guy's side are you?" His voice is risen.

I want to bury myself in a corner. I can't take another fight. I speak as calmly as possible. "All I meant was, violence isn't the answer to everything. You have got to know that."

He doesn't answer me. Instead he leans forward and scoops me in his arms, his chin on my shoulder with my back to him. I think he understands what I mean. We sleep like that, unsettled hearts finding nothing else to do.

****

"You sure everything is really and actually completely alright?" I ask Shorty who nods. His expression seems genuine. I sigh in relief. I hate not being able to go to work. It's my tether to life. I don't even know what that means. "You are the only one I can trust, Shorty. Blyton excluded. Well, included." I say after a while.

He just laughs. Then he says something, but my focus is on the front door as it is starting to open slightly. I am ready with the saucepan by my side like Rapunzel in 'Tangled', if a burglar shows up. The door opens to reveal... Nate. I put the saucepan down.

"Hi princess!" His hands are full of groceries.

"What are these?" I ask, astonished at the huge bags he is carrying.

"Stuff." I snort. He laughs. "I will cook today." I choke on my breath as he keeps the bags down and walks towards me.

"Are you okay?" Shorty asks. I nod, still coughing and wave him a goodbye. After hanging up, I look up to see Nate handing me a glass full of crystal clear water. I drink a few mouthfuls and put the glass back on the living room table.

"Are you sure you will cook?" I had his food a few months ago and to put it mildly or rather sugarcoat it, the taste was disgusting.

He nods, exciting evident in his voice as he speaks. "I started seeing a few recipes in this new website and it really helped. I am sure I can make you a simple lasagna." I sigh. Nothing too tough. I just hope he doesn't burn my utensils.

I nod and we spend the next half hour with me mouthing instructions from the sofa. (Because the website doesn't help. Nate isn't a fast learner.) When the lasagna is in the oven, (finally!) he comes up and is about to take a seat beside me when the front doorbell rings. I am about to try to get up, but he puts a hand up, motioning me to stop.

He goes to answer the door instead and after a while, I hear him say, "What are you doing here?"

"Who is it?" I ask. The answer I get is unexpected.

I woke up 1 minute before class started and now I feel dead. Also, Hi!

Anyways, this chapter wasn't much, ik. So Ig i'll update chapter 16 sooner than expected. *wink*

This is it for today, pple. i am beat for some weird reason. Have a nice day and happy reading!!!

P.s. be ready for a BIG shock on chapter 16.