Silver Lining

                                    

                                          
"Hi." Kit smiled weakly, it looked as if it hurt, the slit in the side of his cheek was pulling open. Theo stated widely at the fresh black eye, and the blood that sloped down into it, Kit was blinking rapidly trying to keep it out, using his lashes to brush it away. His hair stuck to his forehead, his nose was slit open and blood pooled down his mouth. His breath was shaky and broken, like every intake of breath was a shard of glass to his lungs. He looked as if he was about to collapse. He was limping, eyes bloodshot, a cut in his head so deep it seemed to need stitches. 
                          
"Kit what the fuck-" 
                          
"Can I come in?" He heaved out, looking around the door. He had no shoes on, this time no socks on either. His feet had gone a bright red, nearing on purple. His tooth was chipped. There were bruises of handprints wrapped around his wrists. 
                          
Theo decided not to ask what had happened, he'd pieced the puzzle together in his head. Kit sat, head bent completely over on the sofa. 
                          
Theo arrived in with an bag of frozen peas and a roll of bandages, along with antiseptic wipes and painkillers his mother stored in a locked cupboard. 
                          
He held Kit's chin in his hands softly and smiled at him, slowly wiping the wipe over the cuts and freezing anytime Kit would flinch. There were tears building it Kit's eyes and it hurt Theo not to cry too. He left the cut on Kit's forehead, it was way too deep for him to treat. He handed Kit the icepack, but his hands were shaking too much to take it. Theo placed it over his ribs, trying to ignore the other flinch. 
                          
He knew Kit's father was awful, but this was the worst. Kit was unrecognisable. 
                          
"Theo who was at the door it's two in the-" Mrs Sheih paused, she quickly unraveled the plaid blanket she had wrapped around herself and came over, wrapping it around Kit's shoulders, "Whats happened, baby?" She stroked his hair and pointed Theo over to the kitchen to get the first aid box, "Firash can stitch this up for you okay?" 
                          
Kit buried his head into the crook of her neck and cried. 
                          
He tried to control his breathing but a sob ripped right through his throat. Theo felt his eyes well up as he stayed back, fumbling with his own hands. Mrs. Sheih wrapped Kit tighter, "You're alright." She whispered, "You're alright here."
                          
It was so quick, usually Kit would have to build up the courage to do it but this time it just fell. It's like he melted at the touch of Mrs. Sheih. The words of his father still ricocheting in the backs of his head, ringing persistently. He wasn't sure they'd ever go away. 
                          
He knew that randomly, throughout the course of his life they'd show but up. The feeling of firsts and kicks, and even worse the words. 
                          
Kit gripped on the plaid blanket, holding on the intricacies of it as if it was the only thing keeping it alive. 
                          
Theo fought the urge to go back to the couch and hug him too, but he had to go and get the box. 
                          
Theo's father rushed urgently down the stairs, his glasses slipping down his face from his nightly reading, Firash stared at his wife for a moment, a look of tired worry contorted across his face. She smiled weakly and somehow he understood. 
                          
Theo placed the box into his hands and he ran into the living room, eyes spread with concern mixed in with a little bit of confusion. 
                          
Theo squatted down on the floor in front of the couch, his hands tightly wrapped around Kit's who now had his head cupped in Mr. Sheih's hands while he stitched the cut together carefully. Anytime Kit would flinch Mrs. Sheih would stroke the top of his head and Theo would gently brush the tips of his fingers over Kit's hand. 
                          
His father explained how he had cracked a rib. He tried to get Kit to go to the emergency room, which he refused, explaining his friend had cracked a rib during a football match once and managed to heal at home. Firash said if he felt extreme pain he would drag him to the hospital by a strand of his hair, and he'd be checking on him every minute to make sure it wasn't getting worse.