𝟖 | 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

                                    

                                          


I didn't talk to Damien at all yesterday, I never got to check up on him and see if the wound is okay. Living here, having too much empathy is something i'm going to have to lower but I can't help it, I did shoot him after all.
I pace back and forth past his bedroom door, this was a stupid idea. As i'm about to walk away Damien catches me. "What are you doing?" 
I feel so embarrassed and suddenly my throat is dry. "I was just... checking on you." I admit.
Damien raises an eyebrow, "Checking up on me? A hint of disbelief in his tone. He looks me up and down. "Why?" His voice steady, but a hint of curiosity in them. 
I feel my cheeks flush as I realise how ridiculous I probably look standing here awkwardly outside his hallway. "I shot you, and I guess I was wondering if the wound is doing okay." I mumble, avoiding eye contact at all costs. 
He looks at me for a long moment, he's completely unreadable. I can feel his look burning into me. "You don't shoot someone then ask if they're okay." He murmurs, slight amusement in his voice.
Part of me feels embarrassed, maybe he's right. I'm just making an embarrassment out of myself and making myself look more weak. We're not friends, he kidnapped me and has done numerous of horrible things like taking lives right before my eyes. I shouldn't feel bad but unfortunately, I do. I cough, "I guess you're right." 
As i'm walking away it doesn't feel right, I have to at least see his wound. "I'm sorry, but I feel too guilty." I walk towards him. "Can I see the wound?"
Damien rolls his eyes, not surprised. "Fine." He guides me into his bedroom, it's much cleaner than I expected, it's also quite dark.
"So.. Can I see?" I say to him as we're sitting on his bed. I feel nerves shoot up my body as I speak to him, I never know what his next move is. For all I know he could pull out a gun and get me next for what i've done.
He takes off his shirt and I instantly feel flustered, I wasn't expecting him to take off his shirt. "I.." I look at the wound and guilt washes over me. "Ouch." I mutter under my breath. 
I stand up as he's still sitting on the bed. I can see the wound and it's clear he didn't even bother to take care of it, it's not snitched up at all and there's no patch on it, no wonder why there's been a blood stain on his shirts. "You're not taking care of it?" The most he did was take out the bullet.
Damien shrugs, unbothered by my concern. "It'll heal on its own." 
I shake my head, feeling annoyed at his dismissive attitude towards his injury. "That's not how it works. You need to clean it at least, or it could get infected."
He looks at me with a smirk, seemingly amused by my fussing. "Are you worried about me, Cass?" 
I am slightly but I won't let him know that, and it's just because i'm a caring person, not that I happen to care about him. "Don't call me that." 
I let out a sigh, feeling like i'm going to regret helping him, even though it's something I wanted to do. "Where's your first aid kit?" 
Damien tilts his head over to the shelf on the right side of his room and I instantly see it and go get it. What confuses me is if it was right there the entire time, why didn't he clean it himself?