19 His Scent
1305 Words
He nodded. “I can’t see the wound on my abdomen. Harper, you’re the only one who can help me.”
“What if I screw it up?”
My mind was totally blank. My hands holding the forceps were ice-cold, trembling. I just couldn’t do it.
I shook my head painfully. “I can’t... I’m really scared...”
He grabbed my hand, hard enough that it hurt. The gentleness and vulnerability from just now seemed like an illusion—he’d turned back into the domineering tyrant.
He shoved the knife into my hand, forcing me to look at him. “Harper, if you don’t take out the bullet, I’ll die tonight. I’m giving my life into your hands. If you don’t want to do it, kill me now—otherwise, I’ll bring trouble to you.”
I forgot how to breathe, forgot the fear, just staring at him, stunned. This guy...
“You’re forcing me!”
“Yes, I am! You don’t have a choice—either save me or kill me!”
That snapped my rational mind back in place. Somehow, I was completely calm now, despite feeling like even the slightest misstep could make me fall apart.
I pinched my leg hard, the sharp pain keeping my mind alert. “You’re such a jerk!”
I pushed him down on the bed, tying his limbs to the bedposts with the sheets, then shoved the towel back in his mouth.
Carefully, I used the forceps to dig through his wound. I found the bullet! I clamped down on it and pulled it out. All I could see was red, everything else was just a blur.
I didn’t know if there were any fragments left, but from what I could tell, it seemed like I got it all.
Finally, I grabbed the suture needle and the clear fishing line. It took all my willpower to start stitching his wound. I tried my best to keep my hands from shaking—after all, I was piercing a needle through human skin, not fabric. I had no idea what kept me going to finish the job.
The stitches were messy, but at least they were done.
I packed everything away, collapsing weakly onto his legs, feeling completely drained.
“Marco?”
His eyes were closed, and there was no reaction.
Panic gripped my heart instantly. My legs were too numb from kneeling for so long, and I couldn’t get up.
Afraid of hurting his wound, I could only grab his hand. “Marco? Wake up...”
His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine... Does it still hurt?” Seeing him wake up, I didn’t even have time to wipe away my tears, just holding his hand tightly.
“Don’t fall asleep, okay? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? I got the bullet out.”
He seemed like he wanted to lift his hand, but the movement pulled at his wound—or maybe it was because I was leaning on his legs—so I tried to get up.
But my legs were too numb, and I fell to the floor.
“Ah!”
He reached out, pulling me back.
“Shh!”
I covered my mouth, fear and pain mixing inside me. Was someone out there? Could they be the people who were after Marco?
I held my breath. It sounded like there really was someone downstairs.
He reached over and turned off the lamp. Thankfully, I’d already dimmed it earlier, so turning it off didn’t draw attention.
He used his right hand to pull the bloodstained blanket over both of us, and the noises outside immediately grew muffled.
In that moment, this small blanket became a tiny world of its own.
The arm holding me tightened. I didn’t know how someone so badly hurt could still have this much strength, but strangely, being closer to him made me feel safer.
There was still a faint scent of blood on him, mixed with the lingering scent beads I loved on the blanket. The two smells merged together in this small, warm space.
I stayed still, afraid to move. After about fifteen minutes, my neck got uncomfortable from the angle, and I tried shifting slowly. Suddenly, Marco let out a muffled groan.
I didn’t know what I’d touched, and I didn’t dare speak up, so I moved closer to him, whispering, “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, and I got worried. Had I touched another wound?
I reached out to feel around, but as soon as I did, I realized where I had touched. When I’d lifted my head earlier, my lips had brushed against something hard, but I hadn’t paid it much mind. Now, as my hand moved in the dark, I traced the outline of his chest.
Embarrassed, I quickly pulled my hand back, saying nothing, but the hand that had touched him felt burning hot.
“Harper, what are you even doing?” I silently cursed myself.
Would he think I was some kind of p.ervert? He stayed silent, and I started wondering if he was mad.
In the darkness, every sense was heightened. My heart was in chaos, which helped me calm down from the tension.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Startled, I pressed myself close against him. The arm around my waist tightened in reassurance, but I still couldn’t relax.
In the quiet, I heard a faint sigh.
The next moment, he shifted. The movement wasn’t subtle, and I was scared out of my mind, worried the people outside would notice.
Now, we are face to face. His breathing was calm; mine was rushed and anxious.
“Relax. They’re listening,” he whispered.
His words had the opposite effect—I just got more nervous.
I hated how bad I was at staying calm. I couldn’t relax at all, and just when I thought I’d freeze from the fear, something warm covered my lips.
The familiar scent surrounded me—it was his lips.
Suddenly, memories of that kiss by the beach rushed back. Every time there was danger, he’d kiss me. And his kisses, somehow, were like a cure for my panic.
I knew I should push him away. This was wrong.
But the danger outside made me crave the fleeting feeling of safety in that moment.
The smell of blood and scent beads mixed more intensely under the blanket, the heat and the lack of air merging with the life-and-death threat outside, all melting into that deep kiss.
I hated how my body betrayed me, because in just those few seconds, I realized I had no control over my own reactions.
I liked his kiss.
Our tongues tangled, and my chaotic heartbeat started calming down. It was like some kind of spell, making me crave more of his scent.
I didn’t know if the noise outside had gone away; my mind was blank except for the sudden kiss. After what felt like forever, he finally pulled away from me, and I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of air.
His lips brushed against the corner of my mouth. “Sleep.”
There was something about his voice—it made me do exactly as he said, and I fell asleep in his arms.
My sleep wasn’t restful. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly, and realized I was alone.
It was still dark outside, so I hadn’t slept for very long.
If it weren’t for the changed blankets, I might have thought the whole thing was just a strange, absurd dream.
So, was I safe now?
The bathroom door opened, and he walked out, sitting by my bed. The lamp was turned on, casting a soft light across the room.
- Writer
