Kissed Cuts
You could feel the tension between the three boys. Murphy's shoulders were tight and his eyes glared darkly over at Wells, who stared back at him suspiciously. Bellamy kept a wary eye on both, in fear that another fight might breakout between the two…again.
You had asked Wells not to come, assured him that you were in good hands. Wells refused to believe that. He had always been overprotective of you – like an older brother – ever since the two of you were kids back on the Ark. But you were arrested. You were on Earth now. Everything had changed.
Bellamy and Murphy led you and Wells into the forest on a hunt. The camp wasn't running low on food, but you had decided to take extra precautions on a gut feeling.
"How can you trust them? How can you be on their side? They're criminals!" Wells whispered into your ear. You could see Murphy's eyes flash back at you. You knew he couldn't hear the two of you talking, but you could see the jealousy burning blue hot in his eyes.
"So are we, Wells. Have you forgotten?" you replied, whispering back. You watched as Murphy's grip on his knife tightened.
"You don't even know what they did," you continued.
"Exactly! What if they killed people? What if they're serial killers?" Wells's voice began to raise and you shoved his shoulder roughly for him to quiet down.
"They're not killers," you answered.
"How do you know for sure?"
"Because I asked," you frowned.
"They could have been lying," Wells's replies were quick. You began to walk faster, becoming annoyed with your old friend's paranoia. Before you could catch up with Bellamy and Murphy, there was a rustling in the bushes nearby and before you could turn to see what it was properly, you were mauled onto the forest floor and trampled on by hooves.
"Y/N!" Murphy shouted, running back for you. You rolled over, blood pouring from the fresh cut in your lip. You caught site of the raging boar that had just trampled over you. It was turning about to come back but Bellamy was about to attack, bringing his hatchet back to throw. The boar charged and bee-lined in your direction again, ready to attack, but you struggled to pull yourself up. Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind and threw you out of the way of the boar – which missed you by milliseconds. You were back on your feet. You turned to see Murphy had rescued you. You smiled pleasantly at him and he returned the smile.
Bellamy chucked his hatchet and it spun right into the boar's forehead. The beast ran a little longer before staggering to the ground – dead.
"Thank you," you looked into Murphy's eyes. His hands were still wrapped around your shoulders.
"Yeah, no problem," Murphy's smile was quickly fading as Wells approached them. The two of you turned to him and Wells quickly pushed Murphy off of your shoulders.
"What the hell?" Murphy shouted at him, moving toward Wells.
"Stay away from her," Wells warned. The two boys were inches apart. You had to do something. You pushed your way in between them, one hand on each of their chests.
"Enough, guys! Leave it alone!" you shouted.
"I didn't do anything!" Murphy shouted at Wells.
"Not yet, you didn't!"
"Wells, stop! Murphy just saved me. Why can't you just trust him?"
"Because he doesn't deserve to be trusted," Wells growled before he turned away to go help Bellamy with tying up the boar.
Murphy made to go after him, but you put both your hands on his chest to push him back.
"Murphy, stop. It's over. Please," you begged. His eyes lowered to yours and he saw the hurt expression on your face. He melted with sympathy as his eyebrows creased and his tense anger turned to sadness.
"Let's just go home," you pleaded - voice almost pathetic.
Murphy squeezed your hand and the two of you followed Bellamy and Wells back to camp in silence. You could sense Murphy's disheartened sense – his confusion.
Once back, you went to help Bellamy and Wells with the boar but Murphy ran off to his tent. You spotted him form the corner of your eyes angrily pull back the flap to his tent.
"Go," Bellamy urged you, "We'll be okay."
You turned to look at him, his eyes encouraging and kind. You smiled at him and turned back to head towards Murphy's tent. Wells didn't seem too thrilled – his gaze full of disapproval - but you didn't care. You pulled back the flap to Murphy's tent.
"Murphy?" you called in almost a whisper. He was sitting on the edge of his cot, head down. You sat down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder.
"Do you like him?" Murphy asked, his voice cracking.
"Wells? He's an old friend, but…no. Not like that," you explained.
Murphy's head turned slightly to the side so that you could see one of his eyes staring up at you, slightly teary.
"Hey, listen to me. I like you, you jerk," you smiled. You put a hand on the side of his face to pull it closer to yours and you laid a small kiss on his lips. You pulled back slightly, but Murphy quickly closed the gap as his lips came after yours with passionate kisses. He pushed you back onto the bed and climbed on top of you. He pulled his head back for a moment to look over your face. He placed a careful finger on the cut on your lip and frowned.
"I'll be fine," you assured him. He smiled again and kissed the cut gently, the sting prickled but it was a bad pain. You could tolerate it…especially for him.
