Disclaimer: I do not own RE.
Claire had followed Wesker through the hallways she was just running through only moments ago. Why she had accepted his curt hand was beyond her. Her mind reeled about, escape on her brain. Right now the chances of that seemed very slim, in fact, it would be downright foolish to try and escape now.
Claire realized that a large cut on her shoulder had been bleeding all over her, a cut from something. She tried to place her finger on how it happened but was stopped when they reached a door and Wesker proceeded to unlock it.
He led her into the room and it turned out to be a bedroom. He sat her down on the bed and went into the extension bathroom, she heard the sink running and cabinets opening. He came back with a first aid box and a bowl with warm water and a washcloth.
He sat beside her, rolling up her sleeve and Claire winced from the pain but did not recoil from his touch like she would have.
"Let me clean that up for you," He said quietly, washing away the blood that dripped from her pale skin.
"Why did you save me, Wesker?"
He pulled surgical thread from the first aid box and a needle. "I don't know."
Claire wasn't satisfied with the answer but she wasn't going to get much more with force, she would allow him to be the way he was, just this moment. He wiped the crimson blood from her wound, gaining a wince from her.
"Hold still," He commanded. Wesker got up and stalked over to the side table drawer. He removed a switchblade and a silver Zippo lighter.
"What are you doing with that?" Claire asked nervously, eyeing the tools.
"I have to disinfect the wound… or this will turn out to be much more painful." He sat down again and flipped open the lighter. He flicked the knife out and held it against the flame, heating the sterling silver.
Claire looked down at the floor as Wesker heated the blade.
"This is going to hurt but only momentarily, Dearheart." Claire clutched his black button down shirt in her fists and closed her eyes. Wesker pressed the knife against her wound and Claire let out a sharp cry, squeezing his shirt fiercely. Tears stung her eyes and she let them free as he circled the blade around the mangled skin.
"Shhh…" He cooed. "I know it hurts but I'm almost done."
Claire let her head fall onto his shoulder, still balling her fists in his shirt. He was done disinfecting her cut and then threaded the surgical needle, rubbing the wound with the warm washcloth. He pierced her flesh and gained a small whimper from her while he moved it through the skin, closing it up.
Why am I doing this for her? What happened to killing the wretched girl and then getting on with your life?
"Wesker…" Claire whimpered and gripped the back of his neck with her other hand, clutching his blonde hair tightly.
"There," He stated. "All done."
Claire detangled herself from him and bore her eyes into his. The fire that engulfed her was sending shivers down her spine, and Claire could have sworn she saw a flint of blue in the ocean of blood that were Albert Wesker's eyes.
"Thank you…"
"You're welcome, Claire."
Her eyes again fell to the floor, staring at his shoes. She felt his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her face to look at him. Claire reached out and ghosted her fingers down his cheek, feeling the slight shadow of a beard there. He made a deep, throaty growl, almost like a purr when her hand reached his neck. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she seemed to notice Wesker leaning towards her and to her surprise, she was also. Her eyes avoided his and instead searched his handsome face, trying her hardest not to make eye-contact with him.
Their lips touched and Claire's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she whimpered softly.
Their breath coming through nostrils, Claire's hands roaming the plains of his chiseled chest, Wesker wrapping his hand at the nape of her neck, and uses his other to run his fingers through her hair.
Claire fell back onto the bed, now kissing his neck, his hands running up her arms.
"Claire…"
Wesker pulled away from her and moved to the side of the bed, sitting up, rubbing his face in his hands.
"Wesker, what's wrong?" He turned to face her, and caressed her cheek.
"That," He said quietly. "You are you and I am me. I can't get rid of this blasted feeling. I've never felt like this before, Claire. You, your very presence sends me spiraling. I can't focus on anything but you and when I see you I get enraged yet, happy. I don't know what's going on."
"Same here…" Claire confessed. "You're like a machine and I find you utterly intriguing. I… I'm afraid of you but at the same time, I want to feel that fear."
Wesker crawled back into the bed, pulling Claire into his chest, holding her face in between his hands, running his thumb over the lost tear. "I can prove it to you, Dearheart."
"Prove what?"
"That I can still be… affectionate."
Claire smiled and kissed his nose, "Deal."
A/N: AWWWW! FIRST KISS!
