**
I hear someone struggling through my living room and I choose now to remember I didn't lock up after Lauren left. My movements are slow and deliberate as I reach beside me grab the baseball bat I keep there. Drawing the sheet off on me I ease out of bed and creep to the door, cracking it just a bit before easing it open. It's dark but I can tell it's Dana and I sigh with relief, she seems like her shoulder is slumped and she's dragging her book bag as she comes in.
Back from the club. The thought rest in the pit of my stomach as I head back to bed. I lean the bat against the nightstand and climb in bed. The club. She doesn't need to work there; she's too young, too . . .
A choked sob comes from the living room and I wonder if she's thinking about last night again. I couldn't talk to her last night but I will now. I climb back out of be and trip into a pair of pajama bottoms before I go and open the door.
And the light is on.
Oh, Dana.
**
I snap my eyes up to the doorway and Harry is standing there with an expression of complete shock. I just look back down and keep holding my tattered, green shirt to my bare chest as my right hand holds the tank top.
"What happened?" he asks as he rushes in and kneels in front of me as I sit on the coffee table.
"I got robbed and he had a knife," I answer simply, dropping the tank to wipe under my nose where I realized the second blow hit, giving me a bloody nose. The looks I got on the way here were not too bad considering I tried to stay out of the streetlights at every opportunity.
"Your shoulder," he says in a deep voce that's protective and concerned and makes me feel better.
I look to where his eyes are trained; you can see it perfectly now since I took off my top, trying to access the damage myself. I hold the ruined fabric to my breasts as I become acutely aware of how little I have on.
"Dana . . ."
"I got robbed," I repeat before looking into his eyes with a bit of humor. "And I didn't like it."
"You fought back?"
"I had to."
"No, you didn't have to, who cares about the money, Dana, you could have been killed."
He doesn't sound mad at me really, he's mad that it happened and I don't blame him, I'm upset too. He's grabbing the tank top from my lap he holds it to the cut and cups my face.
"We have to call to the police."
That is not going to happen.
"That is not going to happen."
"What? You were hurt, you have to call the police."
"Harry," I say softly and it makes him pause and stare me in the eye. "We can't . . . it happened outside of the club and . . . and I'm underage, I don't turn eighteen for a couple days."
"It doesn't matter--"
"Yes it does. I don't want anyone to know. Please!" I can feel the tears running down my face and it's the first time, I didn't even cry when my shoulder started to burn on the way home.
He breathes deep and wipes away my tears with his thumb, "At least go to the hospital."
I sniffle a little and shake my head; "I'm okay."
"Dana--"
"I'm okay."
**
She's okay, yeah; the bloody nose, swollen cheek, and bleeding shoulder must have fooled me. She must have known from my expression that I wasn't about to agree.
"Let me take a shower and if it's that bad then I'll go, okay?"
"I don't know."
"I want to get cleaned up anyway."
She's giving me that doe-eyed look that's pleading and I nod my head. Okay but when you come out I want to see the damage and *I* decide if we have to go and none of your 'Oh, it's fine, don't worry,' got it?"
She nods and starts to stand, wincing a bit before I grab her waist, feeling the soft skin of the only non-bruised spot from what I can see, her legs are covered with scrapes. I let her ahead of me and hold her waist from the back, keeping her close and getting a view of the brownish, dry blood that covers her left back. I guide her all the way to the bathroom door before I let go.
"There are some towels in there so . . ."
"Thanks," she says quietly before softly closing the door in my face.
**
It hurts when the water hits my shoulder, but it's better than going to a hospital and having all the doctors poking at me. If I angle myself just a little it won't hit directly and . . . Ah. That's it. It still stings but it isn't as bad as when the sweat was touching while I tried to get here.
I think I'll be okay, I didn't look in the mirror when I came in because I didn't want to see how bad it was but I think it'll by okay when I get out.
**
My head has been in my hands for the past ten minutes she's been in there and I still don't know what to do. I was here, fucking Lauren while she was getting attacked and, even though I know all the bullshit about how I couldn't have known, it doesn't make me feel like any less of a prick. And the bed. I want her to sleep on the bed tonight, and every night she wants but not with the remnants of Lauren and I on the sheets.
I get up and try to find something else but after pulling through the drawers I only find one sheet. It's something. I strip off the bed and lay it down, fresh and blue. In the living room is her pillow and I bring it back to lay it on the bed . . . her pillow. I can't think when it became hers when there are more stressing issues involving her. Involving Dana and being hurt . . . I feel . . . I feel like I can't lose --
"Harry?"
I turn and she's standing there, I hadn't even heard the door open. Her right cheek is swollen and slightly purple but she's still Dana, Dana with the beautiful eyes and beautiful lips. Dana with the broken expression a few days ago, Dana with the lightened smile when I said she could stay, Dana with the bright red left shoulder and calm demeanor that's somehow making me more at ease when I'm supposed to be helping her.
"Come here."
She obliges maybe because she sees how desperate I am. Walking forward slowly she tightens her hold on the towel and I look to that spot, feeling sick with myself because even though I said we could forget I still remember her body and the way she moved when she looked at me.
Her wet hair is gathered to spill over the right side of her neck I brush my fingers the other side of the pale column just to make sure no strands would be in my view of her cut. That's when she sucked in her breath.
**
His fingers hesitate and he looks at me before going back to the cut. He steps to my side and he's towering over me, inspecting the cut while his warm breath falls on me. I'm breathing heavier as the seconds pass and I hope he thinks it's because of the pain or . . . something. Because we have to be friends now, strictly friends. We said we would forget.
He traces a path next to the line and I'm already relived to know it isn't that bad. After some trying angles in the bathroom mirror I could see that it wasn't as severe, already sealing up and not nearly as deep as I thought. I think the bastard got scared and just blindly struck out, I think that makes me lucky.
"How's it look?" I ask even if I know. "I put some of that antibacterial stuff on it. That stuff in the tube."
"Pretty good."
"Good," I whisper. I can tell he's watching me, just staring down so intense that I'm starting to feel a flush of feeling through my body even though my shoulder hurts and my cheek is throbbing. If I turned to him I could kiss him but I'm not going to because I said we would just be friends and I won't go back on that, I won't go back on what I said to him.
"Do you feel okay?" he asks in a voice that makes me wish he would act on the tone there, but I know he won't and it's for the best.
"Just sleepy."
Out of the corner of my eye he nods and backs away and I breathe out a breath I seemed to be holding even if I didn't know it.
"You can sleep in here tonight - or however long you need to."
He backs away and goes to escape from the tension filling the room.
"Thank you . . . Harry."
**
Harry . . . Harry . . . what is wrong with me? I was so close to her, so worried and I wanted to hug her but I didn't . . .
I didn't want her to push me away.
I look at the corner of the couch and see the neatly folded sheet. First I go to the kitchen, grabbing the frozen peas that I don't remember buying and then picking up the sheet for Dana, taking it to the door and knocking lightly. She opens it just a little.
"A sheet to, um, to sleep, and for your face."
Her full lips turn up a little and she takes them, drawing both to her. "Thank you."
**
I hear someone struggling through my living room and I choose now to remember I didn't lock up after Lauren left. My movements are slow and deliberate as I reach beside me grab the baseball bat I keep there. Drawing the sheet off on me I ease out of bed and creep to the door, cracking it just a bit before easing it open. It's dark but I can tell it's Dana and I sigh with relief, she seems like her shoulder is slumped and she's dragging her book bag as she comes in.
Back from the club. The thought rest in the pit of my stomach as I head back to bed. I lean the bat against the nightstand and climb in bed. The club. She doesn't need to work there; she's too young, too . . .
A choked sob comes from the living room and I wonder if she's thinking about last night again. I couldn't talk to her last night but I will now. I climb back out of be and trip into a pair of pajama bottoms before I go and open the door.
And the light is on.
Oh, Dana.
**
I snap my eyes up to the doorway and Harry is standing there with an expression of complete shock. I just look back down and keep holding my tattered, green shirt to my bare chest as my right hand holds the tank top.
"What happened?" he asks as he rushes in and kneels in front of me as I sit on the coffee table.
"I got robbed and he had a knife," I answer simply, dropping the tank to wipe under my nose where I realized the second blow hit, giving me a bloody nose. The looks I got on the way here were not too bad considering I tried to stay out of the streetlights at every opportunity.
"Your shoulder," he says in a deep voce that's protective and concerned and makes me feel better.
I look to where his eyes are trained; you can see it perfectly now since I took off my top, trying to access the damage myself. I hold the ruined fabric to my breasts as I become acutely aware of how little I have on.
"Dana . . ."
"I got robbed," I repeat before looking into his eyes with a bit of humor. "And I didn't like it."
"You fought back?"
"I had to."
"No, you didn't have to, who cares about the money, Dana, you could have been killed."
He doesn't sound mad at me really, he's mad that it happened and I don't blame him, I'm upset too. He's grabbing the tank top from my lap he holds it to the cut and cups my face.
"We have to call to the police."
That is not going to happen.
"That is not going to happen."
"What? You were hurt, you have to call the police."
"Harry," I say softly and it makes him pause and stare me in the eye. "We can't . . . it happened outside of the club and . . . and I'm underage, I don't turn eighteen for a couple days."
"It doesn't matter--"
"Yes it does. I don't want anyone to know. Please!" I can feel the tears running down my face and it's the first time, I didn't even cry when my shoulder started to burn on the way home.
He breathes deep and wipes away my tears with his thumb, "At least go to the hospital."
I sniffle a little and shake my head; "I'm okay."
"Dana--"
"I'm okay."
**
She's okay, yeah; the bloody nose, swollen cheek, and bleeding shoulder must have fooled me. She must have known from my expression that I wasn't about to agree.
"Let me take a shower and if it's that bad then I'll go, okay?"
"I don't know."
"I want to get cleaned up anyway."
She's giving me that doe-eyed look that's pleading and I nod my head. Okay but when you come out I want to see the damage and *I* decide if we have to go and none of your 'Oh, it's fine, don't worry,' got it?"
She nods and starts to stand, wincing a bit before I grab her waist, feeling the soft skin of the only non-bruised spot from what I can see, her legs are covered with scrapes. I let her ahead of me and hold her waist from the back, keeping her close and getting a view of the brownish, dry blood that covers her left back. I guide her all the way to the bathroom door before I let go.
"There are some towels in there so . . ."
"Thanks," she says quietly before softly closing the door in my face.
**
It hurts when the water hits my shoulder, but it's better than going to a hospital and having all the doctors poking at me. If I angle myself just a little it won't hit directly and . . . Ah. That's it. It still stings but it isn't as bad as when the sweat was touching while I tried to get here.
I think I'll be okay, I didn't look in the mirror when I came in because I didn't want to see how bad it was but I think it'll by okay when I get out.
**
My head has been in my hands for the past ten minutes she's been in there and I still don't know what to do. I was here, fucking Lauren while she was getting attacked and, even though I know all the bullshit about how I couldn't have known, it doesn't make me feel like any less of a prick. And the bed. I want her to sleep on the bed tonight, and every night she wants but not with the remnants of Lauren and I on the sheets.
I get up and try to find something else but after pulling through the drawers I only find one sheet. It's something. I strip off the bed and lay it down, fresh and blue. In the living room is her pillow and I bring it back to lay it on the bed . . . her pillow. I can't think when it became hers when there are more stressing issues involving her. Involving Dana and being hurt . . . I feel . . . I feel like I can't lose --
"Harry?"
I turn and she's standing there, I hadn't even heard the door open. Her right cheek is swollen and slightly purple but she's still Dana, Dana with the beautiful eyes and beautiful lips. Dana with the broken expression a few days ago, Dana with the lightened smile when I said she could stay, Dana with the bright red left shoulder and calm demeanor that's somehow making me more at ease when I'm supposed to be helping her.
"Come here."
She obliges maybe because she sees how desperate I am. Walking forward slowly she tightens her hold on the towel and I look to that spot, feeling sick with myself because even though I said we could forget I still remember her body and the way she moved when she looked at me.
Her wet hair is gathered to spill over the right side of her neck I brush my fingers the other side of the pale column just to make sure no strands would be in my view of her cut. That's when she sucked in her breath.
**
His fingers hesitate and he looks at me before going back to the cut. He steps to my side and he's towering over me, inspecting the cut while his warm breath falls on me. I'm breathing heavier as the seconds pass and I hope he thinks it's because of the pain or . . . something. Because we have to be friends now, strictly friends. We said we would forget.
He traces a path next to the line and I'm already relived to know it isn't that bad. After some trying angles in the bathroom mirror I could see that it wasn't as severe, already sealing up and not nearly as deep as I thought. I think the bastard got scared and just blindly struck out, I think that makes me lucky.
"How's it look?" I ask even if I know. "I put some of that antibacterial stuff on it. That stuff in the tube."
"Pretty good."
"Good," I whisper. I can tell he's watching me, just staring down so intense that I'm starting to feel a flush of feeling through my body even though my shoulder hurts and my cheek is throbbing. If I turned to him I could kiss him but I'm not going to because I said we would just be friends and I won't go back on that, I won't go back on what I said to him.
"Do you feel okay?" he asks in a voice that makes me wish he would act on the tone there, but I know he won't and it's for the best.
"Just sleepy."
Out of the corner of my eye he nods and backs away and I breathe out a breath I seemed to be holding even if I didn't know it.
"You can sleep in here tonight - or however long you need to."
He backs away and goes to escape from the tension filling the room.
"Thank you . . . Harry."
**
Harry . . . Harry . . . what is wrong with me? I was so close to her, so worried and I wanted to hug her but I didn't . . .
I didn't want her to push me away.
I look at the corner of the couch and see the neatly folded sheet. First I go to the kitchen, grabbing the frozen peas that I don't remember buying and then picking up the sheet for Dana, taking it to the door and knocking lightly. She opens it just a little.
"A sheet to, um, to sleep, and for your face."
Her full lips turn up a little and she takes them, drawing both to her. "Thank you."
**
