Take two!

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Disclaimer: I don't own Junjou Romantica

-JR-JR-JR-

I woke up an hour later, according to my phone, with a pounding headache and a throbbing arm. I steeled myself and looked down at the blood mess of my forearm. Most of the blood around the cuts had dried, but my red lifeblood was still oozing slowly out of them and dripping down the side to the floor. I slowly, painfully pulled my sleeve down over the gashes, grimacing when the drag of the fabric made them twinge. As gently and slowly as possible, I pulled myself to my feet with minimal dizziness. It didn't take long to figure out where Haitani had taken me, which was startlingly close to the penthouse. I doubted that was a coincidence. I made my way out of the building and into the strangely sunny day. It had been cloudy and rolling with thunder not long before.

What would have been a ten minute walk to Akihiko's apartment complex became a thirty minute walk due to the near constant breaks and stumbling walk I had taken to due to blood loss. The pain in my right arm was almost blinding, pulsing in agony every few seconds. I held it tightly against my stomach in a weak attempt to keep the pain at bay. I knew without looking that the wounds would need stitches, but that wouldn't be a problem. I'd had to stitch cuts up with less than what Akihiko kept at his apartment, which was honestly abysmal. The only first aid supplies he kept in his bathroom were a pack of thirty band-aids, a small tube of antibiotic cream, a couple rolls of gauze, and a small suturing kit. I was surprised the man hadn't killed died yet.

It was only when I arrived at the building, standing outside of it, that it occurred that Akihiko might be in the penthouse waiting for me to return. If he was, there was no way he'd miss the still slightly bleeding wounds on my arm. He was much too perceptive to miss the pain in my eyes and the way I was holding my arm protectively to myself. I groaned to myself when I realized I had no choice but to go up, as there was nowhere else for me to go. Slowly, I trudged my way up to the apartment, dread forming a lead ball in my stomach.

By the time I reached the front door of the penthouse and had my key in the lock I was a wreck. I couldn't let Akihiko find out what happened. I couldn't let him get involved. This was my problem and I would have to deal with it myself. With a small grimace, I pushed the front door open with my left hand, the hinges blessedly silent as the door swung inward. I carefully stepped inside, listening and looking for any sign of someone in the living room or kitchen. Thankfully there were no sounds, and from my limited perspective I could see no one. I closed the door silently behind me, wincing as the lock made a deafening clicking sound in the silent apartment.

I stepped into the living room and found no one, only Suzuki sitting on the pink couch, watching with dead, beady eyes. I moved as soundlessly as possible up the stairs, checking under every door for light or movement. When I found no evidence of a lurking author, I slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind me. Kneeling down in front of the sink, I pulled the cabinet doors open and pulled the 'first-aid kit' out of the bare cabinet.

I made quick work of cleaning my right arm of blood with toilet paper, not wanting to risk Akihiko finding a bloody rag later on. I threw the red stained paper in the toilet, then pulled out the suturing kit. I went as quickly as I could, making small noises of pain when the tugging of the thread made the wounds twinge. I was done soon after and disposed of the now used kit, hiding it beneath other trash in the bin. I wrapped my arm up tightly, hoping against all hope that the white haired man wouldn't notice any limited movement in the arm.

I flushed the toilet, removing any evidence of blood from the bathroom, and moved down the hallway into my room. As I was pulling on a fresh, black long sleeved t-shirt, I heard the front door open and frantic footsteps move up the stairs. Doors opened, and the rooms were searched for me-at least that's what I assumed. I pulled the shirt down quickly as my bedroom door flew open and a worry-worn Akihiko stepped through. Thankful that my bloody shirt was dark blue and therefore hid most evidence of the stains, I met the author's relieved gaze.

I wasn't sure what to say to the strangely vulnerable expression on the older man's face, so I stayed silent and allowed him to speak first. When he did, his voice was slightly hoarse and oddly soft.

"Misaki," he breathed, and Akihiko quickly gathered me into his arms. Anger surged through me and, despite the pain in my right arm, I shoved Akihiko away from me roughly. The man stumbled back, more out of shock than the shove. I hated to admit it but I was painfully weak in that moment.

"Don't fucking touch me," I snarled. With Haitani's attack so fresh, I probably wouldn't have been able to stand even my brother's touch. "I know you think that, because you have feelings for me, you can act like you're still my boyfriend, but I think you'll find that you're wrong. I don't think you get it, Akihiko. We aren't together anymore, and we haven't been for years. Years, Akihiko. You betrayed me. You left me for another man, and then came back years later flaunting him. You gave up any rights you had to treating me like you used to a long, long time ago."

Hurt flashed in the author's eyes before he masked it with a blank mask. "I thought you were starting to trust me," he said lamely. If it were any other situation, I might have commended myself for making the Usami practically speechless. But, as it was, I found no satisfaction in the sad response. Only frustration and anger.

"Dammit, Usagi!" I snapped, then gritted my teeth at the slip-up. Akihiko looked stunned almost beyond belief. I began speaking again, quieter this time. "I told you I needed time, didn't I? A few weeks isn't enough time to build up the trust you tore down the day you left. You left all the trust I had for you as dust at the bottom of the stairs while I laid there sobbing. You were all I had, Akihiko. Yeah, maybe my brother was there, and Sumi and Ijuuin and Todo. But you were the only one I was completely open with, completely trusting with. You spat that back in my face. You ran away like a coward instead of facing me like the man I thought you were. You'd be lucky if you could earn even half that trust back after that bullshit."

The white haired man stared into my eyes silently. After a few moments, he began talking, voice full of guilt and pain. "I'm so sorry, Misaki. You're right, I was a coward. I should have told you to your face, instead of leaving a meagre message with Aikawa and not contacting you. I regret the way I acted, and I'm trying to fix that." I looked into his earnest amethyst eyes and nostalgia filled me. He used to tell me he loved me with those exact same eyes so long before. I shook the feeling off.

I sighed, suddenly exhausted. "I'm tired, Akihiko. Can I please go to sleep?" But he wasn't paying attention to my words anymore. His eyes were on my arm. Glancing down, I realized I'd been scratching my wrist without noticing, shifting my sleeve up and revealing part of the bandage. I cursed the old habit in my mind.

Hurriedly I pulled the sleeve back down and turned away, but Akihiko was having none of it. He grabbed my right arm and pushed the sleeve up to the crease of my elbow to look at the whole of my forearm. I noticed that there was a little bit of blood showing through where the wounds bled. I tried to pull away but the author tightened his grip, making me wince.

"Let me go," I said weakly, still trying to get out of his grip.

"No, Misaki!" Akihiko snapped. "Hugging you and kissing you and confessing to you is one thing, but this is your health. Did you do this to yourself?! Did you cut again?!"

I clenched my teeth, mind searching frantically for a lie that would pass the man's too perceptive eyes. Before I could come up with even a wisp of an excuse, Akihiko began undoing the bandage. He was still gripping my arm tightly, restricting my ability to stop him. I closed my eyes tightly as the gauze fell away. The Usami's breath hitched in shock. "What is this?" he breathed, fingers grazing gently over the stitches and causing them to twinge in pain. "Who did this?!" the man said, voice much stronger.

I opened my mouth to respond, and at that moment, the phone rang.

-JR-JR-JR-

Cliff hanger! I hope you guys liked the heavily edited version of this chapter :3 Please let me know what you think

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~O'Malley out!