*TW* BLOOD PAIN & SOME GORY DETAIL!
His blood.
There was more blood on him, he was covered in it, some was his own, and some was not. It was like he came out of a war zone. She knew she didn't imagine seeing him in this state last night, which meant he'd been here for the last 6 hours, staying alive by a thread.
Why didn't he patch this up?
Whatever was the source of his bleeding though was draining the life out of him. It hadn't stopped bleeding and judging by the way he was unconscious and unresponsive; he wasn't going to stay alive much longer.
Walk away.
He wasn't even in the right state of mind to know if she was here or not and no one was in the castle to know. Timmy, Tecna and Digit had all left. She could just walk out of the room and let him bleed to death, then all this would be over. She would have killed him and avenged her father, her kingdom and the rebellion.
She forced her body to take a step back away. But if he dies, she will die with him. Stella bit her lip weighing her options. It's a small price to pay for removing Andreas' key player from the game.
It was a gamble she was considering taking.
With High Commander out of the question, whatever happens to the sceptre in her death was the only risk to this plan.
She took another step back as she receded from him and quickly turned around, avoiding the sight of his blood over the rug and floor. She bit her lip and darted her eyes throughout the room, one more look at him and she knew she would succumb to her morals.
She could walk back to her room now and pretend she saw none of this. It wouldn't be her problem when the dark curse killed her too. She gazed at him over her shoulder, telling herself over and over again that the Brandon Silver who lay dying was not the same Brandon she loved before.
The same Brandon who saved her life in the garden.
He wasn't that same boy. He wasn't…
Dammit. Dammit all.
She skidded in her step as she frantically ran back to his unconscious body. If he dies, she would die with him and her beloved Solaria would still be under the tyranny of Andreas. Killing Brandon was only a stepping stone in her vengeance, she had to live to free her people.
She couldn't die yet which meant he couldn't either!
Her frantic eyes ran across his hunched-over body, ducking to observe where he was bleeding. The blood was dripping from his midriff but from the way he was laying on the desk, it was difficult to pinpoint where.
"Come on Brandon, move for me," She whispered more to herself, pushing up on his shoulders to get him to lay back on the chair. She needed to know what was causing that injury for it to keep bleeding if she wanted him to stay alive but she couldn't see anything with his armour in the way.
"Shit shit shit!" Stella cursed, seeing more of the red colour staining his left side. He groaned, the blood loss keeping him from even opening his eyes as she pushed his back against the chair. His breathing was as weak as his pulse, "Hey, look at me!" She yelled frantically, cupping his face to turn his head to face her.
His hair was matted to his forehead from the sweat. Streaks of maroon blood tainted his now pale skin on his face, but he was not opening his eyes. She could barely even see the wound on his side with how black the armour was. She pulled the shoulder plates off quickly, standing in front of him as she worked her way down to the straps holding the chest piece.
"Come on, come on!" She whispered, tossing each piece onto the floor. He had a skin-tight t-shirt underneath that was drenched in thick red liquid but she could see where the injury was bleeding. Just under his left ribcage.
Stella didn't hesitate to rip open the top, revealing his bare upper body. Pulling off the fabric from his t-shirt she used it as a cloth to wipe the excess blood from the injury to get a better look at it.
A bullet wound.
How the fuck did he get shot?!
Brandon let out a pained groan, his body reacting to her touch subconsciously. She could see the fresh blood oozing out of the gaping hole settled in his side. There was only one reason it could still be bleeding like this – the bullet was still in there.
She could call Tecna, Digit or anyone to get her first aid supplies but she knew he wasn't going to make it for that long. How he made it through the night was a miracle in itself.
Stella had been in the rebellion for years, if there was any way to remove bullets without proper aid or magic, it was to go fishing in the wound. She didn't have time for proper medical help, "I'm sorry," She whispered regrettably before pushing her fingers right into the open gaping wound.
His eyes flickered open at the immense pain that shot up his body and Brandon let out a pained yell. He had lost way too much blood to even be awake but the pain of her fingers in his gashing wound was unbearable.
His hands gripped the arms of the chair, his body jerked in reaction to the agony. She couldn't work from how much he was flailing. Stella pressed her knee against his thigh, pushing her body weight onto him to keep him pinned to the chair, "It's okay, it's okay, I got you," She murmured over and over again between his howls of torment trying to keep herself focussed.
It was lodged deep into his ribcage, she could see why he wasn't able to get it out himself. Her small fingers dug deeper, her body going numb at the sound of his shrieks getting louder. His hands instinctively gripped her waist tightly as she sat partly on his lap, forcing his shoulder back with her other hand to keep him from flailing.
Where was the damned bullet?!
"Shh it's okay, I'm going to get it out," She whispered consolingly as she met the agonised expression on his face. He wasn't even listening before dropping his head on her shoulder and heaving rapidly.
His pulse was beginning to bottom out, she could barely sense it as he gasped for breath on her shoulder, "Stay with me please," She could feel his fingers dig into her waist trying to hold down the pain.
Where is this damn thing?!
"Come on, where the fuck is it?!" She hissed frantically and her fingers finally met the cold remains of the bullet between his flesh. Oh, thank goddess. She didn't hesitate to pull it out as Brandon let out one last groan between his gritted teeth.
It burned.
Stella immediately dropped it from her grip, recoiling from the stinging feeling and it clattered to the floor. She could see the dark purple miasma encircle the bullet moments before vaporising, leaving behind the silver remains.
It was cursed.
But she had other problems. She quickly inspected the wound, seeing the blood had ceased from oozing out of it. However, there was still some red liquid covering it from when her fingers were in there but his shirt was already too drenched to use to clean it.
Without a shred of hesitation, she ripped her own top, pulling off enough and pressing it against the open wound. The worst was over, and silence befell the room once more, before she turned her gaze towards the high commander.
His eyes were closed as he dropped his head against the back of the chair in a tired, worn-out way. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as the warm air escaped his parted lips and filled the silence with his ragged breathing.
She panted, her heavy breath mixed with his. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips when the tan colour began slowly flushing his skin. He was going to be okay. His eyelids slowly parted, and his brown hue gaze stared silently at her as she continued to watch the life slowly start colouring his pale face.
He was alive.
A fact that would otherwise bring her nothing but misery made her feel relieved right now. He didn't say anything but continued to watch her face with a blank expression as his laboured breathing continued to fill the room.
After a few moments, his gaze flickered down at her body as if finally registering the situation. His blood covered her torn clothes, tainted over her fingers and some streaks across her cheek then she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Her other hand was still pressing the cloth of her shirt to his side, concealing the wound that almost killed him.
His eyes scaled back up to her face, an unreadable emotion donning his features, "You're on me, princess," He spoke monotonously before slowly moving his hands from gripping her waist. Realisation dawned on her that she was still partly on his lap from holding him down.
Stella's eyes widened as she bounded away from him, letting go of the cloth against his wound in the process. Brandon peeled himself off the back of the chair with a groan, his cold eyes flickering from his wound to the armour plates stripped off him and on the floor.
His compression tee had been torn through the middle and his bare upper body was what she was leaning against moments ago as he sat in just his uniform pants. Stella tore her gaze away from his bare body and forced her stare to his face instead.
"Um. I'll get the first aid kit to patch it up-" She murmured quickly and he shook his head.
"It's fine, it'll heal," He replied in an almost cold and uncaring way. She could tell he lacked the strength to even get up from the chair considering he had been bleeding out all night, but of course, he must remain arrogant even after almost dying moments ago.
"Brandon you had a bullet-"
"Princess, I said it's fine, leave it," He snapped back, cutting her off. Her lips parted in surprise at his frigid tone. Considering she just saved his life, some form of compassion was the bare minimum. This man couldn't care less.
She glared at him, "I just saved your life, Brandon, the least you could do is-"
His cold eyes met hers before he cut her off and stood up out of the chair, "I don't recall asking you to,"
This…this asshole!
"You didn't have to, I know that if you die, I die with you!" She spat, and clenched her fists, trying so desperately to cover the hurt in her tone.
He blinked, furrowing his eyebrows when he realised she knew about the curse, "Great work Princess, you figured it out," he drawled, "You can't die without killing me, and I can't die without killing you. We're stuck with each other, till death do us part," He bit back sarcastically.
She hated how nonchalant he was being. How emotionless and cold he was acting despite being in her debt. Granted he was fine now but that didn't take away from the fact that he had a cursed bullet lodged in his side and almost died.
"I can't believe I cared enough to save your life and you have the audacity to remain arrogant," She snapped back in irritation. She wasn't expecting a gold medal from him for rescuing her mortal enemy from certain death, but at least not being so cold would be nice!
Brandon rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, "Then stop caring," He replied monotonously.
If everything he had done up until this point wasn't good enough reason to hate him, this definitely put the icing on the cake. Stella let out an incredulous laugh as he continued to stare at her emotionlessly. No, he wasn't kidding. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
The man she saved was most definitely not the same boy she loved before.
He turned his gaze away from her, refusing to even give her the respect of looking at her face before she screamed out, "I hate you!"
Stella didn't linger in the king's study a second longer after the words left her mouth. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room before she could break something. Slamming the study room door shut with a rattle, she broke into a run right back into her guest room across the hall.
Throwing her own door shut, Stella pressed her back against the door and stared at the blood that stained her hands. His blood. She was drenched in that metallic smell, it looked like she had partaken in a massacre herself.
She could still hear his agonised groans, ringing in her ear despite the arrogance she was backlashed with moments after. "Fucking asshole!" She screamed in frustration, punching the side of her fist against the door she was leaning on before pulling herself up.
Stella stormed into her bathroom, staring at the matted blood on her skin, hands and torn clothes through the reflection of the mirror. Every droplet of red on her skin was beginning to piss her off. She so graciously saved his life and this is the thanks she gets?!
Damn her for even caring!
Stripping the tattered clothes off of her, she stepped into the shower. The hot steam smothered the bathroom as Stella stood under the water pattering against her face. She couldn't get him out of her head.
He was so vulnerable in that moment. Her hand subconsciously slipped to her waist, her nails digging into her skin that mimicked the way he gripped her body to endure the pain.
He had saved her life that day in the garden 9 years ago when the blade almost hit her, and now she had saved his. A life for a life, her debt was repaid and she could put his heroism past her and move on.
He was still the man who murdered her father and that, no amount of heroism could ever make her forgive him for.
She could see the remains of his blood wash away with the water on the floor of the shower. Her hands were no longer stained in it, but she couldn't get it out of her mind.
"Dammit!" She cursed, punching the marble lining of the shower wall out of frustration. There was no way he was getting an ounce of sympathy from her ever again. The next chance she gets, she promised herself she'd kill him.
Kill him for everything he's done.
For murdering her father, for slaughtering her kingdom and for the hand he had in killing Noah and destroying her rebellion.
Even if it meant she'd die with him.
Till death do them part.
HELOO! i have read all your wonderful comments and i want to reply to them all so so badly but im typing with one hand as the other is immobile for about 2 weeks hehe. i wrote this chappie a few days ago and didn't get a chance to publish but here you go!
lots of love,
star!