Prompted by: AnRo
The crazy author says: Maybe we’ll switch the POV next week. Ehh, maybe not. Dunno yet…
Then he starts to purr and I melt into an instant puddle.
I swear to God, my colossus of a man sounds like a fluffy, newborn kitten. Yeah, we’ve been reduced to kittens and fucking puddles. It doesn’t even matter. I’m perfectly content.
Until he shifts to nuzzle closer and leaves a trail of fresh blood smeared across my chest.
While I’m not sure exactly where it came from, it’s easy enough to guess. I touch my fingertips to his temple. They come away wet. “You’re bleeding.”
My concern falls on deaf ears.
“Let me see.”
His arms tighten.
My ribs creak as he puts me on full lockdown, drawing an involuntary sigh from my lips through sheer force.
There’s no use trying to argue. I wasted my last breath failing to convince a stubborn fool and now I’ve run out of oxygen. Now I’m struggling for air. Now my lungs are on fire again.
I don’t mind though. The burn, it soothes me. It assures me he’s alive.
Gingerly stroking his hair, I glance over at Tech for help.
Twitch beats him to the punch. “Just tore open a few stitches,” he says, bending down to examine his brother with the most infuriating shrug. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Maybe I look as pissed as I feel. Or exhausted, about ready to fall apart. On the verge of losing consciousness.
Because Twitch plants a chaste kiss on my forehead and adds, “I’ll get the doctor, okay?”
I vaguely recall nodding before I’m dragged beneath the light.
And swallowed whole by darkness.
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.