My eyes shot open as I took a startled breath, above me was James, cradling me against the floor. My head was laid between the crook of his calf and thigh. He looked down, the blood from the cut on his cheek earlier had dried, leaving it crusty. A curiosity was shining in his eyes as he stared down at me.
"Are you alright?" He asked casually, handing me a plastic water bottle from beside himself. He had already taken off the lid as I took a short slow sip.
"Who's Florence?" James went rigid staring back at me as he leaned against his hands, placing them on the floor behind him.
"Florence?" He asked slowly, paling ever so slightly.
"I started to remember us training, a few of the times we ventured into the woods to look for CLA members, and just fighting in general, only I was awake while I was remembering that. As soon as I passed out though, I remembered one of the times all of us were training and I'd taken both you and Chase down with a stab to the side." I looked into his eyes seeing if he would betray any semblance of knowledge. As I did he looked away from me, finding the window more entertaining. I still laid on his lap as I continued. "You both asked me who I had been training with, I said someone named Florence. Do you know who that is?"
James swallowed hard, the cut on his throat still wet, meaning I hadn't been passed out very long. The edges of blood cascaded downward much like a small stream. "I do." He strained to let those words out, tapping his fingers against the spongy grey floor. I raised my eyebrows waiting for him to continue. "Florence was half Awakened, half Fae. Almost like Chase, but fairly different. He was part of the Reapers, just like us, one of the strongest there were. He um," James scratched the back of his neck. "He eventually got kicked out when they decided he was too strong, accidentally breaking a few people's bones while hugging them at only the age of fourteen. Which granted he looked younger than us at the time, so they decided they had to try to remove his awakened mark, but all they could do was damage it, which greatly reduced his powers. Florence grew resentful of the awakened because of this and began to kill all those who wronged him before he was taken elsewhere." James gave me a pitiful smile.
"You two were great friends, he taught you almost everything you knew, and for a long time you were stronger than both Chase and me." James shook his head, blonde falling into his dark eyelashes.
"Where'd they take him?" I asked, running my fingers over my left hand in thought, trying to remember what Florence may have looked like.
"Nobody knows if they actually took him anywhere or if they just killed him, but no one could question the head of the Reapers or they'd disappear too. I like to believe he's still alive though, he was the head's favorite prodigy after all." I took a sip from the water James had given me, slowly sitting up as I did so. James stared at me; his gaze soft.
I walked over to one of the first aid kits that sat beside the weapons wall, James's eyes following me as I did so. I pulled it free and brought it over to where he still sat. I plopped down in front of him as I opened the first aid pack. "Do you hope you'll see him again?" I asked as I sorted through the box retrieving some antiseptic wipes and gauze.
"I suppose I still do," he looked toward the rafters, closing his eyes. I poured some of the antiseptic onto a gauze pad, slowly touching it to his cut cheek. He opened one eye lazily as I carefully wiped it, smiling to himself. "I wasn't the closest to him, but every one of the Reapers were family, every one of them had saved each other and ourselves ten times over. It'd be wrong not to miss him," I hummed in agreement, cleaning off the dried blood on his face. Then I grabbed the ointment in the box, putting a bit on my finger before I gently slid it across the wound. He winced ever so slightly at the newfound pressure but didn't stop me.
"He was always kind," James continued. I pulled out three of the thicker band aids, lining them vertically along his wound. "Many of those in the Reapers were, but there were also many who were vile, deeply evil. Many would have preferred Florence to be put to death right there, just because they felt inferior, in danger if you will." I nodded my head retrieving a fresh cotton pad pouring new antiseptic on it as I delicately washed off the much fresher blood from his neck.
"Was that all many of them did? Kill, when they felt threatened that is," I continued to clean his wound looking toward his eyes which were still closed. James swallowed deeply as my hand passed over the part of the cut that dipped farther on the right side, almost completely to the base of his ear.
"Mhm," he hummed out, brown eyes peeking out through his eyelids, staring at me. I quickly averted my gaze from his focusing on the edge of the cut that seemed to dip below his collar bone, more than likely from when I fell. "Many seemed to take joy in the death and suffering of others, not much you could do about that though," he pulled the collar of his shirt down so I could see to what extent I'd cut him. More scars, many more than I'd ever imagined littered his tan skin, sticking out starkly against it. I tried my best to ignore them as I delicately wiped the tender flesh of the wound.
"Tss," James breathed, wincing once more as I continued to wipe away blood reapplying more antiseptic to the gauze.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cut you this bad," I shook my head, continuing, as James chuckled.
"It wasn't your fault, you passed out. That can happen to anyone at any time." I put a decent amount of the ointment onto my fingers once more and rubbed it on the cut that looked as though it was a turned over L that made its way from his Adam's apple, to below his ear then down the side of his neck to his collarbone.
"I guess you're right."
"I know I'm right," he winked at me, and I hit him in the shoulder, then I created two separate gauze pads to place over the wound. I then grabbed some of the medical grade tape that lay in the box to hold it in place. I could feel his pulse thrumming quickly against my fingertips, but I refrained from saying anything. He took a deep breath as I absentmindedly caressed one of the scars beside where I had laid the tape down.
My eyes wandered to the final cut as he released the navy shirt collar from his fingertips. I looked up to him, he was still leaning back on both hands, his eyes dark against the blonde of his hair. "Would you like me to clean the last one too?" I asked cautiously, not trying to overstep. He shrugged, lifting the hem of his shirt up revealing the deepest wound on him. The one he forced me to inflict.
More scars were scattered like snowflakes across the rest of his tanned skin, every spot my eyes wandered a new one was revealed to me. On his side I saw it, the scar I had found I inflicted when I was just a child. I slid the tip of my finger across the toned flesh that was much lighter than the rest of his skin. He flinched, eyes darkening.
"This one's from me, isn't it?" I asked softly, tracing it with my finger.
He let his words out, seeming to strain ever so slightly. "That? Yeah, it was." He breathed out, goosebumps raising on his skin. "But I'm all better now," he smiled, his dimples showing, but his breath was coming slightly faster than before. I nodded slowly before cleaning the wound on his chest with the antiseptic. He closed his eyes again, still holding up his shirt for me.
I tried my best not to look anywhere other than his chest as I cleaned it, but as he breathed his muscles flexed. The tan of his skin accentuated each muscle further. I felt my mouth go dry as I finished putting the bandage on him and he slowly pulled his shirt down.
"I'm sure you have a few from me as well," he spoke softly, acquiring gauze for me instead, pouring antiseptic on them. "You just don't remember which ones yet, but you'll have a few more now," he chuckled as he began to clean the wound on my cheek. "Think of it as payback," he smiled as he wiped the remainder of the blood off, putting ointment on his thumb. He took the side of my face into his hand sliding it across my cheek.
Despite the slight sting, I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest. "This one isn't likely to stay though, so don't worry, your face won't be ruined," he stared into my eyes, speaking smoothly, before averting his gaze and continuing with bandaging me. Then he moved to my neck, and I flinched against his touch, feeling goose bumps of my own rise. His calloused hands felt rough as he cleaned and applied ointment, bandaging to my wound, but his touch was so delicate it felt like a ghost's. I flinched as he rolled up the sleeve of my uniform to clean up the gash there.
I felt my heart speed up as he finished that spot, moving his coffee eyes to my thigh. "May I?" He asked so calmly, I felt like I was going crazy.
"Of course," I managed to say as he slid the end of my uniform up my leg, his touch was making me crazy I realized with a start. He gently cleaned the long slash that made its way from my knee to close to the top of my thigh. I inhaled sharply as he moved the antiseptic further up my leg.
"Did that hurt?" He asked, staring down at the wound.
"A little," I lied, not wanting to say anything else.
"I'll try to be quick," he said as I punched him lightly in the shoulder, trying to get my heart to slow down.
"You better not do a hack job," I said, more breathlessly than I would care to admit.
"Trust me, I won't let it get infected," he spoke smoothly though his hands shook ever so slightly as he continued further up. I nodded my head slowly, not wishing for more words to escape me. He wrapped this one with one of the large gauzes in the box, cautiously sliding it around the back of my leg to the front. He taped it in three spots, wrapping the tape around my thigh as well.
"Why can the weapons cut through these when they're supposed to protect us from demons or monsters?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the warmth of his hands and the thrum in my heart.
"The uniform itself is demonic infused, so a weapon that can cut through a demon can also cut through the gear. If a weapon doesn't have the poison that prevents demons from healing, it can't cut through," James slowly grabbed the jumbled-up fabric pulling it back down my leg. I nodded my head slowly, the wound on my neck throbbing a bit.
I leaned back on my hands, as James stared at the wound on my side now. "If it makes you uncomfortable," he began, swallowing hard, his eyes the darkest I'd ever seen them, "I won't bandage that one for you." He looked me in the eyes now, his curls framing parts of his face, some a lighter blonde, others more sandy. I moved my eyes to look at something else.
"Go for it," I swallowed, returning my gaze to his as he painstakingly moved behind me. He displaced the fly aways at the nape of my neck, causing a chill to raise on my skin. He delicately pulled on the zipper, my face heating as he did so. It's just to help me, nothing more. James pulled the zipper to the peak of my hips before letting out a breath he'd seemed to be holding.
"You're sure you aren't uncomfortable with me doing it?" He asked once again, to be sure he wasn't pressuring me. His hands were fiddling with the material near my neck, his thumb tapping against one of the scars on my back.
I laughed softly, "It's fine James, hurry up, I'm getting bored." Yet another lie to myself, I thought. He grasped the pieces at my neck pulling them down past my shoulders, my sports bra exposed underneath. He helped me remove the top half so as to not ruin the bandages he'd placed on my arm. Then as the top half was off, he moved back in front of me.
"Lean back a little," I obliged, biting the inside of my cheek ever so slightly as he closed the distance between my exposed skin and his hand. His scarred hand carefully brushed over the spot, before he grabbed the antiseptic once more. I let out a shaky breath as he ran his hand over my stomach, his left one gently set on the other side to offer stability.
"Why do you have so many scars?" I asked, genuinely curious, trying to distract myself once more. "If you don't mind me asking."
"A lot of beatings during the Reaper training camps, others from people I sparred with, like you and Chase, and the rest from missions," he caressed the cotton pad over my skin, as though lost in thought.
"I see," I winced a sharp pain cutting up the wound, although it wasn't deep enough to puncture any organs it still hurt. He applied the ointment delicately with his thumb in a sweeping motion, giving me chills.
After applying several band aids, he leaned back staring me in the eye. "I'm sorry for cutting you as much as I did, but I thought it'd help," he stated, I smiled back at him as I began to pull the uniform back on, his eyes seeming to devour me.
"And it did," I chuckled, taking my time. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't remember anything, but now I have an idea how to fight. It's all thanks to you." He sat no more than a few inches from me as I spoke. It made me nervous to say the least. I pulled both sleeves over my shoulders now, attempting to zip up the back, as I did though, James leaned forward, a tender hand to my face.
"It was all you, even when we weren't talking for a few days, you still practiced, making you more prepared than before," my heart raced as he spoke, his caramel eyes looking at me, searching. I carefully placed my hand on the cheek opposite the one he held on to me. We sat there staring at one another for a moment before our lips softly collided against one another.
James's lips were smooth to the touch, I tried to get closer to him, as he did the same. I looped my arm around the nape of his neck lacing my fingers into his curls, deepening the kiss further. A small groan escaped his lips as he pulled me onto his lap, my back still exposed, as his left hand trailed up and down my spine. Goosebumps raised on the skin he'd touched. He moved his hand up to the back of my neck pulling me closer against him.
James moved his lips from mine down to my neck, kissing me tenderly. "We should stop Makayla," James kissed my neck again before looking up at me from where I sat on his lap.
"What?" I asked, out of breath as his lips wandered to my neck once more.
"Shouldn't we?" He whispered, tickling the hairs on the base of my neck. "Chase is still in love with you, and if we continue with what we're doing now, we're bound to get caught especially, right here," he spoke quietly, leaning his head against my collar bone. Chase, oh god I'd forgotten about Chase. My mind felt like it was racing, and I felt dizzy. How could I have forgotten about him? He was my first kiss was he not? I gulped, placing a hand on James's head.
"You're right, can you help me zip this up?" I asked slowly, my breathing still not catching. I felt disheveled, I'd gotten so caught up, what was wrong with me? He looked up at me, nodding his head slowly as he reached his right hand behind my back, slowly zipping me back up.
"You're going to have to get off of me you know?" He chuckled, tucking one of my fly aways behind my ear. "At least I got to have a taste of what it's like," he smiled sadly as I removed myself from his lap. I stared at him, frowning ever so slightly.
"What do you mean?" He smiled in disappointment as I questioned him.
"Regardless of if you remember him or not, you'll always choose him, angel. I'll see you later," James gave me a tenderhearted kiss on the top of my forehead, as though it was a final farewell, and then he left me sitting there by myself. The only thought that crossed my mind was, do I really want Chase?