Guilt came crushing her like waves.
'I hurt him, didn't I?
I made the boy sad.' Neva ponders with a heavy heart.
She sighs, she could have watched her cruel mouth. Trudging to the door, she locks it secure.
Walking back to her living room, she picks up the abandoned medicine on the table, placing them back in the first aid kit. Keeping it in the room, she heads to the balcony.
She shivers, arms around her frame, the cold gusts of wind reddening her nose and cheeks.
Grabbing the cup, she sighs: her hot chocolate's cold.
Curls Neva her lips in sorrow, she cannot let it go to waste, so she drinks the remaining hot chocolate—now cold, in three, big, gulps.
Leaning on the railing, the shadowed nature and twinkling town in her sight, her eyes dulls—recalling back his withered face.
---
The approaching week went by rather slowly; Rhett didn't appear again.
Six in the dusk, Neva strolls back home from her little trip from a short visit to a nearby convenience store. Her hand busy with a grocery bag.
Reaching her apartment, she climbs up the stairs to her floor, when a familiar figure has her heart flutter.
He stands before the apartment door, seeming to tap password in the lock.
"Rhett?" Neva calls out. His hand halts mid-air, his clouded head—suddenly clear.
But he doesn't spare a glimpse at her.
She hastens her steps, nearing him, she frowns at his avoiding eyes.
"Are you alright?" Neva asks, he doesn't respond. She grabs his arm, turning him to face her. His gaze—still lowered, he has her purse the lips.
Looking at him, her frown deepens. 'Why would he be so horribly pale? Did he not recover from fever?'
As she agapes her lips to rain inquiries at him. Her gaze runs down his hand, she gasps, her eyes widened in terror, prevailing over her words. He has his hand—clutching the abdomen, smeared in blood. His abdomen; was oozing out blood.
"Rhett you're bleeding! How did you get hurt?" She doesn't wait for an answer, dragging him to her apartment slim strides away.
Inside of her living room, she places him on the couch.
"Undress yourself." She demands after she had kept her groceries on the ground.
"What?" In a small voice he asks, looking into her serious eyes.
"Your hoodie, please take it off." She repeats, but he stays still and unmoving, l gazing away from her.
"I'm fine, you needn't bother." He says, aloof and unusual, far from his goofy self, Neva frowns.
'Did he really took it to heart?' She recalls his saddened face the last time he had left her home.
"Raise your arms." She says, helping him raise his arms, taking matter in her own hands. His brows arched up, Rhett is stunned. He goes along her motives, throwing away the reluctance. She slides his hoodie off. He wore nothing inside. Bare body in her sight.
Closing in to him, her heart tightens; he was stabbed, it appears to be. Quite a deep wound in the abdomen, and the blood's still flowing.
The hoodie being black, she couldn't tell much, but she knows, he had probably lost a hefty amount.
Hurrying to her room, she brings back an emergency kit. Washing her hands to prevent any infection before treating him—making haste, she's back for him. She seats herself close beside him, turning his frame to face her.
She first stops the bleeding, then applies a gentle pressure with a clean bandage. Cleaning the wound with a clean wet cloth, she finally applies an ointment. And lastly, covers up the wound—dressing it up secure.
"For now I just stopped the bleeding, hurry and treat it at the hospital." She remarks, closing the lid of her emergency kit.
"Does it hurt?" Neva inquires the hush, and awfully silent man.
His gaze lowered, heart beating exhaustingly fast. She earns a shake of his head.
'It doesn't hurt? Seriously!'
"You'd likely need stitches," she makes the poor quiet man know.
"What is it?" Finally she asks, he was like a little kid scolded and then loved later by his mother.
A silent moment goes by, she patiently awaits his response. "I'm sorry, I've troubled you again." Rhett says at end, his head still lowered. Was he so afraid to look up at her?
She sighs, "It's no big deal." She ceases a little while, gathering her words.
"About that time I didn't mean it... you are no trouble."
He slowly looks up at her, tangling the eyes. "Really?"
She clears her throat, "Only mentioned the fever part, but you clearly are annoying following me around."
'Heh would he get upset again?'
She thought she had hit his sore chest again, but then his face brightens up. Neva thinks he still may be a child.
"Won't you ask how I got hurt?" Livelier Rhett asks her, throwing on his hoodie. Neva raises her brows at the querie.
"You must be in a street gang. Aren't you?" She didn't need to use too much of her brain, this bizarre man seemed like a difinition of a boy never serious in life, having the parents in a chokehold of perturbation.
"What?" Rhett asks in amazement.
"Otherwise, how would you explain, you probably got into a fight and lose." She shrugs.
Rhett chuckles, he finds her so really cute.
"What it's not it?" Her brows creases. He still seemed like a boy with no future in her eyes.
"You're genius Angel!" He gives her a thumbs up. "But I'm in no street gang, and I didn't lose the fight. In fact I won." He smiles in victory.
"I won't ask further more." The girl exhales overwhelmed. In her heart she smiles, he's himself again. She prefers this happy Rhett more.
"See, don't be a stalker anymore, we can be friendly neighbours." Neva suggests out of nowhere.
Rhett frowns, "But I want to be lovers."
Neva rolls her eyes. "You don't say things like that!"
She deeply ponders. "If you do really like me, than give me a reason for me to date you."
"Because I like you." Rhett replies without much thoughts.
'That's it? Where's your IQ where's your EQ??'
Neva huffs, "Forget it go rest!"
Atleast assure her about your good nature, your strength that comes with that great body.
Far forget about keeping her happy and prosper loyalty. She arises the her feet, turns around leaving. He had no chance with her.
He grabs her wrist, making her stop her steps, she looks back a him—meeting a smiling Rhett. "Alright for now we can be friends, but later we'd date." He responds, optimistic. Clueless everafter.
"Win me over." She steals away her hand from his grip—blushing, swiftly dissapearing, leaving a man smiling like a fool.