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“Me destroying my house is the least of your worries right now. I need to get this glass out of your hand and stitch you up.” I’m focused, determined. I’ve cleaned many wounds in my days. I’m given many stitches, hell I’ve stitched up myself but I’ve never done this for a woman before.
“Stitches?” She starts shaking her head, “No…no…I don’t like needles. I think it will be fine. I don’t need stitches.”
“Shhh kitten…calm down. It’s going to be okay…” I cup her by the cheek, and look deep into her eyes. She’s terrified, worried out of her damn mind, and I have to make her feel protected, secure. “Breathe, just breathe with me and it’ll be fine.” When she nods her head, to let me know she hears me I release her and open the kit, pulling out everything I need.
“I’m going to pull out the glass and then I’m going to clean the cut. I want to see how deep it is before I start sewing you up. This isn’t going to be like pulling a bandaid off. I can’t do this fast and quick or I might widen the cut.” I hold onto her wrist with a death grip, afraid she may jump off the counter and run away and with a steady hand I start to pull out the glass, slowly, very slowly.
“Close your eyes if you need to, it might help.” I glance up at her and watch her close her eyes Her tiny chest heaves beneath my shirt, and her skin is still a snowy white.
“Why did you do it?” She whispers.
“You’re doing good kitten.” I pull the glass out all the way and toss the shard into the sink, before I start to clean it with hydrogen peroxide. Ignoring her question.
“Talk to me Ivan.” She cries, gripping onto my hand with her uninjured one. I grit my teeth, not wanting to answer her, but knowing if I don’t she may just flip out more.
“I was angry, and I still am.” I answer as I finish cleaning the cut, and then inspect the wound. It’s not too deep…thank goodness.
“Why are you angry? Are you mad at me?” She hisses, and her gaze widens when I release her hand and get the needle and thread ready.
“More myself than you kitten.” I watch her visibly swallow, “This is going to hurt…and I wish I had something to give you for the pain but I don’t unless you want me to go get those pills from the cell. She shakes her head without thinking about it. “Just stay with me, and it’ll be over soon, okay?”
“I’m sorry Ivan.” She apologizes yet-a-fucking-gain and I have half the mind to tell her to shut up again. I’m tired of her being sorry, of apologizing for things that aren’t her fault.
Instead I start stitching her up, the needle pierces her creamy skin, and I realize then that she’ll always have a stark reminder of me on her hand…a scar to remind her of the kind of mistake I was. Words land on the tip of my tongue, and I start speaking without thinking.
“I’m not who you think I am Violet. Yes, I’m helping you, but I’ve hurt hundreds before you. A lot of people, a lot women, died because of me and some I’ve even killed myself. Me saving you doesn’t change the things I’ve done. One good thing for all the bad doesn’t make the bad disappear. It doesn’t make me a good man for doing right by you.”
“I know you aren’t good, but you’re good enough for me. There’s light inside of you, and it’s begging to be set free, it’s begging to shine bright. Your like a firefly trapped in a jar and I want to set you free Ivan.” My jaw tightens and I steady my shaking hand as I pierce her skin once more.
“Stop trying to see the good in me, the good in everyone around you. We’re all evil in some way shape or form. God didn’t make us without flaws.”
“What’s my flaw then?”
“Loving me.”
She quiets at my response, and I finish sewing her up. I clean up the blood off the side of her hand, and toss all the blood gauze into the trash. When I wrap the hand lightly, I can feel Violet’s eyes on me, burning a hole through my body. I silently clean up all the glass off the floor, sweeping it up and tossing it into the trash.
My head starts to pound directly behind my eyes.
“Let’s go to bed.” I order, picking her up from the counter by her hips, before placing her back down on her feet. She holds her hand to her chest, and looks up at me, with a sadness in lingering in her depths.
“Will you hold me?” The hopeful tone in her voice crushes me all over again. I press a hand to the small of her back, and usher her forward. Things have changed between us and I’m torn in half by the feelings accompanied with that change. I’m feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. Part of me wants this, wants her so badly… while the other part despises the thought of it.
