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“It means that I can’t.” She tried to push past me, but I barely felt anything.
Seeing how pale she was and how slowly her eyes were blinking, I hurriedly grabbed her by her arms when I noticed her body swaying from side to side and quickly placed her in a chair.
“Aryana! Aryana!” I held her face in between my hands. “What’s wrong?”
She lurched forward, her hand coming to her mouth.
“I’m…I’m going to be sick!”
I swiveled around, looking for a bin, and quickly grabbed one near the counter. I hurried back to Aryana in the nick of time because she grabbed the container from my hands and threw up the stomach acid. I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose.
“Are you okay?” I asked in an unsure manner. I was out of my league here. I didn’t know what to do.
“Do I look okay to you?” She asked snarkily.
While she still was pale, she looked a lot better now. Beads of sweat dotted her face, and strands of brown hair framed her face so that she looked like a sick, fragile beauty. It was enough to daze me.
“You look beautiful.” I blurted out. Immediately, I cringed, feeling like a fool. Had I suddenly lost control of my thinking faculties?
To my relief, Aryana didn’t pay attention and snorted in amusement.
“I look disgusting.” She retorted with a wince.
“You do not look so terrible.” I handed her a glass of water, receiving a grateful look before she downed the colorless liquid.
“How are you feeling now?” I asked, collecting the cup and refilling it.
I feel better.”
I hummed, eyeing the trash can she had used. She noticed where my eyes were, and she grimaced. “Sorry about that. I’ll clean it.”
I pressed her back into the chair when she attempted to stand up and took the trash can from her. “Do not be silly. It’s not a big deal.”
Her face was flushed pink. Maybe it was because she was embarrassed that I was handling her bile. I was amused.
“Are you sure?” She questioned, looking uncomfortable. Her eyes remained on my hand that was carrying the trash can. Her body appeared ready to battle me for the waste bin.
I chuckled. “I’ve handled worse things than your vomit, I can assure you.”
For a moment, I wondered if I had gone too far when I saw how she flinched.
“It must have been a pain in the ass to get rid of the bloodstains.” She chuckled.
I was surprised; she must have seen it on my face because she gave me a reassuring smile. “I’ve broken my nose before—a bicycle accident when I was a kid. I was too confident that I could ride without needing traiing wheels. Didn’t work in my favor.” She shrugged. “I had to get rid of my top because there was no detergent that was strong enough to get rid of the stains.”
I laughed. “Next time, you should use hydrogen peroxide.” I offered.
“Yeah, I found out about that later.”
She waved her hand at my confusion.
“Another accident. It was in high school.”
I shook my head fondly. “You seem to be accident-prone. I’ll need to keep a close eye on you.”
“You’ll need to keep more than your eyes on me if you want to keep me out of danger.” She snorted.
My eyebrows flew up. It seemed she later realized the insinuation she had made because her eyes widened in shock, and she stared at me as if she couldn’t believe she had uttered such a thing.
