“Can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous, hovering all puppy-faced like that.” She wiped at her hands, exposing shallow, bloody scrapes and peeled up skin that oozed more blood. “Ugh, I’m not even going to be able to hold a pencil, am I.” Giving a sigh, she carefully toed off her shoes, and wiped again at her palms. “I want to find that guy and punch him in the nose.” She tried to tape gauze pads over her hands, and after a minute of struggling, looked up at Isaac. “Help?”
He nodded jerkily and dropped down onto a small section that she wasn’t taking up in her sprawled out position, the coppery smell of blood causing him to gag due to his heightened senses. “I’m sorry…this is all my fault…” he blurted out helplessly and rubbed at the back of his head, nodding then and reaching out to help her bandage up her injuries. “Like this?”
She hissed between her teeth again as he pressed gently against the gauze, pressed the medical tape down. “It’s not your fault at all. Whoever that blue eyed person is, it’s his fault. I was just walking back to my car, minding my own business, when he freaking jumped out from behind that big pine tree and /growled/ at me, all fangs and glowing eyes. And then Derek jumped out at me! I didn’t even know you were there until you called my name.” She studied her hands, wounds warded behind white cotton.
Then Summer reached out and closed her hands carefully over his. “I want to know /everything/. I need to understand. And I — I want to see. What you look like. Like that. Again.” She held tight, not wanting him to pull away. Needing him to understand that she didn’t want to let go; she just wanted to /know/.