“Colson.” His name comes out in a strangled whisper of a voice.
He clears his throat, and my gaze rises to his bloodshot eyes. I don’t need to be a doctor to see that he’s hurting, and he doesn’t ask if he can come in, but why else would he be here?
For whatever reason, he hasn’t gone to Sebastian.
I don’t have the time to overthink what that means or that it’s the third time we’re seeing each other today. I open the doorwider and step aside because if roles were reversed, I’d want him to do the same for me.
We’requiet as we make it down the hall to my room. I’m not sure if it’s uncomfortable for him to be back here, but it’s better than staying in the open living area and risking someone walking through the door.
I imagine he barely wants to tellmewhy he showed up looking like he’s had the shit kicked out of him, let alone one of my roommates.
My head fills with questions, but I don’t push myself to ask them out of courtesy of wanting the same if I were in his shoes. I would want a place where I could go without judgment and interrogations.
I plan to offer him the same.
Even if there’s this energy buzzing that tells me something not so great might be going on. Last I saw him, he was in the complex’s gym, but he could have left after I did. Maybe he went somewhere. Maybe someone jumped him, but if that were the case, wouldn’t he have contacted the cops first?
“My roommates are out, but they could come back whenever,” I explain, standing by the closed door, my back ramrod straight as he stands off to the side, not looking at me.
“I probably shouldn’t have come but…”
“What happened?” I twist my fingers in my hand, unsure of how I can help him beyond giving him a place to hide out.
He swallows, and from where I’m at, I can see his throat ripple with the movement. “I can’t tell you that.”
I move to stand in front of him, pushing away the nerves in my stomach. It’s clear he needs a friend, and I plan on being that for him. For as long as he wants it.
His skin is warm when I brush the pad of my thumb over his chin. He winces.
“Sorry. I just…we should get that cleaned up.”
He nods. “Got anything I can take for the pain?”
“Vodka or Tylenol?”
“I’ll take the Tylenol.”
“In case you forgot, the bathroom is across the hall. There are clean wash rags in the drawer of the vanity. Help yourself.”
I prepare to head out to the kitchen where we have our medicine cabinet. We keep it out there so everyone has access to it at any given time.
He grabs my arm before I get far, sliding his hand down to my hand. He squeezes it, and I drown in the blue of his eyes when he looks down at me, those tiny tawny specks nowhere to be found. “Thank you.”
I nod then go find the pain reliever. It takes me a minute to locate it, then I grab a water bottle and go back to my room. The bathroom door is open wide after I set it all down on the nightstand, the light spilling into the hallway. I move to the doorway, unsure if I should but knowing I need to. If not for him then me.
Whatever happened…I want to be here for him. I can’t do that by keeping my distance.
He’s in front of the sink, pressing a rag to his mouth when I approach.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Eventually,” he says, using the reflection to clean himself up.
“Here, let me.” I pull the rag from his hand, run it under ice cold water, then press it to his lip when he turns in my direction.
Butt propped on the edge of the sink; his hands grip the counter at either side. “I can handle it.”
Moving the rag away, it doesn’t look nearly as bad. There must’ve been dried blood on his skin, exaggerating the severity. “You came here for a reason, so let me help.”
