Free Web NovelChapter 201: Chapter 201: The Bruise
Chapter 201: The Bruise
Giselle said the thought out loud before it could settle into silence.
"From now on, I won’t let Serena Blackwood come within one step of you."
The apartment was still dark. Neither of them had reached for the lights after coming in. Giselle held Elias against her in the entryway, one arm locked around his waist, the other braced across his back as if the door behind them might open and someone might drag him away.
Her voice stayed low beside his ear. Gentle, but set like a blade.
Elias finally lifted his head.
His nose was red, either from crying for too long or from being pressed into her chest while his own breath warmed his skin. In the dark, their faces were close enough that he could see the pale blue of her eyes and the strain she was trying to hide behind them.
He looked at her for a while, then nodded as if he had accepted her promise.
Inwardly, he said, Honestly, I don’t think Giselle can stop Serena from seeing me. freewēbnoveℓ.com
[System Theta: This...]
A moment ago, System Theta had almost believed the scene was warm. Moving. Maybe even tender.
Then Elias opened his mouth and ruined it.
I’m only telling the truth, Elias said. Even Victoria Frost can’t fully stop Serena Blackwood from getting to someone if Serena decides she wants them.
That was the truth.
Still, the little innocent meant well. No need to crush her enthusiasm yet. Besides, this was supposed to be sweet campus romance. What was campus romance without a promise doomed to fail?
The best part came later, when the promise broke and the girl who made it could only stand there watching the person she swore to protect get taken away.
That twist in the heart was the good part.
[System Theta: ...]
System Theta needed a word stronger than "bad person."
Elias took a breath and forced the last of his tears down. His voice still carried a faint rasp when he said, "Giselle, let me see where you’re hurt."
Giselle refused at once. "No. I’m fine."
Elias almost laughed.
Fine. Of course she was fine. In this one thing, Giselle might be even more stubborn than Serena.
A proud girl her age would rather swallow broken glass than show a boy the injuries she got in a fight, even if she won. Especially if she won. With Giselle’s upbringing, getting into a fistfight on campus was not exactly something she would file under dignified accomplishments.
Luckily, Elias had never met a kind of pride he could not work around.
"Giselle," he pleaded, letting his voice soften until it almost broke. "Please."
The sound came out sweet and weak, with a tremor that belonged to boys who knew exactly how fragile they looked when they begged.
Giselle’s lips pressed together.
Again with that face.
Once, she had hated this version of him. The crying. The helplessness. The way he looked as if the world had wronged him personally because someone had raised their voice.
Now, somewhere along the way, she had gotten used to it. Worse, she could no longer hate it.
After a few seconds, she raised both hands toward her shirt buttons.
Elias stopped her immediately, his worry perfect and immediate. "Don’t move. I’ll do it."
Because obviously, if someone was going to unbutton a beautiful girl’s shirt, he should be the one to do it. There was no sense wasting a scene.
Giselle opened her mouth, then shut it again when she saw his eyes, still red and wet behind his crooked glasses.
Elias lowered his gaze and began working through the remaining buttons. A few had already been torn away during the fight, leaving the fabric uneven and pulled open at the middle. His fingers moved carefully, slow enough to seem respectful, steady enough to keep his own amusement hidden.
A strange flicker of guilt passed through him.
He really did look like he was coaxing an innocent girl into something she did not understand.
And that feeling was...
Exciting.
The thought made his smile almost slip, so he lowered his lashes and focused on the buttons.
When the shirt came open, his breath caught.
This time, the sound was real.
Giselle’s stomach, normally pale and smooth, was flushed angry red across one side. Deeper patches were already darkening toward purple, the kind of bruising that would look worse by morning. Serena had not been gentle.
Elias’s gaze lifted, checking higher before he could stop himself. The white fabric beneath Giselle’s shirt was still intact, and more importantly, the soft curve above the bruise had escaped damage.
He let out a quiet breath of relief.
Serena really did not know how to fight properly. Who hit there? If she had damaged something important, that would have been his loss.
[System Theta: But in a fight, aren’t you supposed to hit weak spots?]
Elias’s mental tone cooled. Hm?
[System Theta: I’m sorry!]
Elias nearly laughed out loud. Where did you learn that tone?
At least Serena had not ruined anything permanent. Still, Elias should probably think of a rule. The women could fight if they wanted, but no striking each other in places he personally cared about. Violators would be banned from touching him for a week.
A fair system.
A civilized system.
His eyes softened with a worry that was, annoyingly, half real. He reached out and touched one finger lightly to the reddest part of Giselle’s abdomen.
Her skin was hot beneath his fingertip.
Giselle flinched so sharply she stepped back, and the motion made her loosened shirt shift. Elias blinked once, then snapped back into the role.
"I’m sorry," he said quickly. "It hurts, doesn’t it?"
Giselle’s brows drew together. Even with pain pulling tension into her face, her voice stayed cool. "It doesn’t hurt."
Elias gave her a small, helpless smile.
Stubborn little innocent. She’s adorable. I kind of want to smack the bruise and ask if it hurts then.
[System Theta: ...]
System Theta was starting to suspect Elias was becoming less human with every Chapter. Or worse, that this had been his real personality all along.
"Don’t lie," Elias said aloud, looking up at Giselle with his lower lip caught between his teeth. The faint anger in his eyes looked like concern, and concern looked like blame, and both landed exactly where he wanted. "You’re hurt."
Giselle said nothing.
The apartment remained dark around them, the open entryway leading into the living room where Serena’s careful arrangements still sat untouched. The furniture, the cabinet, the soft rugs, the sterile little signs of expensive preparation. Serena had built this place as a cage disguised as convenience, and now Giselle was standing inside it with her shirt open while Elias looked up at her like she was the only person in the world.
After a moment, Elias whispered, "Let me put something on it."
And take the chance to touch her stomach properly.
He turned as if to leave her arms, but Giselle caught his wrist.
"No," she said.
There it was again.
Elias clicked his tongue in his head.
She thought he actually cared about applying medicine? If not for the chance to touch her openly, he would never bother. It was tiring. It was fussy. It required looking sincere for longer than necessary.
He did not argue.
He only turned his face toward her.
His glasses had slipped slightly from all the crying, and behind the tilted frames, his eyes darkened with fresh moisture. He did not have to say a word. The tears gathered fast enough.
Giselle gave in at once.
She released his wrist with a quiet breath, sounding almost defeated. "Fine. I really..." She stopped herself before finishing the sentence.
I’m scared of you.
That was what she did not say.
Elias’s expression brightened by a fraction. He wiped at his cheek with the back of one hand. "Wait here. I’ll find the ointment."
The apartment belonged to Serena’s arrangements, so of course it had supplies. Serena had thought of Elias getting hurt. Serena had thought of fever, cuts, bruises, breakdowns, aftercare, all the small practical emergencies that made ownership look like tenderness.
Elias opened one of the built-in cabinets and found a medical kit tucked inside, neat enough to belong in a private clinic. Bandages. Antiseptic. Fever patches. Pain relievers. Ointments lined in precise rows.
His fingers closed around the bruise cream.
A thought passed through him, and his mouth curved.
Did this count as giving Serena a little participation?
Using the medicine she bought for him to treat another woman’s injury. How thoughtful of him.
"Found it."
He turned back and looked around the living room, then lifted one hand and pointed at the couch. "Sit."
Giselle obeyed.
She sat stiffly at first, shirt open, silver hair falling over one shoulder. In the dark, she should have looked untouchable. Instead, with the bruise blooming across her skin and her buttons hanging loose, she looked like something expensive that had been damaged in a fight over ownership.
Elias walked to her.
Then he knelt.
Giselle froze.
Her hand moved on instinct, reaching to pull him up. Elias looked up and glared at her, eyes still red, voice hoarse from crying.
"Don’t move. Sit still."
She stopped.
He stayed on his knees in front of her, medicine in hand, face lifted just enough to keep her looking at him.
This was the whole point of kneeling.
The angle did half the work for him. It was intimate, wrong-looking, and suggestive enough to make her imagination finish the rest.
How else was he supposed to bait her?
