*Disclaimer- scenes within this chapter may be too gruesome or cause some discomfort for certain viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.*
“Hm, hmm!” Joel cleared his throat being them. Porter quickly turned to face him, his cheeks were already bright red.
“Joel!” Porter exclaimed before making his way to the kitchen to put some space between himself and Kyte.
“What happened to your leg?” Joel asked as Porter began making a cup of tea for him and Kyte.
Porter looked to Kyte before answering. He wasn’t sure what to say. “I got mugged on the street and fell over.” He lied. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but he wasn’t prepared for questions.
Joel laughed before going on with his game. Kyte helped Porter take the cups to the table, then they sat down.
The silence became awkward. Porter racked his brain for something to say. He finally settled upon, “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve done nothing.” He sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay though.” He smiled half-heartedly.
Porter didn’t know how to stop him from feeling guilty since he didn’t completely understand why he was feeling that way.
He really wanted to know why Kyte felt so protective of him. Maybe it was a werewolf thing.
“Where do you live?” Porter asked Kyte.
“I live in the suburbs. About half an hour away.” He replied. He was obviously looking for a conversation starter as well.
“How did we know each other before?” Porter asked. He wasn’t sure if he had already asked this or not, but he asked again anyway.
“We had known each other since high school. We were best friends.” Kyte told him, reluctant to say more. He looked sad again and Porter didn’t know how to fix it, so he offered him a smile instead. Kyte gave a tiny one in return. “You know, I was really nervous to meet you again.” He said while twirling his mug around, which was still half full of tea.
“You didn’t seem nervous. In my eyes, you were a very confident man who liked to brag about his grades.” Porter joked, giving Kyte a smirk to be sure that he knew it was a joke.
Kyte laughed at Porter’s attempt. “Why didn’t you run?” he said, suddenly serious. He sipped his tea as he waited for an answer.
“I don’t know. I wanted to know what it was, I was intrigued by it…” Porter took a breath, “I felt like I recognised it. Now I know why.” He laughed at his stupidity. “I guess if I had run, I might have never met you.”
Somehow the thought made him sad. He still didn’t understand why Kyte was causing all these new feelings. He hoped he found out eventually.
“Do you wish you hadn’t met me?” Kyte asked, averting his eyes.
“No. I’m glad I met you. Do you know how much I have already remembered? None of its good but at least I remembered it.” Porter sighed. He hoped he remembered something good soon.
“I’d rather you not remember any of that.” He finished his tea.
“What would you rather me remember?” Porter asked, trying to squeeze more out of him.
“You’ll find out eventually, when you remember everything.” He got up and put both our mugs in the sink.
A few minutes later he left the apartment. Porter breathed out; he didn’t know how much longer he could have held up a conversation.
Joel had gone out, leaving him alone in the house. He didn’t know what to do now that he didn’t have work or didn’t need to sleep. He hadn’t had free time in a while, usually on weekends he is out running errands.
With a pang of fear, he realised He was missing work. He looked to the phone, wondering how long it would take for him to walk there. He absolutely hated using the phone to talk to people, it nearly brought him to tears unless he was talking to someone he knew well.
Porter didn’t want to risk crying while talking to his boss, so he grabbed his bag, which was somehow back in his house, and wobbled out the door.
By the time he was halfway to work, he was getting used to the crutches. It was taking him twice as long to get there, but at least he didn’t have to call.
He made it through the automatic doors and saw one of his work colleagues, Jessica, at the front desk. He knew she wasn’t meant to work today, guilt washed over him as he approached her.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” She asked, coming around the counter to take a full look.
“I got attacked last night.” He decided to stick to the same story. “Do you know where the boss is so I can explain it to him?” Porter asked. He wanted to get this over and done with so he could go home.
“Yeah, I call him out.” She went out the back and came out a few minutes later with our boss in tow.
“You better have a good excuse.” He growled, only glancing over his leg. Porter knew this would be tricky.
“I was in the hospital all night. I was only released an hour ago.” He told him, hoping he would understand.
“I heard you got attacked last night. It doesn’t look that bad at all. Why do you need crutches for what looks like a scratch!” He glared down at Porter. “You should have been here on time. I don’t care if you scratched your leg.” His rage was growing.
“But sir, it couldn’t be helped.” Porter whispered; his boss scared him more than the werewolf who attacked him last night.
“Couldn't be helped, my ass!” he slammed his foot into Porter’s leg. Porter fell to the ground, slamming his knee against the tiles causing another shot of pain to run through his leg. He didn’t understand the cruelty of some people.