Chapter 3
-Wesley-
I don’t know what I expected Kat’s fabled brother and bodyguard to be like, but he took me by surprise. At first, he was both more intimidating than I had imagined yet also more approachable than I had expected.
And then he passed out.
He looked so weak and vulnerable as he lay bleeding on the ground, his eyes screwed shut in slight pain at the wound to his head. Another thing which surprised me, was his tattoos. I hadn’t even registered them properly to begin with; I saw that he had knuckle tattoos but I didn’t look at the designs.
And then I became aware that Kat’s grip on Kirrill’s hand was hurting him, so I stopped cleaning the blood from his head with a damp cloth for a moment, so that I could take his hand from hers and place it on his chest instead.
It was then that I really looked at his tattoos, and they weren’t at all what I would have expected someone in a gang to have, especially over their knuckles, concealing (but not fully) the repeated scarring to his knuckles.
What could be seen of the scars suggested that they were old; the tattoos must have been used to hide the scars but perhaps, they were also a promise to Kirrill himself. A promise to stop injuring his hands like that. Injuring them on other people, that is.
As I place his hand down on his chest, I absentmindedly smooth my fingertips atop the daisy chain idling across his knuckles. The design is so detailed, so dainty, so fragile. It is simply…beautiful. There is one daisy on each of his main four knuckles, attached by a thin and careful string of stems. The tattoo artist must have been extremely skilful, having managed to work Kirrill’s scars into the artwork so that they both enhance it and hide themselves better.
The shading along the daisy petals is so faint, at points it isn’t even there, instead using the scarring to darken the petals. Not a single line is thick and dark, instead the entire piece seems to be comprised of the most delicate of touches.
It truly is lovely.
It takes me a moment before I am able to continue cleaning Kirrill’s head wound, the sight of his blood bringing me out of my reverie. I know that head wounds tend to bleed a lot, even if they aren’t that bad, but I am still a little worried for this man’s safety.
Helping Kirrill to lean against the wall once he properly regains consciousness again, I give him some food and water, not entirely sure why the guy passed out but he looks a little shaky so hopefully an energy burst will help him.
Kat continues to panic in the corner, apologising to Kirrill and saying that it’s her fault this happened - I have no idea what she’s on about, and her crying in his ear probably isn’t helping Kirrill’s head right now. Based on personal experience, he probably has a headache right now, from hitting it hard enough to bleed, and after hurting my head I’d always just want to sleep and stay in the dark and silence.
But that could’ve been because of how I was feeling emotionally too.
“Kat…it’s fine…I’m fine…” Kirrill mumbles, his eyes closed and his fingers gripping tightly onto the water bottle I gave him. Shuffling back over to the two, I tap Kat’s shoulder, bringing her attention to me and helping her to stand up.
“Can we talk really quickly?” I ask quietly, my eyes shifting over to Kirrill’s for a fraction of a second, before realising that he was looking at me and I quickly look away. I can feel his gaze linger on me for a moment longer before out of my peripheral vision I watch as he closes his eyes again, resting back against the wall.
Leading Kat back over to the counter, I chew on my lips for a moment wondering how to say this. She already was extremely emphatic about not taking Kirrill to the hospital, and yeah he seems ok, but I don’t know, what if he’s concussed or something?! Not likely, but I don’t know any actual medical shit.
“Kat. I know you were planning on doing something later, but I think you should just take him home, and stay there. So he doesn’t have to look out for you, and can get some rest. The poor guy looks shattered,” I suggest gently, hoping that my friend will find it in that big gangster heart of hers to look out for her friend.
With a sigh, she nods, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “I need to sort my shit out, I know I do. Because of last night, because of my actions, my dad punished Kirrill and that’s why he’s in such a rough state right now. It’s my fault that he passed out and hurt his head, fuck I shouldn’t have left the house in the first place, I just- normally I don’t care, right? And I know I’m a shitty person but that’s how I’ve always been, but I-“ Kat stops suddenly, taking a massive breath before sighing slowly.
“I need to sort myself out. I don’t want to keep hurting the people around me, and I can’t keep playing it off as all fine, I can’t keep convincing myself that Kirrill is fine dealing with all the shit I put him through. I just…I don’t know where to start,” Kat whispers quietly, and I smile gently, pulling her into a hug.
This is my best friend. This is the girl I became friends with; the one trying her best, the one always striving to better herself. Somewhere along the way, she became complacent with her self improvement and slowly began regressing. I know that she’s far better than she could be, given her situation, but strip away everything, and thinking about just her…
She gets her friends into trouble, lets them continuously take the fall for her, and doesn’t show remorse for doing so. But she is also incredibly self aware, and she isn’t heartless. She doesn’t want to hurt the people around her, even if she isn’t the one directly hurting them.
She doesn’t want to hurt Kirrill.
“Kat…start by looking after him. I know things are tricky with him having to monitor your every move, but talk to him and work out ways for you to have your space without him having to suffer for it,” I offer, trying to tread the line between ‘giving advice’ and being the ‘therapist friend’.
Kat nods into my shoulder, giving me a small squeeze before pulling back. “Yeah, I’m gonna- I’m gonna take him home, we can just hang out there. And maybe I’ll talk to my dad too, explain that I should be the one responsible for my actions, and not Kirrill. If he wants me to act like an adult, then he should treat me like one too.”
Smiling softly, I pat Kat’s arm before turning back to look at Kirrill. He’s in the exact position that we left him, but he looks a little more stressed now; his eyebrows pinched together and his fingers clenched, bunching up the material of his shirt.
Glancing back over at Kat, I nudge her in his direction. “Take him home. You can leave your motorbikes here for now, I’ll make sure no one steals them.”
Kat nods, giving me a quick hug before shaking Kirrill gently and attempting to help him to his feet, although he refuses the assistance. “I’ll send some of the boys over later to get our bikes. Have a good rest of your shift,” Kat tells me awkwardly, knowing that having an unconscious gangster on the floor kind of turns away customers.
But it’s fine, my shifts at this time are generally dead as fuck anyway, plus it’s hardly my problem if we lose five customers because of the surprise drama we had going on in here.
My friend helps Kirrill out of the shop and I can’t help but worry slightly about him - he looks like shit honestly, he should probably get some good sleep and eat something nutritious.
Even with all that going on though, he’s still pretty hot. Irrelevant, I remind myself, but there’s no harm in checking out a random guy I’ll probably never see again.
Making it home after my shift and the bikes were picked up, I head straight to my room and flop down on the bed. Today was far too dramatic for my liking; I’d much rather have just had a boring shift where the time drags on forever.
Someone knocks on my door and I let out a grunt to signify that they may enter. The bed sinks next to me and a warm hand rests on my shoulder. “Wes? Did something happen at work today?” Maddie asks gently.
Rolling onto my back so that I can see my older sister, I mumble something about just being tired. She doesn’t look convinced however, and after a sigh I sit up, trying again. “Kind of…problems with Kat, I guess. Or problems about Kat.”
I hate drama with a passion. It makes me unbelievably stressed and I detest conflict of any kind; yes, a physical fight makes my throat close up as memories flood my brain and prevent me from breathing, but heated verbal disagreements make me just want to go dig a hole and live there forever.
In short, I don’t like having arguments with anyone. That’s probably how I became kind of a pushover; at university I’ve always just done whatever people told me so as to avoid having any problems. But I’ve been trying to stand up for myself more, trying to…assert my dominance is what Kat said, which just makes me laugh out loud.
“What’s wrong with Ekaterina?” Maddie asks gently, glancing over at me. Shrugging, I stare at the ceiling. “She needs to sort some of her own shit out. Like personality and behaviour shit, not gang-related shit. And I don’t know- she’s aware that she needs to make some adjustments, and she’s said she’s going to try, but…it just stresses me out, having to talk to her about this kind of thing. It feels like I’m being mean.”
Maddie nods, letting out a hum. “I get that. But if she’s said she’ll sort it, or try to, then what’s the problem?”
Groaning, I roll back onto my front and smush my face in my pillow. “I don’t even know. I think today was just a lot,” I mumble, knowing that Maddie probably wouldn’t have even understood half of what I said because of the pillow smothering me.
Patting my shoulder again, Maddie chuckles lightly. “That’s fair enough, just take it easy ok? And I’m always here to talk if you want to,” she says softly. Smiling into the cushion, I hug it tightly. I love my family so much, I really do.
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