I hear someone stomping up the stairs and put myself together. It’s not Lassys fault that mom left, and she probably does appreciate her life and knows that she’s lucky.

And even if she doesn’t, even if she takes her life for granted, maybe she just doesn’t know how few people are able to live a privileged life like her, doesn’t know what it’s like to struggle to somehow afford at least one meal per day, what it’s like to desperately crave someones attention.

Of course she heard about other countrys, about starving kids and dying soldiers, but all that is far away from the small, peaceful city we live in.

Lassy doesn’t bother knocking as she storms into the room breathlessly.

“Addy! You’re up!”, she screams, smiling at me brightly.

“Addy?”, I wonder with raised brows. Well, it’s better then Mr. Tumble, I guess.

“That your room?”, I ask her.

She hums, walking to the bedside. “Do you have to go to the toilet? I’ll gladly help you.”, she smirks.

I glare at her, already regretting calling her for help.

“So you don’t?”, she ask.

It’s embarrassing, cause honestly, if I don’t want to wet the bed like a little five year old I have to go to the toilet soon, like very, very soon, I really have to pee.

“Can you please ask your father to help me?”, I ask her.

“Dad’s giving lessons right now, but one of his disciples is helping mom in the kitchen today. In fact, he’s my cousin. If you want I can ask him, he’s a little weird but not too weird, if you know what I mean.”

No, I don’t.

But fact is that I couldn’t care less right now so I agree.

“Should I call him now or do you still want to talk a little?”, she asks.

“NOW!!!”, I shout, “And hurry the fuck up!”

She just laughs and leaves the room in a cruelly slow pace.

I groan, trying to move my arms and legs but failing miserably. I wonder how long it takes until I’m fully healed. I don’t think the nurse said anything.

It feels like hours later, but finally I can hear heavy steps on the stairs. Well, either Lassy gained a few pounds in the minutes she was gone or she really sent someone up to help me.

A few seconds later, someone knocks at the door. At least someone in this family has some manners. I tell them to enter, whereon the bloody locker room guy enters.

I groan, letting my head, the only major part of my body I can move fall back on the surprisingly soft pillow.

Man, her bed feels like heaven, so incredibly soft and smooth… you could think I was in paradise if it weren’t for the idiot still standing in the door frame.

“So, nice to see you again, I think. Could you please come a little nearer so I can finally hit you?”

I look at him with puppy dog eyes. I know I’m irresistible like that, or in other words, fucking cute. “Pretty please?”, I say.

He looks at me flabbergasted.

I flutter with my eyelashes at him, making him blush. Fucking blush. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Or could you at least help me? I really need to pee.”

He blushes even more. “How can I help you?”, he asks finally.

“Well, I obviously can’t walk or even sit up or move my arms, so I guess I need help with everything. I would have been alright with Lassy carrying me to the toilet or stripping me down, but the rest is a little too inappropriate, don’t you think?”

“You think a girl seeing you naked is appropriate?”, he frowns.

“I only said it would be more inappropriate if she would touch some rather private parts of mine. Not that it would be appropriate, idiot. By the way, could you tell me your name? Unless you want me to continue calling you idiot. Although I wouldn’t really mind that...”

“Uh… my name’s Damian. Damian Brooks, but my friends usually call me Brooks.”

“So Damian it is. Or would you prefer Dammy? Wait, that’s a little like dummy, I like it. It suits you, Dammy.”

I guess there's also something wrong with my brain. Why did I say that? Concussion. Definitely a concussion, not my fault...

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he asks me. “You need my help, don’t you? Don’t you think you should be a little nicer?”

“Sorry darling for not being nice to the person who pushed me down the whole freaking set of stairs and ran me over in a basketball match. That fucking hurt! And don’t forget, you threw a smelly sock at my face.”

“I… pushed you down the stairs?”, he asks, looking nervous.

“Yeah. Even if it wasn’t intentionally, you could have said sorry, you know.”, I grumble.

“And aside from that, that’s my personality, you don’t really expect me to change that, do you? I obviously can’t just turn it off.”

He looks at me with a hilarious expression.

“And if you don’t want me to wet the damn bed you should get your pretty ass over here and get me to the darn bathroom right about now.”, I groan.

“Alright… where can I touch you?” So nothing about the pretty ass part?

“I don’t know where you can touch me, but I would prefer you touching me somewhere I’m not hurt, so I guess… my tights and neck would be nice, but for safety issues maybe my back instead of neck?”

“And you couldn’t just let the first part be?”

“I mean, I could’ve? I merely didn’t want to.”

“You’re unbelievable.”, he says and grabs me carefully and unexpectedly gently, carrying me out of the room.

“Unbelievable sexy?”, I ask, sending him an air kiss.

He flushes scarlet, making me laugh heartedly. I can’t help but like him. He really isn’t like I thought he would be. In that case, he would have an even worse time right now. I may not be physically strong but I can drive people to make bad decisions by only using words, making them loose everything.

It's actually kinda fun to be honest.