“What the hell were you doing?” Walter demanded.

“What’s it to you?” Diego scowled back. “You don’t even know this girl.”

Walter was trying to hold it together, I could tell by his trembling fists and clenched jaw.

“Try it Walter,” a smug smirk slipped onto Diego’s face. “Fight me. Carlos and the boys are right around the corner.”

Walter wouldn’t be able to beat four Santiagos at once, and they both knew it. Diego was trying to rile him up enough for him to attempt it anyway, but thankfully Walter was withstanding.

“Move on, Diego,” Walter growled, stiffly stepping backwards, away from him and towards me.

Diego scoffed, “Whatever man, if you’re into basic blonde bitches.”

Walter’s nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply and he was seconds from striking out at the rival gang member when I reached out to grasp the fabric of the back of his hoodie on impulse.

Walter froze, his body tensing up, and then I felt him relax. Once I was sure he wasn’t going to blow up, I let go and Walter stayed still for a moment. Sighing, he then turned around and faced his back to Diego, who walked off to join the others with a grunt of dissatisfaction.

Walter said nothing and dropped down to pick up my shopping. I hadn’t caught my breath back and so it took me a few seconds to process what was going on before I bent down to collect some of the food stuff as well. Walter placed a packet of spaghetti and a few bags of salad into one bag whilst I finished gathering boxes of tea and cereal.

“Thank you,” I said to him, making sure my eyes were on the bags on shopping and not on him as he handed them back over to me.

“No problem,” Walter said, still sounding immensely pissed off.

I risked a glance at him at the same time that he lifted his own gaze from the ground to look at me. His hazel eyes widened in shock.

“That cut needs to be cleaned up,” he held his hand out to my neck but I flinched back.

I hadn’t even noticed I had been cut to be honest, but as soon as he said it I could feel the sting.

“It’s not too bad,” I mumbled, trying not to get him angry again.

“No,” Walter shook his head. “I don’t like the look of it.”

Somewhere deep within me, I felt a swell of emotion over what he had said.

“I can clean it up for you,” Walter offered, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t live very far from here.”

He was about to raise his hand to my skin a second time before he stopped himself, wanting to check it out but not wanting to make me flinch again. I was too busy thinking about how Walter Simpson could honestly feel concerned for me, than to realise what he was suggesting.

“No,” I blurted.

“What?” he frowned in confusion.

“I’m fine, I’ll go home,” I answered and went to walk past him. “It’s a tiny cut, I’ll live.”

“But,” Walter walked by my side. “I insist.”

I regarded him closely. If he had cruel intentions, maybe he wouldn’t have been so good to me these few times. His dark brows were still creased and I wanted to assure him there was nothing to worry about.

“I’m really fine,” I said more calmly.

“Okay then,” Walter said, and then cracked an unexpected smile. “I was just trying to be nice after all.”

His smile made me almost lose my grip on the bags, making them rustle loudly.

“Shit, I’ll take that,” Walter pulled them off of me, not giving me a chance to object.

“Thank you,” I said, unsure what to do next.

“Don’t worry about it, isn’t it obvious that I don’t want to hurt you?” Walter asked, sounding serious.

I risked another glance at him and saw that he looked almost disappointed.

“Okay,” I said, surprising myself with what I said next. “Let’s go then.”

He smiled at me again and I smiled back, ignoring the stinging from my neck.