Further adventures of Emily and Mike (names changed). Can be read in series or standalone, background in Part 1.
Mini Chapter.
Tess-O'Meter -- Green!
I froze as someone thumped the door.
11.30pm.
I wasn't expecting anyone, which explained why I had been enthusiastically playing air guitar to very loud rock, and was now sweaty, red faced and puffing.
'Oh Joy!' I thought as I passed the hall mirror.
My hair looked like I had been electrocuted.
"Who's there?" I called, my voice trembling with exertion.
"It's K-."
That was strange.
I opened the door and K- plus a mate were stood there, supported between them was Mike.
I gasped at the bruise, blooming on his forehead, around a taped up cut and blood down his face, neck, and clothing.
"What the hell?"
K- peered behind me.
"Sorry Emily, are you alone?"
"Of course. What happened?"
"Are you sure. You weren't," he paused, "busy!"
"I was exercising," I glared at him.
"It takes effort to maintain the body of a fertility Goddess you know."
Laughing, K- and his friend walked Mike through the door and propped him against the wall.
"Someone spilt some beer in the bar. Mike slipped and cracked his head, hadn't even had a drink, he was just being clumsy."
"Did the emergency department do the cut?"
"Yea, they glued it, then taped it. He's got a slight concussion. He's okay but can't be left alone."
"And you want to get back to your night out."
"Come on Em, it's T's 30th," K- looked pained.
"Okay, what do I need to know?"
"He can sleep, but if he vomits, or seems disoriented when awake you need to call in for advice. That's it."
"Charming, how about painkillers?"
"Just Paracetamol, but not for at least two hours," K- confirmed.
"Go on then, bugger off, have fun."
K- kissed my cheek, "Thanks Emily, any problems give a shout."
"It's fine, text me in the morning."
Locking the door behind them I turned to Mike.
I kissed him gently, rubbing my lips across his. The pain in his eyes was clear.
"Headache huh?"
"Fucking bastard of a headache," he replied weakly.
"Well, you're not going to put up much of a fight tonight are you?" I teased.
He tried to smile, but instead just rubbed his hands over his face, "Sorry Em."
I pulled him off the wall and supported him with an arm around his waist.
"You smell like a bar, let's get you cleaned up."
Thankfully, the property I was renting this time was on one level, and luxury.
The bathroom was a work of art and included a walk-in sunken tub, which I had every intention of getting Mike into, I just hadn't anticipated this situation.
I dimmed the lights and sat Mike on a chair.
He sat, limp with his eyes closed as I carefully removed his clothes.
Wrinkling my nose and kicking them into the corner, because urgh gross.
He held on, as directed, to the sink as I pulled his jeans down his hips (why so tight?) swaying like he was drunk. I sat him down again sharpish, before pulling his jeans over his ankles.
"Going commando, were you?"
He almost smiled.
I started the bath running and then started to wipe the blood from Mike's face and neck.
It had run down his chest as well.
I'm not a huge fan of blood, but he seemed so fragile, I just wanted to take care of him and continued to use delicate little movements to stroke most of the blood away.
Through his hair as well, being super careful of the wound and not to jar his head.
"That actually feels really nice," he mumbled, his head resting on my tummy.
"Don't go to sleep yet," I warned.
He just sighed.
When the bath was ready, not too hot, I guided Mike over, making him sit on the floor and dangle his legs into the tub.
