Page 80 of Creatures Like Us

Where is he, where is he?…

I look for him in the kitchen, in the bedrooms, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s the middle of the night still—the worldoutside the windows dark and unwelcoming. At last, I check the bathroom.

There he is. Sifting through the medicine cabinet above the sink, a bottle of pills in his hands.

“What are you doing?” I ask sharply.

Asher startles at the sound of my voice and turns around. I stride up to him, crowd him up against the sink, and grip his wrist so hard he drops the bottle. It clatters to the floor.

“I-I was just?…” His eyes are wide as he stares up at me, then down at my brutal grip on his wrist.

“Just what?” I snap. The relief I should feel at finding him refuses to arrive. For a split second, I thought he’d left me, and that overwhelming fear now manifests in anger. Not to mention the dubious position I’ve found him in: with a bottle of pills in his hand, like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I-I was just looking for the first aid kit,” he says, chest heaving. “Noah, please, you’re scaring me.”

I let go of his wrist and take a step back. No longer being held up by my body crushed against his, Asher drops down an inch, breathing hard.

I point to the bottle of pills. “What were you doing with those?”

“I told you; I was looking for the first aid kit, and they were in the way.”

I remain quiet, suspicious, and Asher sighs in frustration.

“Don’t believe me? Look at the label. They’re laxatives—a little hard to get high off those, don’t you think?”

I clench my jaw. “Okay.”

I believe him. Even if he had been looking for pills to get high off, I would have helped him with his cravings rather than judged him. There’s no shame in pain like that. I never want him to think I’m judging him; I just don’t know how to say it the right way, especially not now, after he just scared me so badly.

His eyes widen. “Noah, you’re bleeding.”

I glance down at my naked body, and yes, he’s right; the gash on my lower belly is trickling with blood once more.

“This is why I told you we should patch it up,” Asher says, a worried crease between his brows.

“It’s fine.” What care do I have for my body? As long as I can move freely enough to touch Asher, and as long as I can talk to him, that’s all I need.

“Where’s the first aid kit?”

I reach above the medicine cabinet, grab the box stowed away there, and hand it to him.

He nods. “Good. Sit on the toilet seat.”

“I bet I can patch up a wound better than you can, Goldilocks.”

He clenches his jaw. “I don’t care if you can do it better. I’m the one who did this to you, and I’m the one who’s going to fix it.”

I do as he says, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. Asher flicks on the ceiling light and kneels in front of me.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice thick with tears. “I’m sorry I did this. I got carried away. I never wanted to?…?to hurt you like this.”

“It’s okay. You wanted this, and I wanted it too, remember?”

“Yeah, but?…?wasn’t it too much?” The hand holding the first aid kit starts shaking so badly I have to grab the box from his hand and place it on the sink. “What are we even doing, Noah?” he whines. “What am I doing to you? It’s not okay. It shouldn’t be okay.”

I grab his wrist, locking his eyes with mine. “But you like it.Ilike it.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Sit still. Just let me take care of you and make this right.”