ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴏᴠ

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

♛♛♛

She enters the home, gobsmacked and reluctant. The door closes quietly behind her, making sure she hadn't brought any attention to herself.

It was then she noticed that the home was awfully quiet, too quiet.

"Dad? Mum?" She called into the house, earning a single grunt from her father.

She walked further into the home, directly towards their kitchen. Her sight becomes fogged with her father's neutral state, his body clad in a work suit while his eyes follow the words on a piece of white paper in front of him.

"Hi Dad," She greeted, stepping forward and taking notice that the newly bought Vodka bottles hadn't been opened yet.

He looked up from the water bill and peered over at his only daughter. "How was the clinic Hazel?" he asked her in a flat tone.

She sighed and began to tug on the ends of her blue scrubs. "It was good. A little quieter today," she responded in a soft tone.

Without looking up, he nodded once in response and simply disregarded the anxious girl. Hazel took that as her cue to leave, retreating out of the kitchen and up the stairwell.

Arriving in her bedroom, she closed the door and made sure to lock it this time—even if her parents did have a key to open the door from the outside.

She threw her bag down onto the floorboard and sighed heavily as she untied her ponytail, allowing the silky red hair to breathe from the unbreathable style.

Her mind bristled with thoughts of the man from earlier on. Hazel has never been so fascinated and intrigued by a person—a man for more closure.

Julius seemed to have taken her breath away. Given the kind act he'd done her the night they met, he was also, admittedly, undeniably attractive.

His appearance was well intimidating, and he for sure scared the living bricks out of poor Hazel—but she was also forcibly attracted to this mysterious man.

Hazel had undressed out of her blue scrubs, taking a quick peek at her body in the mirror opposite her, and she nearly sighed aloud.

She's never been insecure, well, she has, just not overly. Her body wasn't one she was overly impressed with.

She had regular-sized breasts, she had a flat stomach with a little bit of a belly sometimes—but then when she ate the food she'd be bloated and then would have two rather large rolls.

Her thighs were not thin but they weren't thick either. The skin between touched inwardly. Her skin was pale, unfortunately, she wished she could tan but it was like the sun dismissed her and only decided to turn her red with skin burns.

She had freckles, all over her body. A few skidded across her cheeks and then more all around the tops of her arms. On both sides of her hips she had pink stretch marks, three on each side.

Hazel did admire herself from time to time—convincing herself that she was enough and she was true, beautiful.

She never believed it as much as she wanted to at times. Though, she did believe in faking it until making it.

And so, that was what she did.

Sliding into the steamed shower, she closed the curtain and stepped under the warm water immediately.

Her eyes closed and then memories sunk in again.

"Hazel?"

The girl looked up from her essay and widened her eyes as she saw her drunken mother.

"Yes?" She replied, contemplating inwardly if she should rise and help the woman out or to just leave her tumbling.

"It was your fault," Her mother whispered under her breath, her eyes narrowed and red as she managed to keep herself up against the threshold.

"What do you mean?" Hazel asked. She knew what she meant, this happened nearly every night.

She didn't know if she could take it anymore. The words that poured from the middle-aged woman's mouth.

"Her death... it was your fault,"

Hazel gulped. The woman's words struck her heart like prickly thorns against human flesh.

The look in her mother's eyes was nothing but hatred. Hatred for Hazel, but more for what she didn't do.

"I didn't mum," Hazel whispered and something inside her mother had triggered.

Her beady eyes widened as her face contorted into a sort of scowl mixed with a distasteful sort of look—a look Hazel only dissipated.

"How dare you!" Her mother hissed, lurching forward towards the young girl.

Her hand raised and Hazel flinched.

Hazel gasped for air, pulling her head out of the water and inhaling deeply for oxygen.

She coughed furiously and ran a hand down the side of her face as she gathered her soul back into its resting place.

Her head numbly snapped towards the water taps and immediately she turned the hot water off—leaving only the cold water for her to bathe in.

She grabbed her accustomed strawberry soap, pouring it along her body and then scrubbing away.

She scrubbed until the runny soap turned into white forms of foam. Covering her skin like a nestle of clouds.

Retracing into the cold water, her body was accustomed to it as the chilly moisture caressed her body—rinsing the foam away into liquid.

This process continued until she was completely satisfied. Turning the taps off, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a warm plush towel around her cool body.

Her legs moved on her own, treading lightly against the floorboards and over to her closet. She picked out a large t-shirt for her PJs, since it was a warmer night she wouldn't need anything too warm.

Placing the shirt over her head, it dropped down past mid-thigh and caressed her body.

Hazel did her nightly skincare routine. Cleansing her skin and then applying her nightly moisturiser. She's always been big on skincare, ever since she was a little teen she's been taking good care of it.

After that, she jumped into her bed and took out her MacBook, adjusting the screen to her liking and then logging in.

She planned on getting a good two hours worth of work done tonight, making sure to also drown the distractions out with her music.

Since Hazel couldn't be bothered paying for Spotify premium, she had no choice but to shuffle the playlist and let whatever songs come to her.

Hazel studied Medical Assistance and Literature. Completely two different majors though she was utterly passionate about both.

She still didn't know what she wanted to do after college... she hadn't thought that far ahead. College was merely a distraction for study, maybe even an excuse.

Hazel had taken Medical Assistance because of her job in the clinic. They had trained her for a month or so before she could actually start working, and of course, had to take multiple courses online—they were easy to complete.

She had two quizzes to complete in her Medical Assistance course, and in her Literature she had a single hand-in essay. Both of these were due during this coming week, luckily nothing was due tomorrow—being Monday.

For the time being, Hazel continued her studies. Her handwriting free along the pages and pages of work, in-between also typing and researching.

It was absolutely exhausting by the end of it, weirdly her parents hadn't interrupted her once which was just a case of good luck on her hands tonight.

Usually, one of them would be stumbling into her room, screaming or shouting. She took out an earbud, just to hear if anything was going down.

As assumed, the music was blaring down the stairs and the sounds of clattering could be heard too.

She sighed, defeated. Defeated because she thought that maybe for once they would have stopped—maybe tonight they would just give it a break.

They didn't though. Of course not.

Hazel packed her things away, piling all her books into one neat pile and then placing them into their original place. She grabbed her school bag, placing what she needed for tomorrow, inside.

After that, she closed her curtains and turned out the light. Slipping back into her comfortable bed, she absorbed into the cool sheets, resting her head against the cushiony pillow and closing her eyes.

As she did, the man she met again today came into view.

His strong cheekbones, reckless scars that told multiple stories, full lips—red as a red apple. Etched jaw, grey eyes coated with thick dark lashes along with the almost lifeless gaze hidden beneath them.

To say she was mesmerised would be an understatement.

Even if his intimidating nature had completely made her uneasy, she still felt this complete allure towards him.

Snuggling further into the pillow, her tired conscious fell right into bliss with the thoughts of the intoxicating, yet, intimidating man.

♛♛♛

Empty bottles of Smirnoff was trashed along the kitchen counter. Two clear glasses laid upon the counter, emptied of their contents.

Hazel frowned and picked up the bottles, placing them aside. She then picked up the two signature glasses and placed them into the dishwasher.

She noticed both of her parents' car keys were gone, meaning they left the house bright and early this morning.

Hazel had a good ten minutes to get to her school—which was an exact ten-minute drive, depending on traffic. Her first class starts at 9:30 and the time was exactly 9:20. To say she wasn't freaking out would be a complete lie.

She grabbed her car keys, shoving a chocolate chip cookie into her mouth and claiming it as her breakfast—she rushed out of the door and pressed the unlock button on her car keys.

Tossing her bag into the passenger seat, she quickly turned the ignition on and backed out of the small driveway.

Once she was on the main roads, she felt much more at ease and then presumed to make it her mission to get to school on time.

Today wasn't that big of a day for her. Only having a few classes to attend to, she was relieved she could rest her head for the remainder of the day.

Her eyes skidded towards the time as she arrived in the parking lot. She had exactly two minutes to run out of her car and make it to her class.

Parking the vehicle, she grabbed her bag and took out the keys from the ignition hole. Slamming the door open, she quickly shut it and locked the car, fast walking towards the college doors.

As much as Hazel needed to make it to class—the embarrassment of her running would be the legitimate end of her humanity.

Given the girl could hardly even keep up a workout at the gym for a good half hour, the look of her running as if her life was on the line was not something made for the human eye to see.

She fast-walked to her class which was only down the very long corridor.

Passing many lecture classes, she submerged through students making sure not to push them over by passing—although with her small body she was nothing but an ant under their gaze.

Unfortunately, as her eyes were clearly on the lecture door so very close to her reach, she collided into a body out of sight.

Stumbling back, she flinched at the harsh, rock-hard chest she had run into and almost fell to the ground.

But arms had caught her just in time. Strong, large arms wrap around the girl's waist as they steady her in place.

Flushed Hazel opened her eyes, obscured by darkness but then immediately met with the light that surrounded the certain darkness.

"Julius?"

His silver eyes bored into hers, classically making her squirm under his terrifying gaze.

"Hazel." He replied. His hands slowly retracted from her plush body and came to his sides—while Hazel herself contemplated what to do now.

Suddenly her class that would have started about a minute ago was long forgotten now—only the boy, no, the man in front of her that stood tall towering over the flushed girl, had occupied her entire mindset.

Dumbfounded and confused, she blurted whatever came to her head.

"W-What are you—

"Dropped something off," He replied without letting her finish her sentence. Her mouth closed abruptly and she nodded her head slowly.

She then remembers the night before, the stab wound she had to fix coming back to mind.

"How is your injury?" She asked him, patting her own side in motion towards his wound.

He stared at her intensely, almost as if he were studying her. Her hand movements caught his attention, viewing as he glanced towards her unharmed side—where she patted—and then returned to her eyes.

"It's fine." He replied in an almost bored tone.

She seemed to realise that his only form of tone was either complete impassiveness or complete zero emotion. Both are practically the same thing.

Hazel nodded, but then frowned—wondering if he took her medical advice or not. "Did you change the bandages this morning as I said too?"

Small confidence had ignited within her, the protectiveness she had over her patients seemed to have alight. She always wanted to make sure they got treated properly and that they were fixed.

He rose an eyebrow up in response—her gaze immediately glimpsed at the scar slicing through it, captivating her curiosity once again.

"I didn't," He admitted, bluntly. Her eyes widened at his honesty, she didn't know whether to be mad or worried.

Mad, because he hadn't done what she said—and worried, because his cut could be infected, again.

She remembered the small first aid kit she kept in her bag because she was as clumsy as ever and in case of emergency.

"Are you heading home right now?" She asked, trying to not sound like a stalker with the said question.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, he shook his head once—coming off amused without expression, or he looked to be anticipating her motives—Hazel couldn't tell which.

"Can I change it for you then?" She glanced around the corridor—already trying to find a vacant place to practice on.

"It's important. The cut could get infected and then lead to a much bigger issue for you," She rambled away, finding a single unisex bathroom next to them.

Hazel looked back at the man who hadn't spoken still. Silently pleading for his confirmation.

Mindlessly staring at the worrisome girl, he nodded once and that was all it took for her to grab his hand and drag them to the restroom.

Tingles, sparks, you name it, flew right up her arm—she nearly dropped his hand in the process because of it.

It was strange, nothing she's ever felt before beneath her touch. She ignored the strange sensation and dragged the two into the small room.

Hazel let go of this hand as they made it inside the small bathroom. She went over to the toilet seat and closed the lid, sitting down on top of it.

As she rummaged through her bag for her kit, the man before her had closed the door and leaned against it. Eyes watching the flustered girl look nearly furiously through her bag.

Finding the kit, she smiled proudly and tossed her bag onto the floor. She opened the smaller pouch and took out the small rubbing alcohol bottle and then also took out another bandage.

She looked up from the cotton balls she was wetting with acid and motioned her other hand for the man to come over.

As he stood off the entrance and gradually strolled over to the girl, he peered at her coldly, his light eyes absolutely lifeless.

"You don't go to school here?" She asked him, motioning him to lift his shirt with her hand. He shook his head, one hand lifting his black shirt and the other digging deep into his pocket.

Hazel resisted the need to look at his ripped, strong form and instead concentrated on the wound.

She cautiously removed the bandages from the previous night's incision and quickly applied disinfectant to the clean wound.

"What do you study?" The man spoke for the third or fourth time being in the presence of the young girl.

Her heart nearly leapt with joy as he asked her a question. When people asked her questions, which wasn't very often, Hazel was always overjoyed. She enjoyed giving definitive answers, but they always seemed to flee afterwards.

So she kept things light—hoping that the one person who seemed to have put up with her long enough would stay.

"I study Medical and Literature," She answered casually, tossing the dirty cotton ball into the bin beside her and then grabbing a new bandage.

"What do you do?" Hazel then asked him softly, curious about the intimidating man. He was staring at her with narrowed, piercing eyes, and she was entirely oblivious to them.

"I run businesses." He replied coldly and shortly, once again. She frowned at the little detail he gave her, though she didn't question it any further.

She scrunched up the packing and dumped it into the bin after applying the new gauze.

"All done," She whispered and his hand instantly released the shirt he was gripping—easily dropping back down to obscure his scarred, tatted chest.

Hazel rose up and stuffed her belongings back into her bag, zipping it up and slinging it over her shoulder.

The male opened the door, standing to the side and holding it open for the girl. Hazel blushed, completely not used to this sort of behaviour from anyone and as she scooted past him, she muttered a quiet thank you.

Hazel waited aside for the man, her eyes lingering over him as he strode right out of the bathroom—letting the door slam closed behind him.

The corridor they were in was a lot quieter now, although fewer students lingered around—and all had their eyes on him.

Everyone knew who Julius was—there wasn't a single person in this town or towns' who didn't. All except for Hazel, who had absolutely no idea who she was obsessing over.

It was clear that the man in front of her was breathtaking, and she had no doubt that all eyes would be on him the entire time. But, Hazel was completely oblivious to the terrified looks that lurked beneath the eager gazes.

"Where's your class?" He asked her, peering at his expensive watch emotionlessly. She pointed a weak finger down the hall, towards the very last classroom.

He nodded and started turning that way, having Hazel stupidly stumble behind him. His long strides were hard to keep up with. Noticing, he slowed for her.

She was grateful he did, her small yet unfit body couldn't take any more exercise for the day. When they silently made it to the class, the door was closed—leading Hazel anxious.

"I'm gonna get in a lot of trouble," She mumbled to herself, her eyes eyeing the door—contemplating whether or not to enter.

"You won't." He grumbled sternly, latching his hand onto the handle and turning the knob. Hazel's eyes widened as he strode right through the door, entering the class.