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You’ve done plenty of stupid things in your life, as a child when it could be excused as a simple mistake, as a teenager with hormones and rebellion taking over your mind, and, of course, as a full-fledged adult.
This feels like it might take the cake, though.
In your defense, really, when you did a majority of the damage, you weren’t really thinking about how you had a doctor's appointment with Zayne the following week. No, everything just hurt, and every single bad thought about how your grandmother passed away and Caleb died was swirling around in your head.
Right, the point is, you kind of have a problem now. A major one as you settle into the waiting room. Your jacket offers the only layer of protection against you and…well, a psych ward. Probably.
Not to mention Zayne…God, you don’t even know what he’d say.
“Oh! MC, you’re here earlier than expected.” Yvonne greets you with a tired smile. “Eager to get that check-up, huh?”
No, not really, you think. “You bet.” She nods, going to her computer, and everything suddenly becomes a little too real. “Actually, uh, do you think we can push this back? Maybe a week or.. or two; that’d be good.”
Yvonne gives you a curious look. “Why? You are already here.”
You respond with an uneasy smile. “Well, I was just wondering…”
“Dr. Zayne is really particular about your checkups.” Yvonne says gently. “I think he likes making sure you are doing well.”
Your heart skips a beat even with your stomach feeling like it’s being turned into a pretzel. “I know he does,” even if he has odd ways of showing it somehow.
“MC?” You startle at the voice. Zayne is peeking out of his office, looking at you. “If you’re already here, come in.”
You want to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You’ll take Yvonne’s judgment any day over Zayne’s. “Ah, well, I haven’t gotten my vitals checked yet.”
“I can do that. Come in.” Zayne repeats, before vanishing behind the door.
Yvonne smiles a little. “Well, you heard him, doctors’ orders.”
You swallow, feeling your palms grow sweaty. “Yeah, nice to see you, Yvonne.”
Most of the time, seeing Zayne is great. It’s like all the comforts of the past wrapped up in the now.
You’d rather be anywhere else right now, though.
“There are nurses and stuff who can do this instead.” You point out, heart beating against your ribcage as you sit down into the chair.
Zayne blinks, seemingly more focused on getting the needle sterilized to take your blood than he is on what you're saying. “If you are worried about my qualifications, I have a few degrees you can take a look at on my wall.”
“Very funny.” You mumble back, eyes glued onto Zayne’s hands and the way they are getting closer and closer to your right arm, and he’s just about to drag down the sleeve of your jacket when you jerk your arm back to your chest. “Wait!” You shout, right arm braced against your chest. “Just give me a second—“
“I didn’t think a hunter would be afraid of getting her blood drawn.” Zayne says, gaze equal measures confused and concerned. “You’ve been on high alert this whole time; is there something going on?”
You don’t know where to start. How were you supposed to explain to Zayne that you cut yourself for comfort just a few nights ago?
“I already asked Yvonne, but I really think we should move this visit back.” You say, preparing to get up out of your seat and bolt.
Then you feel Zayne’s hands on your shoulders, heavy and firm. “There is something going on.” He concludes. “Come on, tell me.”
“I did something stupid,” you start. And once those words come out, it’s like a dam bursts, and the next flurry comes out with you barely thinking. “I did something stupid, and you need to not freak out because I already know it was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking—I just needed to feel better, and I’m sorry—“
“MC!” Your mouth snaps shut. Zayne’s hands are still on your shoulders, but his face is a lot closer; you can feel his breath on your skin. “Calm down first; you are hyperventilating.”
Are you? You take a few test breaths that come out way too short, and yeah, you are. “Take deep breaths with me, and then you need to explain what happened.”
After three rounds of deep, careful breathing with Zayne by your side, you are finally able to level out your breathing. The anxiety is still tight in your stomach, but it’s a little less, more manageable. Zayne really is qualified.
“Alright, now, can you tell me what happened?” He asks.
Right, now the bad part.
“I wasn’t… I guess I wasn’t doing very well a few nights ago,” you can already feel your cheeks starting to get hot. “After Grandma and Caleb… I don’t know, just some nights are harder than others.”
Zayne is quiet, so you continue. “I don’t know why I did it, but I thought it would make me feel better.”
“What did you do?” Zayne asks, his tone unreadable. “Please, if it’s something serious, I need to know.”
“No, it’s not. I mean, they basically healed already if you really think about it.”
“MC, what already healed?”
You couldn’t explain it without crying or going into a borderline panic attack again. Your shoulders slump in defeat. Easier to just show Zayne. “Have a look.”
The last layer of protection is gone, and you can feel the cool air against your forearm. You focus on the floor, trying to avoid seeing any potential reaction from Zayne.
It feels like an eternity before there’s noise again. You dare a peek and see Zayne holding a roll of gauze and disinfectant. “You don’t have to do that; they’ve already scabbed.” You say, unsure of where this was going. “I know how to take care of some basic wounds; trust me.”
Zayne doesn’t reply, just walks back to your chair. “Just because they’ve scabbed over doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be taken care of.” He replies.
“Can we just skip to the part where you scold me or something? I really can’t take the tension.”
“I’m not going to scold you.” Zayne sighs, and just then you notice his hands shaking a little. “We’re going to talk about this later, properly; just let me take care of you first.”