The Story of Blood and Roses

"Come here," he patted on a spot on the bed that was directly in front of him. I saw that he had placed some cotton, gauze and spirit on the bedside table.

I did as he asked and found himself sitting in front of him. My eyes curiously devoured the older man's face, trying not to miss even a single feature that could help me deduce further on his character and position.

"Show me your arm, dear," he asked me soothingly. I rolled up the arm of my shirt and saw that I couldn't reach it over the wound. I winced as I felt the uncomfortable pressure over my wound.

"I'll bring you something to change into," I heard a grumble from across the room. Risking a glance, I saw that he still looked angry, but there was worry in his features. His feet padded on the floor as he crossed the room and went into his closet. Somewhere in my mind, the image of the last time I had seen him behind those stained glasses emerged in my head. I shook the thoughts of naked silhouettes out of my head and concentrated on Anthony's clothes form that glided across the dresser and he collected things. I heard the muted ringing of his phone and concentrated further on him.

I heard someone snicker. My head snapped towards the direction to see that the doctor had a small, but amused smile on his face. Disturbed that he had caught me in the act on following Anthony's every move, I looked down and concentrated on the pressure he was putting on my arm.

"What a pleasant surprise, Luke!" I recognized the irritation in his voice. "Of course, I loved the present you sent me, you motherfucker!" he roared. My eyes widened as I listened closer. His voice dropped a few notches and it became a bit difficult to hear him. But I managed to make out his words. "I hope you realize that this means war, Luke. I'll be coming at you. Be prepared." With that, the call was ended.

I kept my eyes downcast as I heard the door of the closet close and the footsteps come towards me. I saw a few materials hit the bed beside me and glanced up.

"Get changed," he ordered and then went back to his earlier position of leaning against the closed door. I took up the cut t-shirt that he had given me and with a faint smile directed at the doctor, sauntered off to the closet.

Closing the door behind me, I strategically started to undo the buttons. It was a mammoth task with one hand wounded. The pressure that the doctor had been applying to my wound had ended up making me conscious of the bullet lodged in my arm, and it stung like a bitch, now. I slowly dropped the arm to my side and then unbuttoned the rest of the buttons with my unwounded arm. After that, I mostly relocated a few times so that I could shrug out of one side of the jacket and then used my unwounded arm to extract the arm that hurt from the material. I muttered a curse as I felt the material slide against the aching spot. It was evident that some of the blood had dried and made the shirt stick to my skin. It was difficult coming out of that situation without hurting myself further. So, I did the best thing I could think of. Pulled it out of my arm in one go, just like pulling out a band-aid. It would suffice to say that it hurt.

From inside, I could hear parts of the conversation that was taking part outside the stained glass. I could hear the low, muffled voice of the doctor questioning Boss.

"She must be damned special if you are waging war over something that is an occupational hazard." He seemed rather interested in the reason behind that. I would dare to say that he sounded almost delighted by the prospect that someone was special to Anthony. "Michael?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"We've been planning on waging this war, as you put it, for quite some time now, Edward. There's nothing going on." He sounded so damn defensive that it almost made me laugh. I could imagine that he was a bit flustered at the sudden questions that were directed at him.

"It doesn't seem like that. I saw you drag her by her hand." The older man grew more amused by the minute.

"For god's sake, Edward, she's right here."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Michael, my boy. You have a crush on a girl. Every boy does. She's pretty looking too." It seemed that Anthony hissed something out after that, but I couldn't quite catch it.

Trying to be as inconspicuous about my spying as I can, I tried to put the cut up shirt that Anthony had given me. The act of raising my hand over my head, made me curse out loud and I heard a huff from outside.

"Do you want me to help you?" I heard him say from the other side.

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