Not Again

"Nuru, oh no. Are you okay?" I didn't have to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhere, the only voice that made my blood pump faster.
What the hell? I bit my lower lip to get the familiar voice out of my mind. I was hallucinating. Roman was not here. He's not here. He's not here. He's not here. I tried to convinced herself feebly.
"Who's not here?" Kyle asked.
I groaned. Was I saying that out loud?
"You're hurt," Roman's hallucinatory voice continued, frantic. His voice was so close it fanned my eye lids.
Wait. Roman — is — back? There was no way I could've imagined the sweet smell of his mouth. That's one thought I never tried to entertain... ever. My creative mind would never fully capture something so pure... so calming.
My eyes flew open and I gasped. Oh no. My thoughts had been fuzzy. They didn't get the perfect curves of his face quite right. Dammit.
"Dammit, Nuru, what are you doing?" I'd never heard him so angry before but he also sounded amused. My cheeks colored and I grimaced. I looked horrible. How embarrassing. But more embarrassing was my hands touching his face, trying to engrave the outline of it on my head.
"What's going on here?" Roman asked with a glare at Kyle. "What did you do to her? And what the hell are you doing in my house?"
Kyle swallowed hard. "I didn't do anything I promise." He hesitated. "I mean she tried to... protect me against these guys who were —"
"So I'm right! It's your fault!" Roman roared through clenched teeth. "Better make sure this doesn't happen again."
Kyle looked at me, his expression a combination of confusion and fright. "I'm sorry, Cla."
"Nuru." Roman corrected Kyle reflexively. "Please, don't call her by any nickname."
"Hey!" I groaned. "I'm right here."
"Nuru?" Roman asked, his voice closer to me again. "You're going to be alright," he promised.
"No," I groaned again. "Leave me alone."
He chuckled.
"I was giving her these," Kyle said flashing the pills in Roman's direction. "But she wouldn't open her mouth and when I opened it by force," he explained defensively in a rush, pausing to take a huge breath. "She spit them right out."
And sure enough there were pills scattered all over the floor.
"I'll handle it from here," Roman said, his voice was still on edge. "You can go back home"
"The hell I am," Kyle protested stubbornly, he even stomped his left foot. "You can't just tell me to leave. I have to make sure she's alright."
"I can and I just did. This is my house after all." Roman opened the front door and shoved a complaining Kyle through it.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed the number off by heart.
I heard a voice ask on the receiver. "Reeves?"
"At my house, three minutes, be here." And then he pressed the end button.
He pulled his first aid kit and his face cloth, he damped it in cold water and then cleaned up my blood soaked face.
"Shouldn't you put gloves on or something." I asked hesitantly. I wanted him to stop touching my so tenderly, to stop provoking this fluffy feeling in my heart. I was dangerously close to suffering from tachycardia.
"Open up." Kyle banged against the door.
Roman rolled his eyes and ignored him.
"You look awful," he told me, grimacing. His face torn.
I watched, engrossed, as he worked on my face. His face was handsome still... in an usual way. Better than being magical. I continued to watch him, to study the precise detail of his square jaw, balanced cheekbones, longer than normal beard. I grimaced.
"You need a trim."
He raised an eyebrow in question. I'd missed those conflicting blue eyes. Eyes that were suddenly boring into mine.
I shrugged, my shoulders stiff and painful. The embarrassment burned under my skin. "Whatever."
"I go for five days and I find you with bruises and a bleeding nose," he said, glaring at me. "I thought I asked you not to annoy anybody in my absence."
"And I didn't," I quickly defended myself, my lips pursed. I clasped my fingers in front of me. "It's not my fault some people choose to be jerks."
He was quiet for a long time. "What happened?"
"So, this guy Josh," I began angrily. "Well Kyle... the friend that you rudely threw out. He's gay. He accidentally bumped into Josh and well..." I shrugged.
He chuckled dryly. "And you wanted to be the hero?"
It was quiet for a while as Roman read the text and then opened the door. I watched him as he tried to hide the surprise on his face—after all, I saw a ring on the woman's finger, she was married, and he should have expected her to start a family soon. She was in her late second trimester. She was wearing a cute blue maternity dress that highlighted her growing bump and her long, almost—blond hair was in a neat ponytail and tumbling down her back in waves.
He hugged her and quickly ushered her inside.
"Oh my God," she gasped.
"Some boys beat her up, Angelique," he explained curtly. "Over a couple of days and she didn't seek any medical help."
Angelique looked at me in astonishment.
"These look bad," she mumbled to Roman after a while.
"Yeah," Roman sighed.
Roman looked on carefully as Angelique took a few medical supplies — a few of which I recognized from my many visits to the hospital over the last few years.
"Does your head hurt?" Angelique asked, probing her newly manicured fingers lightly along my skull.
I winced.
"Sore?" she asked.
"A lot."
Angelique shook her head disaprovingly at the bump on my forehead and asked me to open my eyes when I closed them in embarrassment.
I slowing opened my eyes and the pain shot through my right eye. It felt like a million needles were prickling me.
"Jesus, Roman..." the doctor gasped in surprise. "Come look at this."
"Oh Nuru, what have they done to you?" He asked no one in particular, glaring at the wall. He looked at my eye again and a fresh wave of anger washed over him. He took a breath in an effort to calm down, I figured. And studied my injuries further; the side of my face had cuts that looked as though I'd been clawed by cats, the bump on my forehead was the size of a huge Apple, my nose was slightly crooked as though it was on the verge on breaking. I knew that's what he saw there. The same thing I'd seen in my rear view mirror earlier.
I suddenly felt cold. The murderous look on his face, it promised violence. He stood up and I watched him stride to his bedroom, hands trembling.
I didn't like that. I hated watching him so vulnerable. So angry. And I had caused it. I glared straight ahead at the wall. His absence, a constant, nagging discomfort.
I startled at the sound of a bang. It was the type of noise you'd normally hear when flesh collided with wood. But I knew Roman well enough to know that he was always alert, so, it seemed ridiculous to think he'd somehow tripped and fell against the door. But if his anger was anything to go by, then he'd deliberately punched the door.