the secrets we keep

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tw: recount of sexual harassment

"Does it hurt?" I asked, concerned over the low hiss emitted from the back of his throat. I try to be gentle as I clean the wounds on his knuckles. His hands took the most damage from the amount of brutal hits he got on Leo. If his hands appear this bruised up so soon, I'd hate to see what Leo's face looks like right about now.

What can I say, he had it coming.

Beau shakes his head for my sake, but his grimace doesn't falter. I know from experience how badly this must sting, but I know better than to prolong the time it takes to get him all bandaged up. I watered down a bit of hydrogen peroxide to prevent his deep cuts from getting infected. The moment the cotton gauze touched his rough skin, he let out a tiny wince that made me retract the cotton pad from his hand and silently wish that he hadn't had to do this to himself. But even I couldn't stop him from acting upon instinct.

I sit on the rim of the tub with him on the toilet seat cover. Our knees barely brush past one another every time I shift around to grab another gauze. I can feel his eyes piercing into me as I work on his hands. Occasionally, I lift my eyes to meet his and offer a sympathetic smile each time I do. It's the least I could do for everything that's gone down in the past half hour alone. I'm not even at fault for it for once and I still can't help but feel sorry.

Beau's hand comes down on my thigh. I glance up at him in question which brings a quiet elaboration to his lips, "Makes me feel better," he grins subtly. The first grin he's mustered since we walked in here none the wiser to the things that were going on behind the door.

See, sometimes ignorance is bliss. Had we not figured out what was going on, we would have been upstairs in my room right now, undoubtedly fucking around. Yet here we are, cleaning off his wounds from a fight that never should have happened.

I hum out a sigh, "What should we do?" I'm hoping that talking will help distract him from the stinging pain in his hands.

He shrugs his weighted shoulders. "I have no clue, honestly. I'm still processing it, I guess."

Fair enough. I've yet to allow it to sink in fully. Leo and Kat. My sister and our friend's boyfriend. Even if they never put a label on it, there was still this level of exclusivity I thought they mutually agreed to. Or at least that's how Sophie made it out to be. And when Sophie outright tells us she's thinking about committing to someone, one person, she means it. She'd never say something like that if she was only halfway in it. I have no clue how she'll take this. Whether she'll wallow in betrayal or allow this betrayal to let her retaliate. She could go both ways and I can't predict which one'll end worse. The former or the latter. I love my best friend dearly and I fear for her safety in both scenarios. She's never opened herself up to the possibility of being betrayed. She doesn't know how deep that cut runs or how long it'll take for it to heal.

"I never thought Kat would do something like this," I whisper. This is so unlike her. She would never do this to her friend, someone that she cares about who's practically like a sister to us. She could never find it within herself to hurt someone so bad. I know my sister; I know what she's capable of. It almost makes me wonder just how 'good with words' Leo really was. He had to be a fucking poet to convince my sister to go ahead and make this kind of mistake.

Fortunately, Beau isn't as blinded by rage to avoid acknowledging the fact that this simply isn't Kat. "Neither did I. I thought she was still with Grant," he points out.

"I don't know," I mumble. My hand brushes over a particularly worsened spot on his bruised knuckles. Beau curses lowly in pain. "Crap, I'm sorry, Beau."

He regains the breath he lost during the quick sting. "It's okay, you're good, baby."

I make a mental note to snuggle up to him real close tonight. He and I are both in desperate need of that.

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