Page 22 of Filthy Hot Prince

I clutched the cotton fabric of his clothes. A fresh tee shirt and sweatpants, which he had given me to change into so I wouldn’t get cold.

“Thank you, Khalid.” I hoped he couldn’t decipher how small my voice had become. I was in a new space with him. Alone. With my clothes drenched. His own bloody shirt covering me.

Oh God.

I heard him close the door and let out an enormous sigh of relief. I could use some time alone before joining him in the kitchen. I needed to talk to him about what had happened. The way he had reacted towards someone catcalling me as if I hadn’t gone through it before. The sound of bone crunching and hard muscle hitting the skin rang through my ears as I stood under the shower.

He hadn’t thought twice before punching them and starting a fight instead of calling for help or police. As if he didn’t care he got hurt or what people and media will talk about him, the Prince of Azmia, getting into a street fight. All because ofme.

I wished I hadn’t panicked when the stranger had grabbed my hand, I wished I had kicked him or screamed for help or called the police sooner. I wished I hadn’t frozen the second the reek of cheap beer surrounded me. I wished I had done something instead of just standing by and hearing Khalid being hit and fighting.

All because of me.

I wiped away the stupid, useless tears and angrily washed my body, hating how I could still feel the strange touch on my arm as I scrubbed it until I felt clean. My skin burning and sensitive.

It all happened because of me.

Khalid

“Sit down,” Valeria ordered me, her cheeks puffing with anger.

I bit back my grin and sat down on my couch. She didn’t look angry, she looked adorable. So small and tiny in my large clothes. She even had to roll up the sweatpants. I could kiss her and tuck her in my pocket.

“Give me your hand,” she demanded, placing a medical kit on the coffee table.

I raised my eyebrow, but followed her command. Despite the cuteness that seeped out of every pore of her body, I wanted to follow her commands. All her commands.

Her gentle fingers touched my red knuckles as if she knew I had hurt them during the fight. The thought made me bite the inside of my cheek.

“Why are you doing this, Valeria?” I tried to pull my hand back, but her hold was firm. “It’s okay, they are small cuts—”

She glared in my direction, her finger rubbing over the pulse of my wrist as she looked down at my hand as if she couldn’t believe she was holding it.

“Pain needs care, Khalid,” she whispered softly as she continued to clean my cuts and bandage them.

Her words resonated through my body, and I let her clean them up. I didn’t know what to say to her. If pain needed care, then why did I still feel hurt and guilt after what I had done? If pain truly needed care, then why didn’t I feel comfortable in my own skin until…her.

I stared at her red hair, her long lashes, and her nimble fingers.Why now do I feel cared for? Why her? Why with Valeria?

Her hand raised to my face, her fingers hovering in front of my eyes. I forced myself to say, “It’s okay, I am fine, Valeria.”

She pulled back, keeping everything as it was placed in the medical kit.

“Where did you learn to bandage like this?” I asked, rubbing my hands where she had held me with her soft fingers.

“I used to fall a lot when I lost my sight at the beginning. I didn’t want to bother Mabel or Benjamin every time I got a wound so I learnt it on my own.”

I wanted to say something, offer her some type of comfort, but the only way I knew was physical and I knew after what had happened, she wouldn’t want that.

“You shouldn’t have fought with them,” she muttered after a few moments of silence, her eyes burning towards me.

I clenched my jaw. “It was my choice to fight them. They tried to touch you without—”

“I could have handled it without violence, Khalid,” she said, her voice full of emotions. I looked away from her. “Don’t… don’t fight for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am telling you not to.”

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