I want to say something, anything, but it’s Luke who speaks first, turning and asking, "Ash, you okay?"
I glance down at his hand again, there’s a lot of blood and it’s hard to see how much damage he’s done to himself. I force myself to take a deep breath. I step over the hot coffee that’s now all over the floor and walk towards him.
"Ash?" he asks me again. "Are you okay?"
I nod my head before grabbing a towel and pressing it to his hand. I don’t look at his face, but keep my eyes on the towel. The blood isn’t soaking through yet and I hope that it won’t. If it doesn’t, it won’t be that serious. If it’s not that serious then Luke will be alright.
"I’m okay Ash, it’s okay," Luke says softly, closing his hand around the towel. "Just a hazard of the job," he continues, a small smile on his face as he bends down to look at me. "It’s not the first time I’ve done this."
This is as close as I’ve ever been to him and it’s making me uncomfortable. I should step away, but for some stupid reason, I do the complete opposite.
"You need to wash this cut," I say quietly as I pull him towards the sink.
I turn on the water, trying to get the temperature right before I gently move his hand under. I hear him wince as the warm water washes over the cut but he doesn’t pull away. I keep my eyes away from his face but find myself watching our hands, my fingers as they gently wash away the blood. His blood is on my hands now and I can’t help but think how true that could be, how very likely.
I have to move away, the sight of that cut and the blood is more than I can stomach right now. I rinse my hands quickly, I feel sick and I have to get away from him. The blood, I can’t stand it. His closeness, I can’t stand it. I need to get away from him but before I can, it happens. Suddenly I’m forced forward as I throw up into the sink. It happens before I can stop it. I taste the bile in my throat, feel my stomach as it clenches, forcing whatever’s in there out and I don’t even think about the fact Luke’s standing right next to me. It hits me before I can move and before I know what’s happening, I’m being sick in the sink.
"Ash, are you okay?" Luke asks me again, for what feels like the hundredth time.
I can’t answer him. I spit out the remnants of my stomach and hold my mouth under the water. I have to rinse a couple of times to clean it out and it’s only when I finally lift my head, do I realise that Luke is holding my hair back. That he’s been holding my hair back while I throw up. His other hand clutches the towel again, but I can’t see any more blood. I finally lift my eyes to his face and look at him. I must look like shit.
"Ash," he says gently, still holding my hair.
I hold a hand to my mouth, my breath must be awful. "Sorry," I mumble.
His hand releases my hair, lightly brushing it down my back as he does. "It’s alright," he says. "Come and sit down."
I yank some paper towel from the dispenser and wipe my mouth. "I’ll get you another coffee," I say as I move away from him.
"It’s alright Ash, don’t worry about the coffee, just sit down for a second," he says, reaching for my arm.
I quickly back away from him and go out the front to make us more coffee. My heart is pounding, pounding at the sight of all that blood, at the closeness of Luke, at touching his hands, at him touching me. There’s never been blood before; I’ve never had to see that. But he is okay, I tell myself. It doesn’t happen like this, it never has. I shake my head, trying to clear it and walk back out to the kitchen with fresh cups of coffee for both of us. My hands are gripping the hot mugs to stop them from shaking.
When I walk in, I see Luke trying to bandage his hand. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Do you need help?"
He smiles at me then, gesturing with his other hand and saying, "It’s all good Ash, really, just sit down for a second."
I walk toward him, putting our coffees on the counter this time and take the bandage from his hand. "Ash…" he says. He’s standing close to me again, watching as I now bandage up his hand, completely oblivious to the fact that I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I have to force myself to stand here and try to still my hands as they gently wrap the bandage around his. Why am I doing this?
"Do you think you need stitches?" I ask him quietly.
He laughs softly and I feel his breath across my face. It sends a shiver through me and my stomach clenches.
"No, it’s fine. Are you sure you’re alright though?" he asks gently.
I finally answer without looking at him. "Yeah, it’s just the blood, too much blood."
"I can get it," he says quietly, and I hear the concern in his voice.
"I’m almost done," I say quickly. When I finally tie off the bandage, I step back immediately. My hip bangs into the counter and I reach for my coffee, inadvertently picking up his.