A Darkling Alcove

It was a riot of flying bodies, shrieks of laughter and squeaking tennis shoes. It was the sudden halt of motion amidst the chaos that caught his eye.

It was that she hadn't made a sound, the ashen color of her face, the fingers shakily clasping his sleeve that told him something was wrong. It was the impossible angle of her ankle that made him heft her against him and call a halt to the game.

It was the deserted nurse's station that thwarted his efforts, and he set her down on the table with a bump. It was the sluggish rivulet of blood trailing down her knee that had him rummaging through cabinets, cleansing broken skin with antiseptic-soaked cotton, smoothing a band-aid down with his thumb.

It was the tremors of shock that made him smooth her tousled hair back, the hot salty tears that called his fingers to her face. It was the way she looked up with eyes that made her seem so much younger than her sixteen years that fueled his sudden, stabbing urge to kiss the pain away.

It was remarkable how well she calmed down, afterwards.

A/N: You can always count on me for the fluff ... X3 Lord, I'm hopeless.

This piece was written for MF_Sanctuary week 27 The theme was “School Days”