No More Nose Kisses Until Your Nose is Healed; 1066 words
follow up to Magnets
When Isak wakes up this morning, his face feels like it got repeatedly rammed into a brick wall and his mouth tastes like crap pill coating. Even isn’t in bed, but he can hear him moving around the flat despite the early hour. Isak pouts tiredly to himself, needing his morning cuddle more than usual today.
Before he does anything else, though, Isak needs to brush his teeth.
He drags himself out of bed after a brief debate over whether or not it would be acceptable to wear their duvet like a cocoon. It’s not, he decides. He aches all over as he pads through to their little bathroom but the thought of his mouth no longer tasting like crappy drugs tides him over.
Isak was in no way prepared for his reflection.
The mirrored cupboard over their sink hides no sins, unfortunately. Isak’s nose is even more swollen than it was last night, the look made even better by the fact that the skin was now a painful and mottled red beneath the steristrips. There’s a little bit of crusted blood around his nostrils, which makes him think that maybe it bled more in his sleep.
Somehow his nose isn’t the worst part to look at.
That award goes to black bruises under his eyes. Isak’s no stranger to dark rings under his eyes, but these are completely different. Bruises so dark blue they look black, smeared under his tired green eyes.
He looks like the bloody Winter Soldier.
Shaking his aching head, Isak goes back to the task at hand. He tries not to look in the mirror while he brushes his teeth as vigorously as he can but it’s easier said than done when your face looks like bloody train wreck. He ends up standing with his back to the sink just to avoid his reflection.
He spits and rinses and puts his toothbrush back in their holder, flinching slightly when he closes the cupboard and is confronted by his gruesome reflection. Isak had never thought he was particularly vain; sure he likes to style his hair and he’ll make an effort with his clothes but he never thought he was vain.
He’s starting to reconsider that now knowing how much this facial injury is bothering him, even though he knows it won’t last more than a couple of weeks.
He leans closer to the mirror to inspect the damage, squinting critically. He touches his nose gingerly and pain immediately rockets through him.
“Fuck!” He shouts in surprise, jerking back from the mirror as if it scolded him. That’s how Even finds him: stood in the middle of their bathroom cupping his nose with a look of shock on his face.