Last night you accidentally cut your hand with some broken glass you dropped.

It wasn't a big cut, just enough for you to put a small bandage on it.

You were in school sitting, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Then Jude came. The quiet boy.

You always had a little thing for him.

He had a cute, rather attractive face.

Kind of shocking that the girls in school weren’t all over him.

The arranged seats for this class had him sitting next to you.

"Hi," you smiled at him, him doing the same.

Your attention turned back to the front of the class.

He sat down, placing his stuff on the table.

His veiny hands.

He slightly hit you on the arm.

"I wanted to ask you,"

he spoke. "Is your hand okay?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What? What do you mean?"

"You know, you cut your hand last night."

Your heart dropped. "How do you know about that?"

His smile turned into a smirk.

"You have a bad habit of keeping your curtains open, love."