My glasses were on the coffee table, so I walked from my room to get them as a light hammering sounded on the door. It was a strange sound; an angry knock, but done by someone with no energy to do it with any force.
Curious, I hurried to the door, opening it wide, not sure what to expect on the other side, but Finn bent over, breathing like he’d run a marathon, was not it.
He stumbled into the room, and no matter how much I disliked him, I couldn’t ignore how pale he was or how swollen his lips and eyes looked.
He reached for me, but before I could ask him what was wrong, he collapsed.
“Fuck.” I shut the door and dropped to my knees, looking on in horror as he pointed, but to where I couldn’t work out. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Hee.” His voice was raspy, as if he was struggling for air.
“Jas,” I screamed. “Jas, get out here.”
Rolling Finn on his side, I pulled the tie on his corset, wondering if he just couldn’t breathe because of that. When it was loose enough, I tugged it from his body, gently rolling him back and then unfastening his shirt and pulling it open, desperately trying to work out what was wrong.
“Hee,” he wheezed again.
“Jasper, for fuck’s sake. Get out here.”
I tugged his shirt open, my eyes landing on the scars that covered his side, but they looked old, so I guessed they weren’t the source of his problems.
“Jasper Fischer,” I yelled at the top of my voice, letting out a rush of air when he opened his door.
“Trav, I don’t want to fi—Finn?”
“What happened? What did you do?”
He appeared next to me, and I tried to ignore how much it hurt that he thought I’d hurt him.
“Hee,” Finn croaked out again before his eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp.
“Bee,” Jasper cried. “Shit, he’s allergic. Where’s his bag?” He looked around the room frantically, spotting it in the corner by the door. He ran over, rummaging through it before he pulled out what I presumed was an EpiPen.
“How do you use these?” he asked me, wide eyed.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? Don’t you just stab it somewhere?” I turned my attention to Finn. “Don’t you dare die on me, Twinkle.” He wasn’t moving so I reached down and tapped his cheek, trying to revive him.
“Don’t slap him,” Jasper muttered. My eyes flicked up to his.
“I’m not slapping him. I’m checking to see if he’s unconscious. I don’t think him being unconscious is good, Jas.” I sounded panicked. “Hurry up.
“I am. I’m trying to read the instructions. Okay, jab pen firmly into upper thigh at a right angle. Hold for three seconds.” He looked at me. “Do we do it through his clothes?”
“Should we call an ambulance?” I asked as I repositioned myself behind Finn, pulling him so he was in between my thighs, his back to my chest.
“No, he doesn’t have time. Deadly allergy he told me. Shit, what if he dies? Okay, trousers off,” he said decisively.
Without hesitating, I unbuckled Finn’s trousers, bending him a little forcefully as I shoved down his trousers to his knees, my eyes landing on the tight pink briefs he was wearing, reminding myself this was not the time to stare at another man’s cock.
“There,” I said, turning my attention to Jasper, who was on his knees, EpiPen held out to the side before plunging it against Finn’s thigh.
He shuffled closer while we waited for the medicine to work.
“Come on, little one. No one is being killed by a bee while they’re angry with me. I need you to wake up and shout at me some more.”
I expected some dramatic gasp of air or his eyes popping open, but neither of those things happened, and Jasper and I sat, staring at a half undressed, unconscious man.
“Come on, Twinkle. Look, if you live, I promise to be nicer.” My heart hammered as I offered up a prayer that he’d be okay.