Novelas y relatos de Bruised

Marcus replied dryly. Marcus lifted his chin, tilting his head back to expose his throat. There, highly visible on his jawline and running down the side of his neck, was a massive, pronounced bruise. It wasn't quite as dark as Ethan's purp-ish mark, but it was easily twice the size, incredibly angry, and impossible to miss. It looked like someone had practically clawed and bit at his neck in a state of sheer, sleep-deprived desperation.

His bruised ribs felt like jagged, shattered glass piercing directly into his lungs with every agonizing, incredibly shallow breath. "Get up," Kiara commanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous, freezing whisper. He couldn't. His heavily bandaged hands were entirely mangled from the violent impact. His left arm hung at a sickening, unnatural angle from his shoulder. He was actively bleeding from a deep, jagged gash on his forehead, the hot, sticky blood running aggressively into his swollen, bruised eyes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE — The Board Meeting POV: Elena Voss The bruise had violently darkened overnight. By morning, Marcus's fingerprints had become an unmistakable anatomical map—five distinct marks curving around the delicate inside of my upper arm, blooming in deep, aggressive shades of violet and necrotic blue beneath the skin. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror studying the marks with the detached, sterile curiosity of a physician. Contusion. Soft tissue trauma. No fracture, no nerve damage. Clinically speaking, it was a simple, superficial injury. Emotionally, it was a lethal weapon.

A soft whimper escaped me as I attempted to sit up. Pain shot through my body. I froze. Every muscle ached. My arms felt heavy. My legs felt weak. Even breathing hurt. Looking down, I noticed dark bruises scattered across my skin. My stomach dropped. Bruises. A lot of them. Some looked like fingerprints. Others stretched across my arms and legs in ugly patches of purple and blue. None of them should still be there. Werewolves healed quickly. A bruise might last minutes. A broken bone could heal within hours.

I ask her as I have a seat across from her. "Hurting some this afternoon." She adjusts in the bed. I allow myself to look at her. Really look at her. Her face is purple and red, bruised to hell and back. Her lips are split and doubled in size. The left cheek is stitched up over the bone. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

“It hurts” Meme gasps dramatically, “you didn’t”! “No, I didn’t”, I told her. “But what happened was… I dunno! But it felt amazing while it was happening”. I blush at the memory. “Those marks all over you definitely say it was sinister”, she says as I look at her in confusion. I get up and head to the bathroom and gasp at my own reflection. The deep purple welts that adorn my body are so dark I can see them through the thin white tee! Meme is again laughing like a hyena at my state of shock.

"...if you hadn't made fun of me for apologizing to you, I wouldn't have nudged you." "Well I'm sorry, I never heard you apologize to me and I couldn’t miss the chance And you did not 'nudge' me, you Bruce Lee, Hulk, fan girl kicked me. Those three combinations are deadly. Rose, I think my ribs are bruised." He muttered, lifting his shirt to reveal a firm tan, eight pack with a large already forming purple bruise. She gasped and felt a bit guilty and then unthinkingly poked it. He let out a shocked yelp and put his shirt back down.

She sighed and went ahead to remove his clothes. Sometimes, Sydney hated herself for being so soft-hearted. However, since she saw it before her eyes, she could not just leave it be. “Huh?” Just as she unbuttoned Julien’s shirt, she noticed a faint purplish bruise over his right shoulder. Sydney narrowed her eyes and something came into her mind. She flipped Julien onto his front and was stunned. She took a deep breath. Gosh, his entire back was bruised. It looked terrifying. That bruise was caused by a huge impact on the back, which ruptured the subcutaneous vessels and caused a bleed under the skin.

Vianne POV: Looking in the mirror over the bathroom sink, I could see the damage to my face. I cringed at the color that seemed to burst across my cheek and along my jaw. I was lucky Brant hadn't broken it. I rubbed the ointment mom found me in preparation for the day, something my lawyer had recommended to help with the bruising.

The driver was left with scratches and bruises, but luckily, was still alive. Unfortunately for Mia, she was left with a broken arm and a hairline fracture on one of her tiny ribs at just four years of age, besides the many scratches from broken glass and bruises from the impact. Despite the fractures and pain, nothing could compare to the pain she felt when she tried to wake her mom up.