Page 9 of The Reaper

“Not you,” he snapped tersely. He closed both eyes and took a breath. “But were we thinking of living together, I mean, of taking that step?”

She looked out towards the window, at the dusk unfolding outside, through the bars. His second night behind bars, without her lying next to him. He didn’t like it one bit.

“We haven't talked about it,” she said quietly.

He had a vague sense of bewildered panic. He put his hand over hers, trying to reassure himself vicariously by reassuring her. “I get the sense I was a bit of a dick sometimes, maybe I should have been there for you more. I feel it… something you want to keep from me about how we were before, like I’d disappointed you at some times in the past-”

“No, it’s not like that-” She tried to placate him, but he kept talking.

“Why was I such a fucking cock?”

She shrugged and looked down, her body language negating everything her lips were saying. “You weren’t.”

He was probing hard, but she wasn’t giving him much. He breathed in and out, shifted himself to a more upright position, and reached for her hand. Her small, gentle hand. She let him take it. He was aware his hands were still bruised, scratched. His knuckles split. Tattoos. Her’s looked like doll hands in his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning back to her, in his clear, honest voice.

He held her hand tenderly now, she held his hand back. And that felt good. A part of his chest felt like it was instantly healing. Not a physical part that was bruised, another part that he didn’t know very much about.

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this, it will be okay. You are strong, you will heal, you will remember,” she said, trying to sound confident.

He gave her a little smile and sighed. “Are you okay? I mean, are you holding up okay, this hasn’t been easy for you, either?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. Fuck, hadn’t he ever asked her if she was okay, before his accident? Who the fuck had he been?

“Yes, I’m doing alright. I slept most of yesterday… the shock, I guess. They’ve reduced my hours on the ward. I went for a walk, then slept again. The only thing I had in the fridge to eat was scrambled eggs.” She smiled.

He smiled back at her, that easy, familiar smile. It felt familiar anyway. “Eggs?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I know, I know, not really proper food, I’ll do a food shop on the way home.” She waved her hand to wave away his concern. She was brave, he could see she was scared, that this had been an ordeal for her, but that she was determined to rise to it. He knew the slightly blue-grey tinge under her eyes wasn’t normally there. He knew she wasn’t used to danger, whereas he was. He knew that, he felt that within him.

“I was going to try to make a joke about how you like your eggs in the morning… but I actually have no idea.” He laughed.

She smiled with him. Which felt incredible to him, to share a small joke like that.

“Get yourself plenty of food Hannah, you have got to keep your strength up.” His eyes skimmed up and down her body. His eyes lingered, her body was delicious.

“I will, don’t you be worrying about me now, I can take care of myself,” she said, more breathily than he’d heard so far.

“Hmm,” he grunted and flicked his eyes up and down her body again. He ached to touch her.

“Hannah, I… I’m glad you are here,” he said. He went to raise his arm again, and reached for her. She stood closer to him, and extended her arm out, too. He took her hand.

“It feels good that you are here. It feels right.” He gazed at her, unreadable. “Come here,” he said quietly and patted the space beside him on the bed.

So she perched on the side of the bed next to him. She stroked his forehead, gently, lightly tousling his dark brown hair. It felt so fucking right.

“I hope finding out about the rest of my life is this good, too,” he said, closing his eyes at her touch on his forehead.

He was getting tired. He felt it. The darkness coming up to take him. His vision blurring, his hands flopping down onto the bed. His hearing going, too.

Harder to make out words. But he did hear her response.

“So do I,” she said.

CHAPTER

FIVE

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