Page 98 of Akur

“None of these things make sense.” There was a sharp clatter as something hit the floor.

“These will have to do,” she muttered, her voice tight but resolute.

Her scent reached him first—warm. Sweet.Her. It grounded him in a way nothing else could.

He felt her presence next. The heat of her body radiated near his side as she knelt beside him. The sensation was faint, muted by the haze of pain, but it was enough to make him want to shift closer. Only he couldn’t.

His body was useless.

“Alright,” she murmured, and he could feel her hands on him now, hesitant at first but growing surer as she worked. “I can do this.”

There was a sharp, tearing sound—fabric being ripped. Her clothes? His mind was too sluggish to process fully.

Oh, Kon-stahns.

It wouldn’t be the first time she ripped her own garments just to save him. Wouldn’t be the first time she worked hard just to keep him living.

“God, Akur.” She muttered. Her hand shuddered as she worked. “I don’t know how you’re still breathing, but I’m glad. I’m so glad.” Her hands trembled again as she began tending to the largest wound on his chest.

Her hands were gentle. He felt a cool cloth on his skin, wiping away the stickiness of blood and grime. The pressure stung, but it was distant, as though the pain belonged to someone else.

“You’re going to be fine,” she whispered, almost as if trying to convince herself. “You’ve been through worse. Right? You can handle this. You always handle this.”

Time blurred, but her voice was a constant in the haze, alternating between muttered curses and soothing reassurances.

“Where’s the antiseptic? Computer?”

“ANTISEPTIC IS LOCATED IN…”

He drifted.

“Sorry,”she whispered, her voice closer now. He felt her fingers brushing against his skin as she worked. “I know this hurts. I’m trying to be careful.”

Her touch was feather-light, but even so, the pain flared, dragging him closer to the surface of awareness. He tried to speak, to tell her it was alright, that he could take it, but his throat felt like sandpaper, and no sound came out.

“Shhh,” she murmured. “Don’t talk. Just…just stay with me, okay? Stay.”

The cloth returned, wiping at another wound. Then the faint tug of bandages being wrapped.

“You’re never doing this again,” she muttered, her voice breaking slightly. “You hear me? You’re never doing this again. Not for me. Not for anyone. It’s about time you realized your life isn’t expendable. That people don’t want to see you dead. That I don’t—”

She stopped herself; took a shaky breath.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll talk about it later. When you’re better.”

At some point, the weight of his trouse disappeared.

He felt the cool air against his skin, the rough tug of fabric being pulled away.

“Sorry,” she said again, softer this time. “I need to get to all of it. I—” She hesitated, and he could hear the faint hitch in her breath. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your nakedness before. This is just…different.”

Her hands worked quickly, efficiently, though he could feel the slight tremor in her touch. She cleaned his wounds, applied bandages, her touch a strange mix of careful efficiency and…something else. Something softer, something that made his life organ beat a little faster despite the pain.

Then, her fingers brushed against his groin, against the sensitive pouch where his shaft was hidden. A jolt of electricity shot through him. Hot enough, he almost gasped. His hips instinctively tilted upwards.

“Oh,” she breathed, the word a soft exhale against his skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her hand, the warmth spreading through his groin, igniting a flicker of desire amidst the pain. He wanted her touch, craved it with a desperation that surprised him. He wanted…he wanted… He wasn’t sure what he wanted, only that he wanted it withher.

“Sorry,” she repeated, voice barely audible. “Didn’t mean to…Just trying to…make sure everything’s…alright.” Her fingers moved away, continuing their ministrations, but the memory of her touch lingered, a phantom sensation that made his lifeblood sing. He was acutely aware of her now, of her every movement, her every breath, her every whispered word. She was saving his life, patching him up, piece by piece. And he…he wanted her. With a fierceness, a desperation that both terrified and exhilarated him.

---