~Chapter 5~
A wareness prickles the edge of my consciousness. I don’t like it. I want to go back to the quiet, floaty feeling. But… I’m already starting to shift uncomfortably.
Memories, nightmares, sounds, and images begin flashing through my mind, and I whimper out. I have no idea what’s real and what’s my imagination, but the pain, the pain in my heart, is so very real.
“It’s okay, Little Flower. I’m here. You’re okay.” The voice is so familiar; comforting. I wonder if it’s a memory or another nightmare.
“Neither.” A delicious chuckle rolls over my body and causes it to tingle. “I’m here with you, silly girl. I’m real. You’re real. And you’re okay.”
Oh shoot, I must have said that out loud.
With much more effort than should be necessary, I flutter my eyes open. The light isn’t obscenely bright, like the last time I was in the hospital, but it still burns. Squeezing them closed for a moment, I take a deep breath. Well, I try to, but pain spiders through my chest and stomach, causing me to groan embarrassingly loud.
“Careful, Flower. You have a long road of recovery ahead of you. But, don’t worry, I’ll be here every step of the way.”
Normal people would be relieved by someone wanting to take care of them. I never claimed to be normal.
My eyes pop open, blinking away the haze as I take in my surroundings and, most importantly, the man in the room with me.
Panic immediately sets my heart racing as I realize I’m definitely not in a hospital room. I’m in a bedroom, a beautiful one. Not stuffy, but not dull, either.
It's pretty perfect, actually.
Looking down, I see I’m in a large, comfortable forking bed. I can feel myself scowl with confusion as I realize that my favorite weighted blanket is sprawled across me. How the heck?
Looking to my left, I gaze through the far window, gawking at a gorgeous, shimmering pool; a single, white diving board sitting on the far edge. And I do mean far. It’s absolutely massive, and I briefly wonder if it's Olympic-sized. But then, I remember that I still need to figure out where I am.
Turning my attention back to the room, I admire how the navy blue chaise lounge is perfectly positioned next to the window. Scanning the wall, I find myself smiling at the light gray painted walls, the top six inches adorned with white decorative swirls.
It’s simple, yet beautiful.
I vaguely remember a small nightstand with a bottle of water to my left and a charcoal gray, tufted armchair sitting on the wall across from me, right next to the door. But I immediately forget all of that the moment I see him standing there. A huge grin spreads across his face, and his maple eyes shine excitedly. Dark stubble covers his face's bottom half, and his shaggy black hair is tousled and unruly. My eyes briefly dip down to see that he’s wearing dark blue jeans, a heather red V-neck shirt, and he’s barefoot. Why is that hot?
A deep chuckle snaps me out of my perusal and immediately causes me to blush deeply. My gaze flies to his, and I scowl indignantly. “Something funny?” I swear I try to sound angry and irritated, but it’s hard to be taken seriously when there’s a whole forking desert in my mouth.
His face falls, and his eyes widen with alarm. He rushes to my side, causing me to flinch away. Thankfully, he slows his movements as he steadily offers me a bottle of water with a straw sticking out; his brows pinched with worry.
My gaze pings between him and the bottle before self-preservation wins out. I legitimately feel like I’m dying from thirst.
Leaning forward, I lock my gaze on his as I slowly shift over to him, grunting and tensing with pain, before taking the straw in my mouth and sucking down half the bottle. I swear to all things holy, it’s like drinking from the fountain of life. It simultaneously quenches a bone-deep need, cools me off, and rouses me back to life.
Releasing the straw, I suck in a few breaths. Sighing heavily, I close my eyes and lean back against the headboard of what I can confidently say is the comfiest bed I’ve ever been on.
I hear the bottle crinkle a little before it’s placed on the nightstand to my right.
Keeping my eyes closed, I pointedly block out the fact that the room is engulfed in silence; which means he’s just sitting, or standing, there. I don’t know.
Taking a few controlled breaths, I begin taking stock of my body and try to piece together what happened, as opposed to why the heck I’m in a bedroom and not a hospital.
There are a few odd sensations: pain in my chest, itching pain down my left side, and two heavy , hard-feeling bandages on one arm and one leg.
Curiosity finally wins out, and I slowly open my eyes. I move my right arm first, knowing it feels uncomfortably heavy, and it takes me an embarrassingly long time to process the fact that there’s a deep blue cast. Twisting and turning it, I slowly move my fingers until a spark of pain shoots down my arm. A tiny yelp escapes me, and I have to blink back the tears and fight off the swirl of nausea threatening to take me under.
“Easy, Flower.” His voice is so close. Then, I feel his soft hands start running down my hair.
Flinching away, I allow anger to override my fear, my pain, my confusion. “What am I doing here, Danny?” I spit, my eyes snapping open to meet his annoyingly sweet gaze.
We stare at each other, his grin widening with each passing second while my scowl deepens. I feel him lean in closer, inhaling deeply before brushing a chaste kiss to the top of my head.
I growl, or try to since my throat is still dry, and move my left arm to help me fling off the blanket. I instantly regret twisting my body and struggle through gritted teeth to lift the monstrosity that is my weighted blanket.
“Beatrice. Stop. Let me help you.” Danny whispers, sounding so sweet and sincere that I choke on a sob.
“No! I don’t need your help!” I absolutely realize that I sound like a petulant child, but at this point, the rational side of my brain is clearly not working.
Danny completely ignores me, choosing to whip the blanket off of my body instead. The visual immediately makes me want to pull the covers right back up.
My left leg is in a black cast that starts from about mid-thigh and wraps all the way down, covering everything but my swollen little toes. My right leg is swollen and completely scratched up, as if I got into a fight with a pack of cats.
My perusal ends when I meet the edge of a black nightgown. Tilting my head further down, I see that it’s actually one of mine. It’s one of my favorite tank dresses that I got from Beautiful Disaster. The front is lilac swirls surrounding the words Beautiful Disaster, and there is a little fairy with lilac hair and white wings reading a book. The back of the dress is racerback style, with the same fairy from the front sitting at the top in the center, happily reading her book. Below is a trail of lilac swirls before the words, “And she lived…Authentically Ever After”.
It feels soft and comforting, and I have to close my eyes to push back the tears threatening to spill over. Sucking in a few deep breaths, I will myself to get it together.
My body trembles as emotions flood through me. Danny’s soft, warm hands snake behind my back, against the headboard, and I feel his body subtly shift onto the bed. He nuzzles into me while gently squeezing me; apparently aware of more bruises than I am at this point.
He starts saying random words; judging by his tone, they’re meant to be comforting. But I can’t process them. My heart is beating in my ears, and someone’s loud sobs echo through the room.
Danny doesn’t move. He appears completely nonplussed about the sound, about the fact that a basic stranger is falling apart in his arms. Danny just brushes his hand down my shoulder, leaning his head against mine, as the sensations, the pain, and the emotions completely overtake me like a tidal wave.
Eventually, the screaming dies down- embarrassingly cueing me in that the sound was coming from me- and my tears begin to dry up. My eyes are heavy, and my body just forking hurts.
Somewhere…somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I hear Danny quietly singing. It takes me a moment to place the lyrics of Daylight by David Kushner. It’s haunting, soothing, and I briefly wonder if there’s a reason he chose it.
Regardless, it becomes the perfect lullaby for me to drift off to.