Chilly hands pressed against her forehead then moved to pause against her nose. She struggled to keep her breathing steady. She heard a sigh and then felt his weight on the mattress as he settled beside her. He was quiet, as always when he sat beside her. The moments of silence prolonged and it was just the sound of their breathing in the eerily quiet room. Then, she suddenly heard him say, "Sanya..."
Chilly hands pressed against her forehead then moved to pause against her nose. She struggled to keep her breathing steady. She heard a sigh and then felt his weight on the mattress as he settled beside her. He was quiet, as always when he sat beside her. The moments of silence prolonged and it was just the sound of their breathing in the eerily quiet room. Then, she suddenly heard him say, "Sanya..."
She wanted to keep up this pretence of sleep so that he would leave. But she knew it would not work. It never did. She opened her eyes before his fingers fluttering against her brow became something sterner. The dim light of the room gleamed against his glasses. Thin-rimmed, they were, and silver. His eyes, more grey than green, were looking at her. Not anger or concern could she see in them but rather the contemplative air of study.
"You're finally ready to wake up," he said, alluding to all those times when he knew she was awake but pretended to be asleep.
She looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
A single finger brushed against her chin, turning her face to look at him.
"I...," She croaked.
"I know you're not ready to talk," he said. His steely gaze met hers as he added, "Yet."
"You're finally ready to wake up," he said, alluding to all those times when he knew she was awake but pretended to be asleep.
She looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
A single finger brushed against her chin, turning her face to look at him.
"I...," She croaked.
"I know you're not ready to talk," he said. His steely gaze met hers as he added, "Yet."
She felt a familiar shiver run down her spine. She forced herself to hold his gaze. Not looking away itself was a momentous effort. She found herself counting in her mind.
"One...two...three.."
He held her gaze, unwavering. She tried her best to not look away. He could see it was taking her considerable effort to hold the stare. He felt like giving away, but knew that would not be a good idea. She finally drew her gaze away and her eyes fell on the water that lay spilled on the floor, eyes full of longing. The itching of her parched throat now piercing her within.
He held her gaze, unwavering. She tried her best to not look away. He could see it was taking her considerable effort to hold the stare. He felt like giving away, but knew that would not be a good idea. She finally drew her gaze away and her eyes fell on the water that lay spilled on the floor, eyes full of longing. The itching of her parched throat now piercing her within.
She had counted till thirty-eight when he slipped his hand against the back of her head, raising her lips to the glass of water he held in his other hand. She felt the sloshing liquid against her lips. The hand that supported her head felt like iron, hard and unwavering.
You can bring a horse to water, but you cannot make him...
She drank, letting the coolness slip down her throat. Raised thus, his face was closer to hers. Those tiny specks of brown of his irises could be seen. His face, passive and immobile, could well have been carved out of stone. The sharp nose and the angular face matched the chill in his eyes.
As she took a large gulp, he moved the glass away and abruptly let her fall back, head hitting the pillow with a thump.
She was stubborn – as she had always been, was his first thought when she hesitated a split second before accepting the water. She would go to any lengths to avoid him, including skipping food and drink. Even if that stubbornness led to her death... The visual of another rainy night flashed before his eyes.
He was returning from work after a long and exhausting day. It was close to midnight, the wind and rain conspiring to create a chaotic medley of their own, blocking visibility on the already dark road. The car crawled to avoid hitting any unsuspecting victim out there, until a figure lying in the middle of the road brought his car to a sudden halt.
She had been a battered mess when he had found her weeks ago on the backroad leading to his villa. Bloodied, injured and drenched to the bone in the pouring rain, she was on the verge of death. He had rushed her to the nearest hospital where the doctors had run multiple tests on her. Her plight had brought the most horrifying thoughts to mind but he'd refused to dwell on any till the doctors shared the diagnosis. The doctors had ruled out sexual assault but she had been viciously attacked with heavy objects and left to die in the rain. Two days later, she had also been diagnosed with pneumonia.
She was stubborn – as she had always been, was his first thought when she hesitated a split second before accepting the water. She would go to any lengths to avoid him, including skipping food and drink. Even if that stubbornness led to her death... The visual of another rainy night flashed before his eyes.
He was returning from work after a long and exhausting day. It was close to midnight, the wind and rain conspiring to create a chaotic medley of their own, blocking visibility on the already dark road. The car crawled to avoid hitting any unsuspecting victim out there, until a figure lying in the middle of the road brought his car to a sudden halt.
She had been a battered mess when he had found her weeks ago on the backroad leading to his villa. Bloodied, injured and drenched to the bone in the pouring rain, she was on the verge of death. He had rushed her to the nearest hospital where the doctors had run multiple tests on her. Her plight had brought the most horrifying thoughts to mind but he'd refused to dwell on any till the doctors shared the diagnosis. The doctors had ruled out sexual assault but she had been viciously attacked with heavy objects and left to die in the rain. Two days later, she had also been diagnosed with pneumonia.
He had not intended to get involved. But they needed a contact to get her admitted and he'd made the initial deposit.
First it had been the police. With their questions. They hadn't seemed satisfied with his responses though it seemed. Kept popping by his house at all times of the day for the first couple of days following the "incident"
Then the hospital called. He had a good mind to tell them to shove off by then, only the memory of those reedy hands that had flopped around as he'd carried her into the car stopped him. Her wrists had been bloodied.
Later standing next to her sleeping figure which seemed paler under the harsh neon lights, he'd listened to the blustering medic listing off the many injuries that had beset this patient. Needs looking after, they'd said. Like he knew what that meant. He'd only ever taken care of his dad's dog. And that was some ten years ago.
Originally posted by: twerping
He had not intended to get involved. But they needed a contact to get her admitted and he'd made the initial deposit.
First it had been the police. With their questions. They hadn't seemed satisfied with his responses though it seemed. Kept popping by his house at all times of the day for the first couple of days following the "incident"
Then the hospital called. He had a good mind to tell them to shove off by then, only the memory of those reedy hands that had flopped around as he'd carried her into the car stopped him. Her wrists had been bloodied.
Later standing next to her sleeping figure which seemed paler under the harsh neon lights, he'd listened to the blustering medic listing off the many injuries that had beset this patient. Needs looking after, they'd said. Like he knew what that meant. He'd only ever taken care of his dad's dog. And that was some ten years ago.
And then he would look at her face. Like a shattered mirror, her features were broken but still sharp. Her lips pale but still full. The bridge of her nose had this tiny bump and right across it, a deep red scar. The hollow of her eyes bruised purple.
That must have hurt, poor girl.
No, stop. He had tugged his mind out of the abyss that he was spiraling into. No more plot twists, there is no time for this. Stop.
But there he was hours later, securing her seat belt beside him in the car. He couldn't have just left her at the hospital, right? Why not? He definitely could have. Then why.
Since she had arrived, she has just been here in his guest room. Probably the only guest he has ever had. She hasn't spoken a word yet - other than the one name that she's been mumbling in her sleep.
Zubaid.
He very well knew the answer to his why. He knew she wasn't safe in the hospital given the state he had found her in on the street. Given the way she had been bludgeoned, he knew it was only a matter of time before her attackers would be back to finish the job when they learned she was still alive. No matter their history, he couldn’t leave her in the hospital and just go about his life. So he'd taken her home – after some drama.
She was quite pale, hadn’t even gained consciousness and the doctors would never agree to discharge her in that state. But his instincts had been proven right. He had been visiting the doctor in his cabin to discuss her health status and potential discharge options when chaos was heard from the corridor. He had rushed out, all senses on alert and had literally sprinted to her room at the end of the ward to witness a figure dash out seconds before he reached. He couldn’t chase after him – checking on Sanya was more important and so he'd entered the room to see here resting serenely, without any unusual movements. He had immediately called on the doctor to do a quick check to ensure all was as expected with her before taking in a breath of relief. Few minutes later, he'd learnt that the commotion in the corridor had proven to be a stroke of pure luck for Sanya. A hysterical relative of another patient has collided with a wardboy who was carrying some medical supplies resulting in a crash that had potentially scared Sanya's attacker away. But that meant they would return, without a doubt. And she had to be gone before that. So an hour later, when it was past midnight, in the midst of a brief powercut executed by his trusted aide, Jay, he had snuck into the room, wheeling in a wheelchair, a labcoat over his outfit and mask over his face.
Minutes later they were in the underground parking lot and he was strapping her pale and limp form onto the seat beside him. He had wrapped a scarf around her face and pulled the hood low, not wanting to leave any room for her to be recognized.
And the question he knew he had been asking himself was not why could he not have just left her at the hospital, rather why did he still care about her well-being enough to indulge in an escape like this? Why did she still matter to him even after five long years? Why did seeing her in danger still lodge his heart in his throat despite the bitter parting they had five years ago?
He had brought her home and arranged for her treatment to continue there under the supervision of Rahib, his doctor friend from university days. To ensure the hospital did not create a ruckus over her absence and call in the cops, he had gotten Jay to complete her discharge formalities under the guise of transferring her to another hospital. It had been tricky, but he could trust Jay to handle it.
That had been three weeks ago. She had been here since then, had finally gained consciousness about a week ago but pretended to faint on seeing him and then had continued the charade until today. Rahib had advised him not to stress her and give her the time she needed before she was ready to talk to him. And despite the million questions whizzing in his head, he had waited.
He had diligently ensured her meals were taken to her room timely, and like a sneaky rodent she finished them in his absence and was always sleeping when he visited, or pretended to. When Rahib had assured him that she was fully out of danger, he decided it was time to put an end to her charade. And so, there was no breakfast this morning, nor lunch and just when he thought she would even sleep through dinner, he had heard the shattering of the the jug and here he was.
"I'll have dinner sent in," he said, heading towards the door.
"I'm not hung–,"
His steely gaze as he spun to face her effectively silenced her. Seconds later, he was gone leaving her to wonder how was she going to get out of here.
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