So cold.
The first thought she had upon slipping drowsily back into consciousness.
Something soft beneath her, not the dirt floor of the pig-filled barn.
Flashback A flurry of movement. He on the handcart,
bound like a morbid sacrificial lamb. The smell of swine. Two Sardinians
handcuffed on the floor. He was freeing himself
with a weapon she gave him. A sudden sharp pain in
her chest. The ground rising to
meet her. Darkness.
She struggled against a drug-filled system to open her eyes.
Where was he now? Better yet, where was she now?
Blue eyes opened and took in a blurry view of her locale.
Nothing familiar...
except…
Him.A warm, almost comforting hand gripped her right shoulder.
Restrained.She noted, distantly, the gentleness in his touch. Soft hands.
Piercing maroon eyes met hers, tinged with something she could not recall seeing there ever before: sadness.
He meant no harm - not that it mattered.
Safe.Or at least that's how she felt. The irony of that amused her, and she would probably have chuckled had her brain and body been on proper speaking terms.