I look down into the amethyst-lined coffin and begin to weep freely. I have done this to him. I have laid a good strong man low. He seems to see me for a moment as his golden eyes stare up into mine, then, the recognition leaves and tears begin to flood down his cheeks, a moan of pain leaving his mouth. But, it isn't a moan of physical pain but emotion pain.
I stroke his sunken cheek and lean over him, watching as my tears strike his face. He seems to have lost all knowledge of his surroundings. I know not how long he has been laying here but there is little doubt that it has been under two days. Indeed, he is quite a mess. The sickening smell drew me to his side and I nearly believed him dead until his eyes opened and he gazed up at me.
I do not believe he truly knew who I was. his recognition was just of my presence but not of who I was.
I am a small woman, no taller than five feet four inches but I know I have no help in this underground lair. I must take care of him. I have found him before he died and now that Raoul has released me, I know I mustn't leave my angel ever again.
With shaking hands, I slip my arms under his body and drag his incoherent form out of the coffin, a place morbid enough for him but far too morbid for me. I would much prefer him in a proper bed. I struggle a great deal but I finally manage to carry him into the lavatory and begin to bath him. The smell gets to me very quickly but I block it out. I mustn't quit.
I don't quit. Sometime later, despite the immense embarrassment I felt from seeing a man completely nude for the first time in my life, I managed to redress him and carry him into my old bedroom, laying him down on the bed and covering him with blankets. I have made it mostly easy for myself to care for him and once he is situated, I made myself at home in his little house.