Author's Note: My sincerest and humblest apologies for this chapter taking so long. I've been fighting with my nemesis - back pain. Arthritis, to be more specific. And if that isn't enough, I have bursitis in my hip as well. So, without revealing all of my medical issues, suffice to say I have been in a lot of discomfort. My health played a huge part in the writing and completion of this chapter. I started over multiple times and have done more rewrites than I care to remember. A lot of painkillers, tears, and more painkillers went into the writing of this. I hope you enjoy the finished product. Take care! Love you all!
Friday Afternoon: Xander
The rest of Shai's morning bears a striking resemblance to her early morning activities. She ices her back for twenty minutes at the top of the hour then spends the remaining forty minutes sitting, reading, and occasionally peeking at her new easel. However, the raindrops pattering against the glass has a lulling effect and she finds herself either rereading the same sentences without absorbing the story or she's nodding off. She eventually jerks awake when her chin snaps forward with enough force to strain her neck. Each hour plays like the last: ice, read, doze. She is thankful when the noon hour rolls around and she can take a break to eat lunch. Feeling adventurous, she pulls out the cutting board, a knife, and a large bowl with lid. She washes and chops up two heads of romaine lettuce. She picks a couple of gala apples and Bartlett pears from the fruit bowl, dices them, and tosses them into the bowl with the romaine. She adds chopped pecans, dried cranberries, and feta cheese to complete the mix. While she works, she pauses every so often to listen for the slightest indication that the general is awake and moving about his room. She is quite sure making anything above and beyond a sandwich for lunch is sure to be frowned upon by her warden. She opens the fridge and removes a container of homemade creamy poppy seed dressing. She drizzles it generously over the salad, seals the bowl, and turns it over and over, making sure the ingredients are coated thoroughly. She serves herself a modest bowl and leaves the rest in the fridge for the general. She walks over to the chair, grabs her cushion, book, and bottle of water and relocates to the island counter.
It takes her to almost to two o'clock to finish the salad, but it is well worth it. She rinses the dishes and arranges them in the dishwasher. She makes sure the notebook and pen are nearby and sits back down at the island. She taps her phone's LCD: 1:50pm. She looks towards the general's bedroom door. When Sybelline mentioned him translating for Shai, she couldn't imagine asking him, but now that her appointment is ten minutes away and her nerves hum excitedly, she wishes she had been brave and sought his help. It's a moot point now. He doesn't want to be disturbed. She'll just have to make do with writing down any questions that may arise and hope the therapist is patient with her. She quickly writes a greeting on a blank page and a brief explanation for the notebook. She finishes the downward stroke on the last word at the same moment the chimes ring throughout the condo. She rushes to open the door, praying the bell did not wake the general. Why can't visitors ever knock? The door swings open and Shai's heart begins to throb from more than her anxiety over being able to express herself.
Before her is an attractive man holding a rolled yoga mat under his arm. Shai would guesstimate his age to be in his mid to late twenties. His hair is jet black, styled in medium-length layers that taper to longer lengths at the back of his neck. A few loose fringe fall over his brow and eyes to brush against his cheek and the tip of his nose. He's approximately 180cm tall, clean shaven, has sky blue eyes, a slender nose, and a beaming smile revealing a perfect set of teeth. He's wearing black joggers, a long sleeve, tan crew neck shirt, and trainers. She makes a mental note to give Dr. Moreau a good scolding up one side and down the other for not warning her the PT is distractingly good-looking.
"You must be Shai," he says, kindly offering his hand, "I'm Xander Redding. I'm a physical therapist. Dr. Carlyn sent me to teach you some pelvic floor relaxation exercises." Shai returns his smile and accepts his handshake. Taking a step back, she waves him inside and closes the door. As he walks by, she detects the pleasant scent of spices and wood oils commonly used in cologne or aftershave. Handsome and smells good. Not surprisingly, Xander is giving a cursory glance over the kitchen and living room, no doubt looking for a particular someone and not to admire the minimalist aesthetic.
"Is the general home?" Shai answers yes with a nod, writes a short reply under her introductory note, and hands it to him. He reads it silently to himself and gives the book back to her.
"It's a good thing we won't be making much noise, then. Is there a space where I can set up?" She smiles and leads him over to the window side of the living room.
"This is perfect." He unfurls the yoga mat lengthwise on the area of carpet between the couch and the windows. As Shai watches him, she absentmindedly sits on the club chair. The moment she puts pressure on her unprotected tailbone, the pain hits in all directions, and she shoots up onto her feet, dropping the notebook and pen on the floor, her hands flying to her lower back. She purses her lips together, forcing her breath in and out her nose in loud rushes as she tolerates the pain. Xander is quickly at her side, firing questions at her.
"Are you alright?! Do you need anything? Should I get the general?" Ignoring the first two, Shai zeroes in on his last question, shaking her head abruptly side to side, but it is a futile gesture. She comes to the conclusion that if she didn't have bad luck, she would have no luck at all. Of course, she knows this is not true, but it does seem to apply to today, starting with waking when the moon still lit up the night and continuing on now into the grey dreariness of the afternoon. No sooner has Xander asked if he should wake the general than the bedroom door opens and Sephiroth appears in the doorway. His attention is instantly drawn to the pair, his astuteness assessing the situation in seconds.
"What's happened?"
I absentmindedly sat down without my cushion. Sephiroth walks to stand next to Shai.
"Where is it?" His voice is stern. She points to the barstool.
"I'll get it," says Xander, eager to remove himself from the tension forming between them, like charged particles within a storm cloud. He returns with the inflatable pillow and hands it to her. She places it in the center of the cushioned seat, and lowers herself cautiously. Xander bends, picks up the notebook and pen, and gives it to her, mindful that his every move is being watched by an alpha wary of a rival encroaching on his territory.
"I take it you're the physical therapist?" Standing, he approaches Sephiroth with his hand held out in greeting.
"Yes, sir. My name is Xander Redding. I'll be working with Shai today." The general looks at the PT's hand as if he would enjoy nothing more than severing it from its wrist, but in the end, civility wins the day. He shakes his hand with a grip Xander can interpret in a few ways and none of them are very encouraging.
"There is an ice pack in the freezer," he says, ending the handshake, "Get it and bring it here." Shai looks up at Sephiroth, her annoyance with his inhospitable attitude as clear as the nights are long. His eyes, however, are focused sharply on her physical therapist.
"Yes, general." Xander half walks, half jogs into the kitchen, massaging his crushed knuckles along the way. Shai tugs on the general's shirt to get his attention.
I do not have time to ice right now. I will be busy learning my exercises.
"You will be doing nothing of the sort."
What do you mean?!
"You are in no condition to be performing even the simplest of therapies."
But-
"The general is correct, Shai," says Xander, returning with the ice pack, "You will be observing today. I will be doing all the practical work." He goes to hand the pack to her, but Sephiroth intercepts it before Shai's fingers can even feel the cold vapour. He walks to the back of the chair and, without a word spoken between the two, she leans forward and raises her sweater while he lowers the pack into position. It is obvious to Xander that this is not the first time the general has given support when she has needed it, though his bedside manner can use some work. Less imperious military leader, more compassionate caregiver. The sound of pen to paper draws his attention to Shai, her handwriting, and the words written in the notebook; I don't understand.
"Normally, this appointment would have been scheduled three days from now," he explains, "Physical therapy is recommended at least 72 hours after injury, but I'm leaving tomorrow for a seven day educational conference and expo given by the Academy of Spinal Cord Injury Professionals. Dr. Carlyn wanted me to see you before I left."
Oh, OK. I understand. Xander looks quizzically at Shai, then to Sephiroth.
"She understands."
"Oh! Good! Then why don't we get started?" Xander rearranges the yoga mat to accommodate Shai's perspective and kneels before her. He looks up at Sephiroth, who remains standing behind the chair.
"Will you be joining us, general?"
"No. I will leave you both to your appointment." He turns in the direction of the kitchen, but pauses half way.
"Shai, don't forget to set your timer. Icing longer than twenty minutes will cause reactive vasodilation and/or damage to the affected tissues. I'm sure Mr. Redding was about to tell you to do the same before beginning his instruction." Shai can't see the smirk, but she knows it's there. What has gotten into him? Irritated, she opens the timer app, taps two and zero under "minutes" and presses start. She holds the phone in the air, the LCD facing Sephiroth, to show him the timer display counting down as proof that she carried out his command. He nods and walks into the kitchen. Shai sets the phone on the end table, and writes in the notebook; sorry for the delay. She holds it up for Xander to read.
"Don't worry. You're my last appointment for the day. We can take as much time as we need." She smiles softly in reply. A feeling of responsibility for the unpleasant and awkward situation Xander finds himself in weighs heavy on her. A chorus of what ifs, should haves, and if onlys cry out in cacophonic unison, inevitably drawing her attention to the source of her retrospection as she tips her ear towards the kitchen. She hears the whoosh of the refrigerator door opening and closing, and the rattle of cutlery as the silverware drawer is pulled open then banged shut. Out of the corner of her eye, Shai watches Sephiroth walk into the living room holding the bowl containing the autumn salad, a fork, and a bottle of water. He arranges his lunch on the coffee table, sits on the edge of the couch, and begins to eat the salad while reading the sonnets, the book held aloft in his right hand. She smiles apologetically as she returns her attention to Xander, who waits patiently on the yoga mat.
"Now, the first exercise I'm going to teach, you can do along with me. It's called diaphragmatic breathing. You're going to relax your shoulders, and place one hand on your chest and the other on your belly, just below your rib cage. That's right. Now, you're going to breathe through your nose for about two seconds, feeling the air move through your nostrils into your abdomen, causing your stomach to expand. With this type of breathing, you want to make sure your stomach is moving outward while your chest remains relatively still. Lastly, you're going to purse your lips together as if you're about to drink from a straw, press gently on your stomach, and exhale slowly for two seconds. This may sound like a lot to remember, but once you've repeated the technique several times, it'll become second nature. I'll do it with you. Ready?" Shai does as instructed, concentrating on each step, her eyes focused on Xander's as he mirrors the exercise with her.
"Excellent! Try it again on your own. I want you to practice this five to ten minutes a day, either sitting comfortably on your own or while you are doing the exercises I'm about to teach you. Ok? Now, let's move on to the first stretch. It's called the knee to chest stretch." Xander lies down on the mat.
"It's very simple. The first step is to lie on your back with your legs straight and relaxed. Next, bend one knee to your chest, breathing deep into your belly like I just taught you. Hold for thirty seconds then release. Repeat the stretch with your other leg. For your first week, I want you to start out doing three reps for each leg. Every additional week you will add two more until you reach ten reps per leg. This timeline will apply for some of the other exercises as well. Now, watch how I perform this stretch." Shai decides it may be best for her to take notes for each exercise, otherwise she will not remember all of them. She watches Xander as he carries out the motion of raising his knee, holding it against his chest by clasping his hands high on his shin, and extending his leg on completion of the count. She jots down some key words, adds a few stick figure illustrations, and waits for new instructions.
"OK. Ready for the next one?" Xander asks, smiling. Nodding yes, Shai smiles back.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sephiroth's concentration is superior to normal men and women due to extensive and intensive training from infancy to adolescence, using games and puzzles designed to hone his mental acuity. It is a trait that has never failed him in the past until recent weeks. Until Shai walked through his door. He cannot deny he's had momentary lapses since she has been in his employ, but nothing like the last forty eight hours: begging her to care for him while lying barely conscious on his bathroom floor; gently caressing her lips while she lay sleeping beside him; memorizing the message in her note to help him endure the pain in Hojo's lab. Along with the protection of his emotional barriers, is armour serving as his first line of defense, symbolically shielding his heart and soul. It has been tested against life's adversities and remained unscathed. Yet now its silver surface has been battered by a young woman armed only with her resolve and words written with her hands. Despite his protestations and his inconsistent behaviour, cracks have formed, and the force that made them is advancing on his emotional fortifications, its walls already under siege.
Today, however, Sephiroth's lack of concentration is obvious; there is a man in his home with whom he is unacquainted. A man taking up his space and breathing his air. A man filling the room with the sound of his voice, disrupting Sephiroth's peace and quiet and ruining his view with his mediocre appearance and flashy smile. But worst of all, he is committing the sin of sins by drawing Shai's attention away from him. He is not unfamiliar with the emotion that now has his eyes bright. It is jealousy, plain and simple. Why he is feeling it, though, he does not know. The man is here to help Shai learn what she needs for her to reach a full recovery. Sephiroth should be glad that he is here. But her smiles and attentive manner towards the other man has the fire in him threatening to burn through his flesh. Sephiroth fights for control by reminding himself that she does not belong to him. He has not laid claim to her heart by confessing his feelings to her. How can he when he still has not embraced these new and powerful emotions wholeheartedly himself?
He stabs at the greens and fruit in the salad like a hunter spearing prey. He takes a bite of his lunch and reads the couplet at the end of Sonnet 29:
...For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Beautiful words of love bringing hope and optimism to the speaker's wretched state. Sephiroth would never admit it in conversation or in confidence, but he can identify with the man in Sonnet 29. He is the lonely outcast and Sybelline is his lark singing hymns to the heavens. The moment she walked into his life she has provided him with the love and hope he so desperately craved. His treasured thoughts of Moreau's love shift his gaze to the young woman sitting scant meters from him. Has Shai not also risen from the sullen earth to sing on his behalf at heaven's gate? Hasn't she improved the condition of this poor outcast? He returns his attention to Shakespeare and the last bits of salad. Inevitably, the balance of truth and deception that he has so painstakingly maintained from young adulthood has dipped dramatically in truth's favour.
He eats the final forkful of food, enjoying the last of Shai's culinary labours, and leaves the fork inside the empty bowl. He leans back, well fed and satiated. He switches the book from his right hand to his left to give his right arm a rest. It's merely a coincidence that holding the book in his left hand will incline his head in that direction, therefore giving him an unobscured view of Shai in his peripheral vision. With the physical therapist lying on the yoga mat, Sephiroth can only hear him and his incessant talking. If he is demonstrating each exercise, why must he explain them at such great length? How many times must he remind her to breathe? Is he in love with the sound of his own voice? Or is he trying to ingratiate himself with Shai so she will find silence unbearable without his mellow tone? If Sephiroth listens to him for much longer, he will develop indigestion. He returns to the open pages and tries to concentrate on the written word while tuning out Xander's repetitious instruction and cloying small talk.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Shai checks the timer on her phone; less than five minutes to go until she is finished icing for another hour. Almost twenty minutes have passed and Xander has completed only three exercises: diaphragmatic breathing, the knee to chest stretch, and the foot and knee up stretch. She's been informed there are eight in total. She assumed with her participation consigned to strictly observing, the appointment would be progressing at a quicker pace. Xander is very thorough, describing the function of each muscle while giving step-by-step instructions before demonstrating each exercise, but it's his reiteration of the same information during and after the demonstration that is prolonging the duration of the appointment. With all the repetition, she has considered abandoning her note taking more than once. His chitchat in between exercises slows their progression as well. Shai will admit he is charming and she's sure that smile causes many women to go weak in the knees. She, herself, is guilty of falling under its spell, but now she's feeling self-conscious, butterfly wings beating nervously about her insides. Shai is not accustomed to being the target of flirting. She's afraid Xander has misinterpreted her smiling with attraction, when in reality, she is just being friendly. But are her nerves buzzing for another reason?
So preoccupied with her thoughts, Shai jumps when the timer's electronic bells ring, nearly upsetting the notebook from her lap. She picks up her phone and taps dismiss, returning it to its place on the end table. She is in the middle of leaning forward when Xander springs from the floor and walks to the back of the chair.
"Here. Let me get that for you." Shai motions to him that she can handle removing the ice pack on her own, but he either does not understand her or is choosing to ignore her. She leans back, hoping he'll take the hint, but he is undeterred.
"Just lean forward." She scribbles under her notes; I can do it. She lifts the book and points to her almost illegible writing.
"But I'm already here." She feels frustration settling in at not being taken seriously. Is Xander misconstruing her attempts at polite refusal with her being coquettish? When did her physical therapy appointment turn into a centuries old seduction novel? She holds up her hand and shakes her head no, this time without gracing him with a smile.
"Really, Shai, I don't mind. I'll even put it away for you." She sighs deeply, her frustration peaking. Shai doesn't know why this is becoming an issue for her, but it is. She loses her composure and signs.
Please! I will do it! I need to stand and move around anyway.
"I don't understand."
"It's quite simple, Mr. Redding. She doesn't want your help. How many times and in how many ways must she tell you?" Xander takes a broad step away from the chair at the sound of the general's voice. The moment he is out of range, Shai reaches round and pulls the pack out from behind her. Bracing with one hand, she rises slowly from the chair. Xander steps out of her way as she takes slow, even steps towards the kitchen. Their eyes meet and awkward smiles are exchanged, his expression speaking a silent apology. As Shai passes behind the fireplace couch, Sephiroth closes his book and rises, directing his attention at Xander long enough to intimidate him into returning to the yoga mat. Satisfied with himself, he gathers his dishes and walks into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and placing the bowl and cutlery inside. Shai has tucked the ice pack in the freezer door shelf and is about to return to the chair when Sephiroth blocks her way. Knowing he can be seen by the physical therapist, he stands close to her, covering her body in his shadow. His proximity forces her head to tilt at a sharp angle, her curls falling away to expose her face and throat. He leans in, his lips a hairsbreadth from her right ear, discreetly inhaling the pleasurable, layered fragrances of citrus, jasmine, vanilla, and rose oils that scent her hair and skin, exciting his senses and accelerating his pulse.
"His method of instruction is tedious and redundant and his flirtations are unprofessional," he says quietly, his breath tickling her skin, "If you are uncomfortable with his prolonged presence, I will gladly intervene." He pulls back far enough to look in Shai's eyes, his hearing picking up her esophagus contracting as she swallows nervously. Holding his gaze, she takes half a step backwards to free space between them to allow her to reply.
Thank you for the offer, general, but I will speak to Xander should the need arise. Her outside appearance presents a natural and composed individual, but Sephiroth can hear and see otherwise. Her heart reaches his ears, the beat matching the swift rhythm of his own. Her eyes reveal a woman bombarded from all sides by a mixture of contrary emotions. Her breathing trembles faintly as she fights to keep it under control. Has he always had this effect on her? Or is this something new? He leans forward as if he intends to kiss her cheek, but hovers mere millimeters from her skin.
"As you wish, Shai." Sephiroth stands to his full height, turns on his heel, his hair swirling about him like silver silk, and walks back into the living area. He notices Xander looking in the direction of the kitchen and purposefully moves into the other man's line of sight. When the two men's eyes meet, Xander instinctively takes a step back. Sephiroth's piercing stare warns him to cease any improper thoughts of Shai and to focus on why he is here in the first place. The physical therapist is unable to keep eye contact and looks away at the pouring rain. The general smirks, pleased his message was received, and sits back down on the couch. He resumes reading his book, holding it high in his left hand. Standing alone in the kitchen, Shai can take a deep breath. She presses her cool fingers to her face hoping they will temper the rose buds heating her cheeks. She doesn't know what has come over her. Yes, the general has put her in heart-racing situations before. Consider the past two days: she has bore the solid weight of his body, felt the smoothness of his skin, and the softness of his hair. But today's interactions with him feel different.
For instance, this morning, as he stood staring intently at her while informing her he was going to lie down, Shai became distracted by the sound of his voice, the shape of his lips, and his eyes smoldering with glowing green embers. When he silently paused before retiring to his bedroom, she waited with bated breath for him to say more and was disappointed when he did not. Instead, she grabbed the water bottle, returned to the chair, and tried her best to overlook her behaviour by focusing on her novel. And now, just a few hours later from the first occurrence, he intimately communicates a simple question, leaving Shai struggling for control of her body's response. However, her flushed skin and shaky breath were sure to have been noticed. She might have well let the levee break and released the flood waters.
Shai walks over to the chair and sits down. She picks up the notebook, writes down an apology for the interruption, then shows it to Xander.
"No need to apologize, Shai. I'm sorry for not abiding by your wishes. It was discourteous of me." She smiles in response, hoping her amicable expression will nudge them past the last few awkward minutes and back to her PT appointment, and, indeed, it does. Xander picks up where he left off, but his teaching method takes a drastic 180° turn. His instruction is concise and he moves steadily from one exercise to the next. He has ceased all casual conversation and makes only limited eye contact. She wouldn't characterize his change in demeanor as cold, but it has definitely become all business. She glances towards the general, focused on his reading. The slight smile on his face makes her wonder whether he is the reason for Xander's sudden verbal brevity. If Shai knew the true source of the general's smile, however, she would be stunned into another heart-fluttering, breath-catching spell intense enough to redden her cheeks for the rest of the day and on into the evening.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sephiroth cannot contain the pleasure and excitement he feels from his interaction with Shai in the kitchen. His bold actions, no longer impeded by his metaphorical armour, stemmed from a small crack discovered at the base of his defenses. Once identified, it swiftly cut a destructive path across the seamless rock, splitting off into jagged tendrils with lightning speed and spread outwards like branches on a tree. How is it that defenses strong and solid only hours ago are crumbling to rubble so quickly? When did one weak stone compromise the many? The answer is simple. Neglect. Deluding himself into believing the walls would remain fast, so confident he was in their infallibility, But today, another man walked into his home, his domain, and took an interest in Shai. Another man made her smile and her cheeks blush. Another man lured her attention away from him. Now, with the shattering of stone and the rumble of falling rock, his lies and denial have rend the unbreachable gates from their hinges, their impact resounding like thunder in his head. And all because of another man.
He thinks back to what Sybelline told him the night before; "Some people spend a day with one another and know by nightfall that they have met their soul mate." He was quick to respond in the negative, but with time to consider her words, he wonders if the idea is so outrageous. After all, that particular storyline is found throughout literature no matter the age in which it was written. But must it be a day? Can't it be a week? A night? What about an event? A shared meal. A leisurely walk. Sleeping side by side. What if for the first time in his life he allows himself to reach out and grasp what he has long kept behind high walls? Sentiment. An array of tender emotions. Manifestations of higher, more refined feelings. What if he did not hold back as he did throughout this morning when those emotions swept him away with their intensity and need? What if he did not hide behind reports and books or view her from a distance? What if he learned to embrace these newfound emotions and erased the long-standing belief that he is undeserving of them or that they pose a weakness to his character? What if...
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Where the first three stretches took twenty minutes, the last five take as much, if not less, time. Xander stands after completing the last demonstration and asks Shai if she has any questions. She shakes her head no, showing him the pages of detailed notes she has taken for future reference. He commends her on being an excellent student and informs her the yoga mat is for her to use for the extent of her physical therapy. Should she decide to purchase one of her own, she may return the mat to the clinic. He rolls it into a tube and props it between the second couch and an end table. Shai rises and walks Xander to the doors.
"It was nice to meet you, general." he says as they walk past Sephiroth, seemingly absorbed in his reading. The general snaps the book closed, sets it on the coffee table, and stands, turning to face Xander and Shai.
"Likewise." Though his reply is convivial, his bearing suggests that if Xander knows what's good for him, he'll keep his distance, but regardless of what the mighty general wants, he has a job to do and that includes occasional check-ins. He turns to Shai.
"I'll stop in after my conference to see how you're progressing." In tune with the atmosphere, Shai tames her reply by smiling demurely and giving a slight nod. She leads Xander to the entrance, opens the door, and shakes his hand in farewell.
"Goodbye, Shai," he says, exiting into the foyer. She closes the door once Xander has entered the elevator. She turns around and releases a deep sigh, her eyes meeting Sephiroth's.
"Given your reaction, am I correct in thinking that you are relieved your appointment has come to an end?" She has to admit, she is thankful to be free from her anxiety over Xander's flirtatious overtures and the tension hanging heavy between the two men.
Yes, you are. He gives her one of his wicked smiles causing Shai to lower her eyes and blush profusely. They return to their respective corners, pick up their books, and carry on as if the last hour never happened.