He knew the human was wary of him, and Raizel could understand why. After all, allowing someone to stay in your home after they had broken in was hardly a normal response. However, Raizel was thankful that Frankenstein did not care for the 'normality' of the human ways. Without inquiring too much, Frankenstein had set to work in doing what he could to clean the wound in his side.
Raizel let him, even though his body was already working on healing itself. However, he was not healing as fast as he should. But that was to be expected, considering the fight he had just crawled back from.
His heart ached yet again. The pain in his soul was worse than the pain in his side. Biting the inside of his cheek, he turned his head away to face the wall of the humble room.
As a distraction, he focused on mending his torn shirt. The multiple tears in his white dress shirt were mended, the mud and blood were removed, and his clothing was dried. Frankenstein had removed his shoes, and he did not see any reason to create new ones if he was lying in a bed.
Now that he was somewhat presentable, Raizel sunk into the warm sheets of the bed. Moving too much hurt, but at least he was dry and safe from the raging storm outside. Curiously enough, his pursuers had yet to find him, though that did not surprise him. It would be difficult to find anyone in this storm.
He shivered at the sound of thunder cracking overhead, and he closed his eyes in an effort to rest. The rain pelted against the house and filled the silence. Usually, he found a light rainstorm to be calming. However, it was raging storms like this that filled him with unease.
He sensed the familiar, chaotic energy that belonged to Frankenstein, and he was made aware of the human's presence before he even heard the door open. There was a moment of silence, yet he did not bother to move or open his eyes. He was too tired to do much of anything anyway.
"You're not wearing my shirt, are you?"
The question held a tone of disbelief and confusion, and it startled Raizel so much that he opened his eyes. He looked at Frankenstein as a rush of embarrassment filled him. Did Frankenstein think he would disrespect his host so much that he would steal from him? Had he really portrayed such poor characteristics that he would be suspected of thievery?
Mortification filled him at the thought of leaving the impression of a criminal, and he shook his head in denial.
But Frankenstein did not seem to be accusing him. Instead, he looked as if he was trying to fit in an elusive piece to a puzzle. A sigh escaped him, and a small smile flickered on his lips. "You changed your shirt, didn't you?" he asked.
Raizel nodded.
The nonverbal answer seemed to satisfy Frankenstein, for he set to work setting down the new steaming bowl of water on the small stool before carefully handling an assortment of herbs. He paused for a moment before unflinchingly raising his gaze to Raizel. "You will need to unbutton your shirt so I can look at the wound."
Ah, of course. He was hindering Frankenstein from his work. Such an oversight on his part left him flustered. With his left shoulder aching too much to move, he merely lifted his fingers, and a red aura surrounded his shirt to unbutton.
Raizel was not a queasy person when it came to the sight of blood. However, when the cold air touched his wounds, he clenched his teeth and avoided looking at the injury. No, he was not healing as fast as he should, but he resisted the urge to flinch as Frankenstein continued to clean at the wound.
He was curious how the art of healing was performed on humans. Nobles had no need for such healers. But with humans being as fragile as they were, he understood that a healer must be highly valued.
The strong smell of herbs reached his nose, and his expression must have been one of curiosity, for Frankenstein had explained what the herbs were and their use. Mainly, they were to stop his bleeding. He had almost smiled at the explanation. Despite the attempts of his body to heal itself, he was still bleeding (but not as bad as before). Still, he said nothing as Frankenstein continued to clean the area of the wound before applying the herbs.
Frankenstein carried an unusual energy within him. Yes, he was human, but at the same time, there was an abnormal taint to his soul. This abnormality latched onto the human, sinking its hold deep within the crevices of his spirit. At this point, the extra tainted energy was so connected to Frankenstein that the sharp claws dug in deep to his soul. It worried Raizel, not for his own safety, but what should become of Frankenstein should he allow this intruding energy to fully merge within him.
Maybe that was why Frankenstein reminded him of a drowning man. With only his head above the water, there was nothing much that was preventing him from sinking. Still, he clawed at the surface, drawing in meager breaths to stay afloat.
Amidst the wariness and concern, Raizel also felt several warring emotions within Frankenstein; Hatred, rage, and murderous intent.
The negative and hostile emotions were not Frankenstein's, but they were coming from within him, and these emotions were not directed at Raizel.
But at Frankenstein himself.
Raizel's red eyes flickered over to Frankenstein with a worried look.
When Frankenstein left with a promise to return, he took the bowl of water and the bloody rags with him. Left alone in the room once more, Raizel stared at the ceiling without noticing the splintered wood. His hand lightly brushed up against the bandage on his side. As curious as he was to see what Frankenstein had done, Raizel did not attempt to sit up. However, he carefully explored the bandage with his hands, touching the soft covering and feeling the slight bumps of the herbs. Moving his fingers up to his nose, he sniffed and caught another strong whiff of the herbs.
He thought, with a small blush, that he smelled like an herbal brew of tea.
Buttoning up his shirt once more, he winced at the ache in his shoulder. The gash in his side was not the only injury he had sustained, and he knew Frankenstein was aware of that and intended to tend to his other injuries. Though Raizel was thankful for Frankenstein's willingness to help him, there was only so much a human doctor could do for him.
Perhaps now was the best time for him to enter hibernation.
He would not sleep for too long. No, just enough for his body to close up the wounds and patch up the internal damage. Of course, his power would not be fully restored, but at least the pain would subside, and he would not be an inconvenience to Frankenstein.
A small part of him was worried. Now that he had decided to go through with his decision, he could only wonder where he would wake up next. Surely Frankenstein would not keep him here in this room for long. Most likely, he would abandon him and this home, or drop him off somewhere. But after all that the human had done for him already, Raizel could not ask for anything more. After all, despite his misgivings and apparent worries of being around him, Frankenstein had still tried to help him.
However, there was the fact that Frankenstein felt responsible for him. Raizel could feel the human's conflicting thoughts, and the tension rising within him. Such emotions were tearing Frankenstein apart and making this very difficult for him.
If that was the case, Raizel would make it easier for him. He did not want Frankenstein to feel responsible for him.
Closing his eyes, Raizel finally succumbed to the sweet embrace of hibernation.
A/N: I promise, not every chapter will be a repeat of the same scene with different POVs.
