Beep…beep…beep….
I think the sound of the heart monitor was what woke me up. My body ached, and at the time I barely recalled what had happened. I opened my eyes, but quickly shut them because they still had to adjust to the light. But there was a soft and distant click that drew my attention to my right, and I reopened my eyes. The door was closing, the lights were off. By my side, holding my hand, was Enjolras. His head was bowed over my hand, his eyes squeezed shut. There was no mistaking the tears that had fallen from my fiancée's eyes - his face was red and puffy, and he sounded congested.
"Please," he begged in a whisper, "please don't take him away from me…"
Beep…beep…beep….
In the corner of my eye, I noticed something I had never seen before, it looked like a guitar. Was it Enjolras's? It was a beautiful piece of artwork, that guitar.
I closed my hand around his, and he looked up. His eyes were still wet and much redder than the rest of his face, and then I saw a tear fall. I smiled weakly at him, and he choked out a sob.
"I was so worried," he breathed.
"I'm strong," I replied. "Don't worry."
"I always worry." He glanced down at my wrist, which was bandaged. "Before I was just afraid these would happen again. You did this because of me…"
"Bullshit," I grumbled. "This isn't your fault."
"I got mad, I had no right too hit you—"
"You had more right than they did! I was a drunken fool, it took one little slap to knock some sense into me."
He kissed my hand, letting the kiss linger. I moved my hand to hold his jaw, my thumb brushing the tears away. He closed his eyes, inhaling shakily, and put one hand over mine.
"Come closer."
Obeying, he slid his chair closer. Taking every bit of strength I had, I sat up and leaned over to kiss him, my hand holding the back of his neck. He returned the kiss before pushing me back. But he moved even closer, keeping a hand on my chest to prevent me from sitting up again. His touch was gentle.
"You've been unconscious for four days," he said. "Doctors said you had a pretty bad concussion, four broken ribs, a broken knee. Some stitches in your wrists, not a lot. I was worried sick, I was almost certain I wouldn't get to hold you again, that I wouldn't be marrying you…"
"I thought you were going to call off our engagement. I was so scared that you didn't love me…"
"Never in a million years."
He leaned in and kissed me. "But now you're safe. I'm not leaving you ever, okay? Even if Courfeyrac tries to interrupt."
"Did my mother come?"
He nodded. "Yes, she did. She went home, though. I wanted her to rest, she looks exhausted. No offense to her, but she looks like she's carrying twins."
I laughed, then nodded. My eyes once again flickered to the guitar, and he followed my gaze. He smiled a little. "I see you noticed my guitar."
"I didn't know you even had a guitar."
"Well, now you do."
"Will you play for me?"
He nodded, standing and going to grab the guitar. He positioned it on his knee, tuning it a little. After a moment, he looked to me. "What song?"
I shrugged. "Anything."
He hummed, and began playing a more upbeat song. I didn't recognise the tune, which was unusual considering I listened to so much music. But I soon understood why.
It was his own song.
I listened to the music, eyeing his hands as they strummed the guitar strings quickly. At first I thought he was good, but then he started to sing. His voice was amazing, there was no doubt about that. And his own lyrics were magnificent.
'Some people often speculate
If I will ever have a date.
I tell them always "It isn't true."
But that was before I ever met you.
Your eyes, they had a certain spark
And your neck was one I longed to mark.
In my eyes you are my star,
The one I call my Capital R.
Our lips did meet that cold autumn night
The moon above was shining bright.
I moved with you inside your car
Making sweet love to my Capital R.
It took a short time for me to fall
And in my mind you were easy to recall.
I fell in love, and before I knew
I only wanted to be with you.
Capital R, you stole my heart.
Please promise me we'll never be apart.
Your arms feel so right around me,
And in your hold I long to be.
My friends will tell you I am cold,
And that you should not be so bold.
I'm not worth your time, I often say
But you still come to me every day.
Just as to warriors love to spar,
I adore you so, my Capital R.
As two birds of a feather would be,
It's my Capital R, just him and me.'
I beamed at him. I wanted to jump up and hug him, but my injuries prevented that. I reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, tugging him in and kissing him deeply. He let out a soft moan, hand clutching at my shirt.
"I forgot to mention musicians are hot," I breathed against his lips.
He kissed me again. "I have another one. I've got a few."
"Sing me more, please!"
He glanced down at my hand and I let go, flushing in response. After a moment, he began to play a second song, this one a little slower.
'If you had a chance to change,
What is it you would rearrange?
Would you change a part of you?
Or would you change the world's view?
Maybe your hair isn't pretty enough.
Maybe your skin is a bit too rough.
Your eyes of blue don't look so good—
That doesn't not mean "Shed your blood."
Perhaps you think that you're too tall.
Or could it be that you're too small?
Your stomach, you think, is a bit too big
So you aim to be as skinny as a twig.
That hair of yours is much too wild
And only right when on a child.
Your favourite clothes no longer fit,
And 'cos of this your wrists are slit.
You want to change 'cos you can't see
You are full of inner and outer beauty.
No matter what you think and say,
No matter how much you ask me to go away.
You are so perfect the way you are
(Even though that is a tad bizarre).
My love for you still grows and grows,
But why am I the only one who knows?
There is nothing I want to change,
No part or piece I would exchange.
There is no piece I'd get rid of,
Every facet of you is one I love.
Change can be good, change can be bad
But either way you'll end up mad.
You shouldn't change the person you are,
The one I love, my shining star.'
This one hit home, it really did. Every song he wrote somehow did, but this one more so. I had always viewed myself as an imperfect person. I was imperfectly imperfect. But this was his way telling me otherwise. I wanted to hear more, but when I asked he said no. He wanted me to rest, pushing me back against the pillows.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Please, Dionysus, sleep. You need your rest."
"Sing me to sleep?" I asked. "Please?"
He sighed, smiling, and nodded. "Of course."
I snuggled under the covers, and he sang me a few songs. None of the ones he sang to me were his own songs, they were all covers. He sang various tunes from decades past, even a few Broadway songs, which surprised me. It took me a few minutes to fall asleep, but there was no mistaking the smile on my face, even as I dozed off.