Chapter Thirteen
Insomnia
I believe Evanen would have actually given me a bath if it wasn't for the fact that I found that incredibly embarrassing and disgusting. It wasn't as if I was invalid or anything. So I got kicked in the face by a glass pane. That doesn't mean I can't wash the blood off myself. Still, if I was going to bathe myself, he insisted on removing the glass from my skin himself.
Having glass pulled out of your wounds isn't as painful as putting them in there. In fact, if you ask me, it was more of a relief, seeing as they were starting to annoy me. And Evanen had a keen eye in spotting each peice that peirced my body. Mainly in my forearms and hair, seeing as I had tried to protect my face with my arms during the process of my grand escape from Katha. So I laid on my stomach -- for when I had tackled through the window, I had twisted around to land on the broken glass on my back -- while Evanen picked off the glass and placed them in a bowl on the side of the bed. I stared at the bowl and winced when I saw each glass with my own blood smeared on their clear surface.
"Couldn't have made a more subtle escape, could you? Maybe scream for me or something, seeing as I was in the same house," Evanen muttered as I hissed at the pain when he wiped over a gash on my arm with alcohol. He'd just redo that alcohol bit after I took a bath, so he didn't bandage it up yet.
"Though I'm sure you'd like to think so arrogantly, when I'm on the verge of death, I don't tend to think of you," I stated angrily, though I was only angry because I was in pain. Still, I continued, "Even when you're the one killing me." And Evanen stopped pulling out another peice of glass from my back. With a sudden sharp pain, he pulled out the glass roughly, and I bit down on my tongue in pain. Now that one hurt.
"Go ahead and take a bath. I've already put loose clothing on the toilet in there for when you're finished," Evanen said when he finished with the last peice he could find. I felt sore all over. Sure, I survived the Katha attack, but not without substaining injuries. God, how I hated her. Selfish. Jealous. Stupid. Still, I moved myself up, feeling a bit better seeing as my blood had had time to regenerate. At least I hadn't completely passed out for hours like when I was bitten. Now it was just the blackout after the incident! Progress is good.
The bathtub had turned a dark red after washing my hair, especially since head injuries bleed worse than real injuries on your arms. But after I had washed any signs of a battle in the underworld from my being, I felt better than before. Plus, the silky orange (pretty orange) pj shorts and loose white t-shirt didn't irritate my wounds worse than they already were. I spent a moment in front of the mirror, looking at my forearms and face in the reflection. Wouldn't these cuts normally need stitches? They were still bleeding, and it looked rather scary how open they were. Plus, the throbbing was starting to annoy me.
I opened the bathroom door to walk into the bedroom. On the side of the bed was a young woman with red hair, who was setting up a small tray of stuff on the bedside table. I hesitated, not sure if I should run or if she was just lost. But before I could do anything, Evanen appeared behind me and gripped my shoulders lightly.
"This is Doctor Reeth," Evanen said assuringly, "She's going to help with your cuts." I notice the needles then, and turned away from the woman. I felt suddenly uneasy about getting stitches without the normal hospital surrounding and actual white-coated doctors. It's not like I was afraid of needles. Hello, when you have diabetes (or use to), you tend to no longer be bothered by needles. Unless you really really hate needles.
Before I could even plead my case, Evanen turned me around lightly by my shoulders and led me to the bed side to sit down in front of Dr. Reeth, whose brown eyes matched the freckles on her face. She was human. It was simple to see how I knew that, seeing as she had freckles. Vampires tend to have to proof on their faces that they've seen sunlight. And even if they were born with freckles, they seemed to have no flaws on their complexion. So at the sight of a human doctor, I relaxed a bit.
"First I'll need to examine you," Dr. Reeth said with a kind smile. The kind smile that reminded me of Dr. Wells. Do all doctors obtain the facial expression of utter trust? I allowed her to examine all the wounds inflicted from the window glass. After a moment, she seemed confused. "So what exactly happened?"
"Ever seen Premonition," I asked before Evanen came up with a stupid excuse. Evanen looked at me dangerously, as though he thought I was going to escape through contact means. Apparently he hasn't seen Premonition. "You know, the one with Sandra Bullock and that dude who plays Cole on the series 'Charmed'... Dr. Von Doom on the movie 'Fantastic Four'?" I like to watch movies, and apparently the doctor did, too, for she nodded.
"Well, what happened here was just about what happened with Bullock's character's daughter, when she ran through the glass door. Except I wasn't trying to run to get laundry... I was just running and forgot the doors were shut until I couldn't stop my momentum, which is why most of it got on my arms. And the rest got on my back when I twisted around and landed on my back instead of on my face," I responded with ease. Dr. Reeth was looking at the gash on my head that was still bleeding with slight disbelief. "And I have no idea what's up with my head. I guess I did hit the glass wrong or something, but I can't remember that."
This seemed to ease the doctors thoughts considerably, and she said, "We'll start with the double incisions on your arms before moving to the considerable ammount of damage on your back, and we'll finish with the stitching of the wound on your head. You're actually lucky it didn't get too deep. It's just above your temple, and it could have caused serious life-risking damaging. And it's not too long, either." And I wanted to scratch it.
The inflammed irritation of obtaining the stitches was enough to convince me not to get any tattoos for awhile. Especially when it came around to my forehead. The tugging, stinging sensation brought tears to my eyes, and I kept clinching my jaws tight together, in which the doctor would stop and tell me to relax my jaw so that I wouldn't interupt the process by moving my facial bone structure. When she was finished with the stitching, she went through to sterilize the outside of the stitched wounds before placing on the bandages herself. And then she left without even saying goodbye. I think she might have felt uneasy with Evanen's peircing eyes staring at her every move as though he would attack at any sign of a mistake. But she did stop to mention that it seemed as though I didn't show any signs of concussion besides the blackout directly afterword and the disorientation... which to me was just the action of becoming dazed at the wonder of clouds. Then again, dazed feelings are a symptom of obtaining a concusion.
I started picking at the bandage on my head, wanting to pull it off to get rid of the irritating sting that I could feel underneath it. After a moment, I let my hands collapse to the sides of my thighs as I let my legs hang off the side of the bed. Now to stare at the wall with boredom. I nearly jumped when I felt something cold and metal pass over my head and lay lightly just below my neck. Evanen had snuck up behind me and was now clasping shut the necklace around my neck. He backed up to allow me to examine it for myself.
The cold metal in my hand was carved in the shape of a silver rose, with a blood red jewel in the middle of it. The way the metal absorbed the heat of my skin in one spot, but never became warm itself reminded me of Evanen. I looked at him with confusion, not sure why he had bought me something like this.
"It's a special necklace," Evanen explained, moving next to me, "You know. Kind of like a panic connection, so that the next time you need help like you've needed before now, you can just call my name and no matter where I am... I'll hear you... and I'll find you." I looked from him to the necklace, once again placing it in the palm of my hand to feel the heat of my hand absorb into the metal. For a moment, I just stared at it.
I bent my lips to the red jewel and said in a deep voice, "Testing, testing. Can you hear me?" And I smiled to show that I was just playing around. I let the necklace fall back into place on the bare skin under my neck. The continuous cool of the metal was almost comforting, even though normally it would be annoying.
It was a problem to sleep that night. And the next. And the next. It was as if I was no longer able to sleep, but everytime I did go to sleep, I'd wake up not thirty minutes later, ready for it to be time to wake up. Each time, I just laid there, staring at the dark distance until I nearly felt as though I were asleep anyways. There are many tips as to what to do to solve insomnia, such as standing up and going elsewhere until you feel as though you're going to go to sleep, so that your mind finds that the bed is only for sleeping. And sex, if you must. But I didn't feel like getting up to walk around, seeing as I didn't want to give Evanen any knowledge that I was having problems sleeping. It was furthermore a symptom of a concussion. I had no idea crashing through a window at high running speed could cause this many problems. And it didn't exactly show on the outside, either. Once my wounds stopped bleeding, I removed the bandages for my stitched and unstitched wounds to be seen by all. It mainly pleased Katha to see my supposedly beautiful attire scarred forever.
After the forth night of insomnia -- which is trouble sleeping if I forgot to mention the definition -- I was completely frustrated with being constantly exhausted yet awake. I started back on my track of staring at the wall. When I moved, I moved carefully, expecting the stitching to rip apart. It never did, but I still expected the worse. I used to trace the stitching of my head, but soon I got tired of the throbbing soreness that occured each time I bothered it.
I felt the painful jerk of being startled when a cool hand lightly gripped my arm. "You never sleep anymore," Evanen said into my ear with a note of concern. I closed my eyes in embarrassment. He had noticed after all.
I rolled carefully to my opposite side so that I'd be looking at him. He always slept in his pants, rather than just doing the usual pajamas or boxer thing. Everytime he'd get ready to sleep, he'd just kick off his shoes, take off his shirt, and go to bed with whatever else he was wearing. I enjoyed my orange p.j.s too much to allow them to go to waste, so naturally I'd just wear a t-shirt and my orange pajama shorts.
"It's not like I'm not trying," I whispered for some reason, feeling as though you were suppose to be quiet when it was bedtime. Being that there was no lights on in the house and that there were no windows, it was just about completely dark. So at the moment, I had been staring at where I guessed Evanen's face to be.
"Are you uncomfortable," Evanen asked sincerely. If you mean emotionally; yes.
"Not physically," I responded shortly, "My head keeps buzzing, and it's keeping me awake." There was silence, and I thought for a moment that he might have gotten bored and went to sleep. Well, staring in this direction would be as efficient as staring in any other, so I continued looking in Evanen's direction.
"Maybe you should stop trying," Evanen suddenly stated, making my heart jump with the suddeness of his voice in the black abyss. I heard him chuckle, and for the first time I thought that maybe he might know each time he scares me... and it might amuse him. Jerk.
"Right. Try to sleep by not trying," I paraphrased, and rolled my eyes sarcastically.
"Don't roll your eyes at me," he ordered in a humorous way that sounded as if he were.. gay or something.
Meanwhile, I frowned. I should've figured he'd be able to see me in the dark, but it felt weird not being able to see him in return. He could be... making faces at me or something. His hand could be inches from my face, pretending to flick me or something without my knowledge. With that thought, I felt as though his hand were just inches from mine. But it was just psychological feelings.
"How well can you see me," I asked curiously.
"Perfectly," he answered.
I sat up, raised my hand to where I figured my chin would be, and I held up two fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" I felt him move to sit up as well, and he leaned back against the pile of pillows behind him.
He didn't hesitate. "Two." I raised another. "Three." I lowered all of them. "None." I held all of them up. He didn't say anything. Aha, I got him. He was just guessing! But then I felt his cold fingertips trace over mine with such a perfect connection that I had no doubt he could see perfectly. "All of them."
"Well, that's not fair." Evanen didn't move his hand from mine, but instead started tracing my palm lightly. He gripped the side of my hand, and moved it further away from me until I felt the surface of his cheek, my thumb daintily resting on the corner of his lips. There's his face. His... strange, rock-like face.
I moved closer so that I could place my other hand on the other side of his face. And when I pressed my soft fingers against nearly every inch of his rock solid face, I took notice to the fact that not one part of his face structure had in any way a weak point. Even the eyelids over his eyes seemed like a bulletproof wall to protect his peircing eyes. And his lips, which seemed to be less rock-like than the rest of his face, were smooth under my fingers. Yet I knew it wasn't that he was made of rock. It was his muscles. It was as if his muscles had been hardened to metal so that nothing could beat past them. By the time I was halfway through with blindly touching his face, my hands were nearly as frozen as his skin, yet comfortably so. It wasn't like holding your hands in a bucket of ice. It was more like a warm cloth that held icecubes being pressed against your skin.
"So... hard. And strong," I whispered when I let one lone hand just rest on the side of his jaw. I felt his face move into a smile.
"And yet you're so soft and weak," He stated with irony.
I ignored him. "Doesn't it hurt to be a rock," I asked curiously, "Ever get a muscle ache?" I was only half kidding at this point, but it was interesting.
"I actually wouldn't know if it hurts or not. I was born this way... a rock, in your terms," Evanen responded dully. For a rock, he can be really sensitive. But he didn't burst up and run out fuming like usual. "Isn't it more painful to be so soft? A grape?"
I snorted, "A grape? So what, now I'm a fruit that's used as Jesus' blood?"
"And being a rock is better? Now I'm some object thrown at cars and windows for threats? And building houses," He retorted.
"At least you're not being eaten," I laughed before I became serious once again. "Right. I suppose it does hurt to be soft, with mushy paper for outer protection. It's like what Cecilian said the first night you brought me here: Humans are easy to kill. And since we're easy to kill, it's easy for us to get hurt, too."
"How can you stand the pain of being alive," Evanen asked, sounding interested.
Normally, I'd respond sarcastically in a way that suggested he had said I were a pain to be alive, but I understood what he meant. "Well, it's like how you wouldn't know what it felt like to be in constant pain. I don't know what it's like to never be in pain... except when I've blacked out. And even then I don't know I'm not in pain until I've woken up to be back in pain."
When he didn't say something in return, I started to feel awkward, so I moved back to lay back down. It wasn't long before I felt Evanen move closer to lay directly beside me. "I wouldn't use this against you unless it was needed like a time like this," he whispered quietly so that I barely heard him. I turned my head towards him and felt the tip of my nose brush his.
"Use what," I asked in confusion.
"I'm going to help you," Evanen stated shortly. "Sleep." And with that word, I felt his voice echo into my jumbled head, latching onto each wild thought that was keeping me awake, and directing my each intention to the action of shutting down. And with that, the world was black -- not because of the dark surrounding me, but because I had slipped into the first peaceful sleep in days.