My leg is elevated on a rolled up blanket on the couch. She sits a bit away, replacing the bag of ice placed on my foot.

"Ugh, this sucks!" I say, flinching as the bag applies pressure to the swelling. "Maura, you don't have to play babysitter with me." I try to convince her. She sits there, still observing my foot like it's the most amusing sight in the whole world. She's silent.

"I did this, I'll fix this." her decisiveness hits.

It's my natural instinct to roll my eyes at the absurdity of what she's claiming. I sit up, propping myself on the pillows she stacked behind me, and attempt to, for the thousandth time tonight, tell her it's not her fault.

"Maura, you didn't do this."

"I made you wear the high-heels."

"And I'm the moron who didn't watch where she was stepping." I laugh. The pain doesn't make me feel like laughing, but I sense if I'm positive, it could ease her state of mind. I don't want Maura to see me hurt, even if it's for the stupidest, most banal and non-lethal injury ever. I don't want it because I know she cares about me and I know it makes her sad. I hate it when she's said.

Long ago, I swore I'll do everything in my power to keep her from hurting.

Therefore, if I'm the culprit bringing her to such emotions, then I'll have to beat myself to death.

And that's a paradox. You know why? Cos then she'll be hurting again.

So, there I am, smiling, ignoring the pain streaming from the foot, up my leg, annoying my brain. On the way back from the doctor she insisted I immediately see, Maura lectured me about some important nerves that pass the side of my foot and that I might have affected, to what they are connected and what they're responsible for. I remembered some of it. Most of the time I was failing trying to forget how only minutes ago my leg was moving on its own when the doctor did the electro-myo-something during his examination. Creepy and disturbing and scary and plainly shitty.

I understand bullets and guns, blunt force and beating, cuts and scalpels... oh how I know about scalpels. The dusty untouched piano in the corner can tell you how much. But the point is, this was weird. Stuff wasn't being done to my body, stuff was being done with my body, because the impulses the doctor sent were listened to by my own muscles. I knew it's for my own good, but it felt like a complete loss of power, betrayal by my own body. It made me see how easily it skips out of control. And I don't like not having control. Damn it, Ihate not having control, it makes me sick and nervous and nauseous and panicked.

So to sum up, my day sucked.

You know why else?

"Jane, we can reschedule tonight's dinner for whenever you can... function or, walk, properly... again." she smiles at me, attempting to appear innocent, but I know she's still scolding herself and pinning this on her own corkboard of faults and caused mishaps. "No heels! I promise!"

That's why else. Because this wasn't nearly the evening I had in mind. I laugh at the sick sarcastic joke my head constructs: At least you got her to come to your place. Score, Jane!

I shake my head, still in the conversation with myself, but she thinks the disapproval is addressed to her.

"Oh, well I'd understand if you don't want-"

"I want to." It bursts out of my mouth on its own. Was there someone with an electromyog- that thing, around to make me say it?

She looks at me and I drown. They capture me, all the tiny dots and lines in a million hues of green and gold. I can't look away.

Those are the windows to a soul I'm ceaselessly a prisoner of.

And once I'm in, invisible bars settle to block my escape. The truth is, most of the time I don't want a way out. I wanna keep staring. And I do. She doesn't move. My reality is filled with sounds of springs and rivers and chirpy melodies, yet there is absolute silence, soothing and pleasant. I'm afraid to break it. So I never move either.

"I'll return this there." She lifts up the old ice bag, molten and wet.

We have a few things in common, me and the package. Maura's been around us, she's touched parts of our surfaces, and now we're sitting molten and, yes, well, let's not pretend otherwise, wet. Fearing the moment her hands part.

"Thanks." I call.

"There's nothing to thank me for, Jane."

When she returns, she sits close, careful to not even near a way of hurting what must look like an embarrassingly fragile vulnerable me.

"Yeah there is," my grin forces one of her too as she struggles to discover the reason for thanking.

For being you. For proving I am capable of such fervent emotions and am of flesh and blood like everyone else. For breathing. For not being sad, because that would kill me. For every night you appear in my mind. For every fantasy my brain has modeled of us. For the casual touches and comforting hugs, for the way you look at me, for the way you smile at me, for the way you lift me up in the clouds and the way you ground me back to Earth again. For the way I worry about you when you're out late and for the way I worry about your nightly companions if you're even missing a hair off your head. For the warming of my chest when I see you. For letting me be around you. For existing.

"For the ice and stuff, and taking care of me."

Coward.

"Of course, Jane. Anytime."

I feel like hugging her. My body can't turn that way without me moving my injured foot.

I feel like my body physically needs to hug her. Boxing doesn't make you as stretchy as yoga does, and I don't do yoga.

I feel like I'd rather hug her than keep breathing.

"Come here." My arms are open and she moves so we can hug. She nests her head in my shoulder and I bury mine in her hair. It's soft and gentle on my face and I wish it is my pillow. Every night. Forever.

But it's not.

"Should we order something for dinner?" I ask when we break off.

I'm not hungry, not for food. But, beautiful, I called the universe and booked your splendor for my heart. So please, stay with me. Don't leave me alone tonight.

She nods and my soul is at peace.

I personally feel really good getting into this. Btw, that foot hurt thing? Yeah, I busted mine today, and just had to vent the experience :/

Please tell me what you think. And, again, suggestions are more than welcome. :)