“Can I have that?” Noah asks softly, staring at it.
I hand it to him, “You didn’t like the one of me with the emasculators?”
He sighs and stands up “That photo was the beginning of the end.” He smiles and bends down to kiss me on the forehead. I frown when he steps back, fear that I will be alone skitters down my spine.
His eyebrows draw, he’s still not back to normal, “I’m just going to get the nurse to refill that,” he nods to the IV understanding me better and better all the time. Before he goes, he opens his phone and shows me that he still has that picture but when he turns around to leave, I catch a glimpse of sadness in the shadows of his face. I can’t wait for the day that those shadows are chased away for good, that he believes he’s what I want.
I settle back into the starchy sheets. I hate the feel on my legs, so I rummage around under the bed until I find my jeans, their fabric shockingly soft compared to the sheets as I slide them on. My side still hurts as I lift my hips to shimmy them over my butt. I pray it doesn’t hurt for much longer, I can’t cope with the thought of not doing anything, and while Nat is here, I’d love to get some of the harder jobs done around Harry’s.
I twiddle my fingers waiting, everyone is asleep like they should be, I guess. Hospitals are quite horrible places to be in, so many people but you are so alone. I feel for people that have to stay here more than a couple of nights.
I let my imagination run wild in regards to what Nat and Chops could be doing. I hope they are having a ball and no one has said anything about Chops. I pull my phone from the drawer next to me. There are lots of texts from Nat, some from Seth and a load from Mum.
I ignore the last two and open Nat’s. I smother a laugh, I’m not disappointed, he is loving the hell out of the Reaper costume, in the city causing grief. He’s filming people as he chases them immersed in character, Chops is giggling, almost out of control in the background. I bet people think he went up against the Reaper and lost his face for it… and he is now his minion. Woe to any that say anything in that regard, I think, with Nathan armed with that sickle. Nat could make a baby’s bottle dangerous.
I don’t know why I don’t open Seth’s. I can’t remember the other night too well but... I remember that almost paralysing sensation of being alone, really alone, with no one at my back. I would never have let anyone gang up on any of my friends, not D, not Seth, not Wade.
I’m not sure if I’m feeling this way because Nat is here reminding me of what I’m used to, that his friendship is the level I’ve come to expect or that somehow, the fact that it may be the realisation that Seth made a choice which makes me feel sad or a have a sensation of loss. Maybe there is another reason, I don’t know.
I stare at his name trying to work out why and how I feel about him remembering some of the fun stuff, his hair when I permed it, the bull catching, lots of things until Noah walks back in, I raise my eyebrow as a nurse follows him before almost groaning out loud when I see who. The redhead woman, she must work the early morning shifts. She doesn’t seem overly amused as she eyes me, then narrows her gaze as she scans the room, probably for Nat.
I’m waiting for her to search under my bed or in my bathroom for him when a thought hits me...Did Noah actually talk to her? He’s been getting more and more talkative but...
“Is there a problem here or are you about to create another one?” she snaps. “I’m not in the mood, I’m warning you.”
I yawn, I’m tired, and it’s either that or an eye roll. I turn to the IV, “Can you change that over, please.”
“I came in before, but you weren’t here,” she bristles like I’d accused her of negligence not that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. F.Y.I. I was actually nice, seems to happen when I’m exhausted.
“I was visiting the maternity ward,” I reply quietly, trying not to focus on the blood leaving my face as I remember that scene from hell. I would rather deliver 26,920,671,263 calves by C-section, with Amanda, than watch a human being been born. It makes me remember, though, that Nat would love to try the gas stuff the girl was sucking on, it was the only entertaining thing through the whole ordeal when she started talking crazy and laughing at things no one else could see. I’ll have to tell him about it when he picks me up.
Her pale, green eyes flick to Noah for a second, assessing. I stifle a chuckle at Noah his beautiful, bright apple skin gaze is blaring his impatience.
“Oh, I should have guessed it was you,” she snaps, seeming almost disgraced at her oversight.
“Sorry?” I ask, not even slightly perturbed at her glower. “I don’t blame you for not knowing it was me, whatever it was. I haven’t been here long enough for you to get to know me. Once you have, you’d just assume if I’m not where you can see me, strapped to a bed, I’m generally up to no good.”
“I figured that out early in the picture,” she mumbles under her breath. “The hospital wouldn’t cope with your idea of what constitutes as suitable activities.”
“A Grim Reaper in a hospital isn’t that far-fetched,” I retort dryly, getting more comfortable, stifling another yawn. Not even sure what I’m talking about anymore.
“For certain minded people I could see that and for your information, babies do not like practicing for - what was it you told the nurse? Quidditch matches,” she spits the last two words as she moves to the IV. I roll my eyes now; I wasn’t actually flying them around I just kind of held a couple and moved myself around. They were a bit too scary to move from against my body. “I have to ask, it’s been nagging me all this time... are you and your brother clinically insane?”
Noah’s head snaps to her. His tendons pop as his muscles bulge. Maybe my octopus hasn’t shrunk entirely, I realise as I appreciate the view. Muscles are definitely meant to entrap young girls into skipping merrily down the path which ultimately leads to the maternity ward, where I’m sure their octopus does die a premature and torturous death. My body doesn’t seem to care, but my mind does.
I don’t like the way he is looking, rather haunted and feral. I can only guess that there are many personal reasons why he would react that way. Nathan certainly doesn’t like the insane label; it doesn’t worry me though.
“If I was assessed to be clinically insane, or ‘whatever’ insane, it wouldn’t matter me, or my brother, as it would only be by someone uptight like you that deems that we’re different, and therefore, in your words ‘insane’,” I shrug not really into this. “But I believe you’re wrong. The babies stopped crying while flying, clearly showing a love for their foretold purpose but... maybe, maybe... I should have planted the ones that were crying in big pots, huh? That’s what Nathan would have done.” I grin at her adding a slightly mad glint to my eyes. “Damn, I’m so annoyed I didn’t think of that, I’ll definitely do that next time. Thank you.”
Noah has no idea what I’m talking about, but he stares at the nurse with his arms crossed still with that hostile gleam in his eye. I’ll have to read Harry Potter to him. She knows what I’m talking about though, interesting. Potter fan.
She takes a step back and stares at me. I keep smiling up at her. I like it that she doesn’t try to tell Noah to leave, but one look at him and I don’t think there would be anyone on earth - maybe except Nat and well, Dad - that would right now. Dad would tell the real Grim Reaper not only to go to hell but just what he could damn well do there, not that Dad would ever be caught dead in a hospital.
“There will be no going back to the maternity ward for you and don’t go before the doctor has seen you in the morning,” she says between gritted teeth, like in all reality, she desperately wants to tell me to leave right now.
I only have the energy to nod. The only thing I’m interested in is standing right at the end of my bed.
“And while I was surprised to see you have an actual girl friend, tell her to visit during visiting hours,” she snaps, happy to condemn me again. Problem is I have no idea who she is talking about.
“Who was it?”
I ask through another yawn. It couldn’t have been one of my crew, they knew I was getting out in the morning.
“The blonde girl,” and that’s it, the end, all she’s going to tell me like she believes my type would only have one possible candidate as a friend – another mental escapee. She walks off, and I shuffle over again to make room for Noah. I can’t help but watch him as he moves gracefully and weird little zings begin to zap over my body as he settles next to me remembering what it felt like to be up against him with nothing in between. Gawd, what will kill my octopus? Twins? Triplets?
We both turn on our sides, me on my good side and him facing me. The dimness of monitors provides enough light for us to see each other. I want to ask him about Zilzie, about how he felt going with Nathan, about what seeing the babies meant to him, about so much but all I can think of is wanting to be able to touch him, not every now and then when he’s open to it but every time I want to.
His green eyes seem to glow emerald as we stare at each other.
I want him to touch me, reach out stroke my face, pull on my hair. Anything. I’m almost burning for it. I try hard not to squirm closer.
His gaze intensifies, but I know instinctively that if I move, even the slightest, that he will pull away. I see the turmoil in his eyes, his mind fighting with his body.
His mind fighting with his body.
I repeat that as my own body burns alive wanting me to place even a fingertip against his cool looking skin. Trace the inked lines and follow their paths to wherever they lead.
I move and just like I predicted he closes down. Heavy shutters make that face go cold and pull away. I’m up and drawing the curtains around the bed.
“Please, don’t Av,” he pleads, muscles banded as he holds his arms against himself, fists clenched.
“Trust me on this,” I smile cheekily, knowing he’s thinking the wrong thing. I’m not ready for that, no way, I just want to touch him when I want not dive into the deep end of splitting my soul. (Nan told me that is what happens when you do the deed, so forgive me, if I’m rather hesitant on that topic especially as I envisage my walking Horcrux host). But I realise something about myself, and I must stay true to me. I’m an affectionate person, and I’m not going to constrain any part of what I am, for anybody.
I miss it, I want it. I miss my Dad reading the news to me as I lie on his lap, I miss walking into the TV room at home and seeing Dell with her head on one of Gus’s legs and lying my head on his other, his warm hand on my shoulder. I miss seeing Jordie sitting on the bonnet of a car, lost in thought of his next creation and how I can snuggle under his arm as we just sit in peace, I miss Pop and his hands trying so hard to master a fish braid or whatever in my hair. I miss the closeness.
It must show on my face. “No,” he tenses even further. “Trust me Thornie, I can’t after... before... I can’t.”
“We’ll see,” I wink before disappearing through the curtain to the lady with the urine bag and rude hand gestures in the next bed. I watch the monitor for a moment then the slip the device from her finger carefully and place it on mine. I listen to her breathing, it remains unchanged. Please, God, don’t let anything happen to her.
The monitor silently rolls under my pushing hands and glides through the curtain, Noah is up and pacing. Stressed until he sees me again. He startles at the new addition.
“Where were we?” I grin slipping into bed after positioning the monitor.
He’s hesitant. “Av...”
“Remember this tatt?” I lift my hand to show him the horseshoe with wings. “Remember it reminds me to smash through every barrier I come across, sometimes that means facing your fears and realising they come from something else and aren’t really what we feel. What we want to feel, we have to smash what’s stopping that, show ourselves it’s hurting us. It’s wrong.”
He says nothing, warily slipping back into the position we were in before. I wait until he lowers those green eyes that make my heart rate pick up, his gaze once again softening and heating, cooling and hardening.
Swiftly removing the finger pulse thing, I slip it on to his and reach over to turn up the volume until we can faintly hear the beep of his heart beats.
Lying there drinking him in until the beeps settle to a slow rhythm that seems to fire my body with every beat, I pray this will work, “I’m a pretty honest person,” I start in a whisper. His eyes flick to my lips. “I’m affectionate, I need to be close sometimes,” he flinches, and his heart rate spikes.
“Settle, petal,” I smile softly. “I just watched a watermelon sprout from a body part the size of a peach, one I have incidentally, so I’m not talking about going down that path. My peach will remain intact, thank you, until I say so. I’m talking about lying there watching Harry Potter, so you know about planting babies with your arms wrapped around me, or when I see you, I want to run like hell and throw myself on you. You’re like an Amber to me, sometimes I just ... need to touch her.”
His heartbeat is double speed now, thumping crazily. Guilt and fear fight on his face. “I’m... sorry, Av,” he stammers. “I can’t, I’m terrified I’ll hurt you.”
I understand the unspoken words, he thinks I will leave him, and he would let me, knowing I want more.
“I don’t want more than you can give, but I don’t want you to be stuck in a mindset that isn’t even yours, maybe your heart is stronger than the hold your dad has over your mind?”
It takes so long for him to settle that I wonder if I’ve made a massive mistake, but my body is telling me that I will not accept anything but an honest try. Sometimes with horses that are scared of something, I just keep going at them with it until they stand still.
Tension swirls in his eyes egged on by panic, he nods, his heartbeat suddenly slow.
I don’t move for a long time as I savour the closeness. He’s beautiful. His gaze changes too, and suddenly I’m lost in a place I have never been, and definitely unsure how to navigate.
Great Avalon, all this build up, and now you have no idea what to do. Blind leading the blind alert, people. I don’t know what to do. My body just is so badly wanting right now it’s not logical. Nan always told me to go with what comes the most naturally, as it will do the best job for you in the end.
I take a deep breath and lick my lips. The reaction draws Noah’s gaze and his heart rate spears to a new height. I can feel the tension rolling from him as the bed slightly trembles.
You keep on telling me I’m wasting time
But to call it wasting time, oh that’s a crime
And you think it’s crazy what I’m tryna do
Well baby, I’m a fool for you
I sing softly, and his heartbeat steadies as the tension slowly releases its fanatic hold. I reach out and grab his hand, slowly tracing each calloused finger between my thumb and forefinger as I sing.
‘Cause underneath the darkness
There’s a light that is trying so hard to be seen
His breathing hitches as I make small circles on his palm. His heartbeat accelerates a little and his wide chest flares impressively as he inhales deeply.
And I know this, cause I’ve noticed
A little bit shining through its seams
My fingertips start to make a long, looping journey up his arm on a path of ink, I watch as they follow the lines. Goosebumps tickle but soon subside. Glancing up at him I find his eyes closed as he leans against the pillow and his heart beats steady again. He bites his lip.
I don’t know why but that simple movement almost unhinges me to kiss him, but that is something my bloody body is begging me to do mindless of the problems it would inflict on him.
My eyes rake over his form as I continue tracing those swirling patterns, concentrating on anything but his lips. He’s almost double my size, and if something went wrong with this exploration, it is extremely certain he could inflict some grave damage. I smile as he lets a small moan slip through his teeth like his lips are begging me to look at them. I guess I�
��m lucky I’m in hospital, I think wryly. But seriously, even Nat didn’t think he posed a danger.
And if this is what it takes,
Then let me be the one to bear the pain
My fingers reach his bicep which seems to harden and relax underneath my touch. I stretch my hand trying to capture their breadth, I really, really, like biceps, I’m lucky that the heart rate thing is not on me or the staff would think I’m experiencing heart malfunctions. It’s kind of exciting, but a bit of me is nervous. Nervous at what is happening to me right now. Maybe a thermometer would be more of a signal than my heart.
He opens those eyes and watches my hand.
Oh, if this is what it takes,
I’ll break down these walls that are in our way
Those gorgeous eyes lock on to mine and not for the first time I see it glowing there, hope and something so much deeper. Something that ignites me. He moves then and pulls his shirt over his head, definitely glad I’m not on the monitor. I think he realises that this is a different moment for us, one where I’m just as tentative as he is. He swallows and flicks a piece of hair back from my face, it makes me exceedingly happy.
‘Cause if you don’t understand yet
Then I’ll never let you forget
I follow the patterns and words to the hard planes of his chest, and he watches me intently, the only indication of his reaction is the heart beats in sync with mine; almost out of control. Almost but not quite there yet.
That you don’t have to do this on your own
I’ll be your shoulder to lean on
I’ll be your right when you feel wrong
So, come on take my hand we’re moving on
When I’m exploring the mountains and valleys of his abs, his hand takes one of mine and makes the same tracing patterns I made on his. Mirroring the exact same plan of exploration I took.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 30
