The Cursed Doctor

Part 4

"You need to leave!" I insist and snatch up his top clothes, fighting back my budding panic attack. That trust he placed in me has surely just shattered and the repercussions may just cost him his life.

Instead of reflecting my haste, he stands calmly in the middle of my kitchen. His hands are resting peacefully in his pants pockets as he stares dreamily at the ceiling.

"Nitsuke?" I ask delicately.

His head luls down to look at me, a strange energy flowing off of him. "I cannot leave."

"What?" How ironic that the one time he should be going he stays. I'm painfully reminded of the solitude he leaves in his wake.

"If I leave now, it will implicate me further."

"So... you'll dress," I hypothesize as I pace, "stay, and insist that Damien only saw things?"

The doctor takes his shirt from the pile in my arms. "You'll agree with me," he continues my prediction as he pushes his arms through the sleeves of his button-up, "and as this is your house, the constable must side with us."

I begin to bounce in front of him with renewed haste and anxiety. "No, no, no," I beg.

He stops adjusting the button on his cuff to look down at me critically. "You refuse to lie for me?"

"Oh no," I reach out to not only comfort him with my words but also my touch— except I stop, hands hovering above his bare chest peeking out from the open shirt. I'm still having trouble believing I'm allowed to touch him after months of look with your eyes, not your hands. "You've obviously done nothing wrong, I would be defending you adamantly."

His thumb pushes the cuff button through, his hands now adjusting his collar. "Then what's the issue?"

"Damien's brother is the constable!" I'm bouncing up and down again, wishing he'd dress faster.

"Ah—" my doctor pauses with a jolt, "I see." His arms fold in front of his chest as his brilliant mind works out this puzzle.

A few moments pass and I can't wait for him any longer; my fingers dash up to the top button of his shirt. He jumps slightly in surprise but unfolds his arms to allow me to finish.

In silence, he watches as I continue to reclothe him. Sexual tension joins my rising panic in accelerating my heart rate. It becomes so fast, the pounding is louder than my own breathing in my ears.

Hat back on his head, all that's left is his gloves and coat— both of which I'm holding out to him impatiently. "Okay," I exhale shakily, trying to formulate what I will say when Damien returns with his brother. But first, "Are you going out the front or the back?"

"Hm? I'm not leaving."

"B-b-but..." I practically dissolve on my kitchen floor.

The doctor takes his coat and opens it. Among the many instruments inside he selects a very large syringe. Within the glass casing of the sinister object a gold liquid radiates. My kitchen is very bright, but even still, the substance suspiciously glows. I swallow.

A little dazed, I take the coat again when it's offered to me. The doctor moves past me and sits once again at my kitchen table. The recently buttoned cuff is undone and he rolls the sleeve up past his elbow.

"Wait!" I dash down to my knees and cover the tainted vein underneath the hovering needlepoint. "What is that? What are you doing?"

"Release me."

My grip tightens on him, a little afraid of what disobeying him may cost me later, but more afraid of this frightening self medication may do to him.