MADMAN'S ARMS

32

The tasks of my initial hours of work were firstly the round of medication, thereafter some office work checking on files and schedule routines, lastly to finish off with some supervising in the gathering room before lunch.

I walked through the corridors with the medical kart, visiting my patients to say good morning and give them their scheduled dose of drugs.

Jacob was a lot easier to deal with now that I wasn't new anymore, and Grace was the same as always, quiet and withdrawn, staring up at the ceiling or into the wall, and Brandon was as always just... Brandon.

"Good morning, Brandon,"

With careful steps, I walked inside the room with his dose of medication. The just-woken-up boy sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes with a yawn before he let a shy smile come forward. The dimples made me blush and I looked down to the floor in embarrassment of my reaction.

"Hi, Beverly," The hot, raspy morning voice just made my cheeks warmer. I barely couldn't look at him, I was too abashed about my red face, and I didn't want it to get worse as I knew it would if I allowed my eyes to meet with his.

I decided to say nothing more and just handed the pills and the glass of water over to him. By now I couldn't care less about him calling me by my name. That was just something to give up on because it only made him more playful and naughty when he noticed my annoyance about it. Also, the sound of his voice spelling my forename was something especially attractive itself. I wanted him to say it, repeat it, again and again.

"How does your skin feel today?" The redness over his already wounded, muscular arms looked a lot better than yesterday.

It was hard for me to let go of the terrifying imagination of him being forced into the boiling hot water, damaging his skin with the worst of anguishing pain.

"It feels better," The short words slipped through his swollen lips and I left the subject with his answer. I watched him as he swallowed his pills in a quick bolt. Not even did he touch the glass of water.

"I'm glad to hear! By the way, I hope you'll attend the gathering hours later, you could use some different surroundings," I said happily, and Brandon looked at me and carefully let the shy, bad smile come through again.

"I will," He replied through his leering.
Starting to walk my way out of the room again, I turned my head around just before closing the door.

"Good! I'll see you later then,"

Because of the fact that Brandon took a lot of my working time, I only had three patients in my care at this moment. Normally, the nurses had between five and seven patients each in their care, but since I got allotted the treatment of Brandon not very soon after I started working at St: Nicolai, it just remained with me having three of them. Surely, I was glad about the amount of time I got to spend in the company of Brandon since he really needed that attention and repeating work of progress.

It was always important for me to be enough and serve my patients the way they needed, so my present schedule was perfect for me.

As I finished the morning round of medication, I already started thinking about the afternoon.
In just a couple of hours, I would get to take Brandon out in the sun.

The thought of him being happy about something, also made me glad with the sympathy I felt with him. He was a destroyed man from the inside and out, and right now I was craving to heal him more and more for every passing second.

I knew by now that it wasn't only the professional part of me that wanted to help him, my emotional and personal self also wanted it, because he was something different, he made me feel something different, and I wasn't denying it for myself anymore.

His dangerous and broken character made me feel too much adrenaline and excitement for my body not to react in a way of arousal, and even if our kiss was an impetuous mistake, the attraction I felt didn't escape my physical functions.

I knew I wanted more deep inside, but it was too wrong not to resist the temptation and strong desire. Also, I didn't want Brandon to believe that I played with his feelings or that it was okay for him to do the same with mine.

Even if I was weak, I had to remain strong in front of him and not let my hormonal emotions take over me.

Just looking at him made my knees feeble, every feature was something different, something I had never laid my eyes on before. His pale, porcelain-like skin with flaws of the damages he's done himself, and the plump, perfectly sized and hydrated lips, the tiny dimples his cheeks exposed whenever he was near a smile.

The messy, dark-blonde and naturally curled angel hair, and the tall, skinny, muscularly violent body of his.

All of it made me weaker every time I saw him, no matter how much he frightened me. Whether it was out of attraction and emotion or out of fear and frustration, he still made my heart pound in an excruciating beating way.

Either if the nervosity was there because of my hormones or my reiterative fright, he still made the butterflies flicker like crazy inside of me.

By now, after my absence, I slowly began to apprehend he was not the only one who needed me, who couldn't be without me. I needed him just as much since when I was away from him long enough, I felt something was missing from me as well.

I still didn't know what it was, but I knew I had an emotional connection to him somehow. Was it the person himself I was missing? Was it the adrenaline rush? The excitement? Or was it the power, the feeling of being the strong one, the one in charge over the locked up, destroyed, and hurt man?

I didn't know for sure, and even if I would never find out, I surely knew that I was as well, very much in need of the strong, obsessive rush from his proximity...