Underground Hatred - My Hero Origins (MHO)

24: Gone-Mother's Comfort

Word Count: 1904

(Kat)

 An hour passed, and Kat's amber eyes never broke their trance against the ceiling. One of her hands tapped a finger against her stomach, her auburn hair laced into a loose braid over her shoulder. Her pupils traced over the shadows that danced on the ceiling like ballerinas in a show. The moonlight that grew brighter and brighter each night along with the street lamps leaked their light into the screaming silence of the house. They were spotlights for the dancers that morphed with each new hour, new symphonies playing. When Kat woke up, the song of midnight played. The track switched to late night blues with the hum of the heat to harmonize.

The ache within Kat's head continued her night owl adventure, mocking her existence. Her bicep no longer burned, but now pulsated with soreness. Moving a single inch only brought on more pain—not only from the sources of pain, but also the muscles she worked so hard. Memories were coming back one by one, piecing together like a puzzle. She found her way to the mark of colliding with the guy in the warehouse, but after that she was still recollecting. It was as if her brain was a computer working overtime, rebooting and updating; but what else was she to do?

Occasional snores came from her left. She ignored each one, focused on regaining her memory and watching the hourly shows play out on the ceiling, but one that sounded in that moment drew her attention away from her tasks. With a grimace on her face and a breath held in her lungs, she managed to sit up from her spot. Her non injured arm cradled her injured one, but her eyes focused towards the source.

At the table sat Davis, head down in his arms, sleeping soundly. His visor was placed to the side, his black hair a wild mess. Only a small piece of his face—the right upper portion—exposed his sleeping expression in Kat's blurry vision. A faint, grateful smile crossed Kat's lips, despite the nulled pain behind her amber eyes.

"L—Let me stay," he insisted, hands buried in his coat's pockets. He stood over Kat's bed, his awkward shrunk position in place.

"No, you need to get proper sleep," Kat retorted, eyebrows furrowed. "I promise I'll be fine. Head back to your dorm. You'll see me tomorrow anyways."

"B—But you're still getting used to your injuries. L—Let me stay the night, just so I can watch over you. I—I don't want you hurting yourself f—further."

"Are you sure? I promise I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry about me."

"I—It's fine. I—I can find a place to sleep around here—b—but you need to rest, now."

Kat continued to study the sleeping man, configuring the details that were fuzzed over. The way he acted, treated her, it was nothing she had ever experienced before. His insistence was unheard of, his care millions of pounds heavier than the light weight remorse anyone else gave Kat. He cared for her, he worried about her. It was an odd experience, but something grew warm in the center of Kat's chest. Her faint smile continued, quirking up slightly more with her cheeks to light up a bright red.

The lack of heating in the house—to prevent bills from spiking—raced goose bumps along Kat's skin. She hugged her forearms into her stomach, a shiver rushing down her spine. With a peek down at her blanket, Kat was ready to pull it back over and fall into her prior position on her bed, but a thought hit her brain: Davis. His sleep was left to the chill of the house while Kat was kept buried beneath the blankets. A sense of guilt cramped her stomach.

Carefully, Kat pushed the blankets off her completely. She made her way to the edge of the bed, quietly stealing the glasses off the bedside table. Both arms were attempted to be used to place the glasses upon her face, but the left one failed half way through the job. The downer was pushed away, and rather replaced with the grateful appearance of a clear world. Kat slowly got to her feet, wary of her spinning brain that could send her tipping over at any moment.