Ice Blue

Chapter 15

He comes back with some clothes and fresh first aid stuff. I'm glad he won't let me exit his room without clothes. All I have are the towels and the comforter. It would look really wrong, if I'd walk out like that. He's treating me abnormally nicely and I don't know what to think of it. I know why he's doing it and I appreciate it but I don't want him to believe that I'm weak or hurt. I am hurt but I don't want to be treated differently because of it. If he wants to treat me nicely then it should be because he's feeling like it. Because he wants it and not because I'm weak and sad. Not because I'm depressed and frustrated. Last night must've changed something.

He hands me a really short, tight, white dress with long sleeves and a short slit on my upper thigh. Some thigh high socks, sneakers and lingerie. I look up at him, still holding the comforter up to my chest. I take the clothes and clear my throat. I'm asking myself, if he will turn around while I change. Would he, if I'd ask him for it? In some other situations I want him to rip off my clothes and touch every inch of me but I don't know, if I want that right now. I don't know, if I can be bare in front of him right now. I don't feel well. Not confident, well and comfortable enough.

He looks into my eyes, understands and gives me the answer to my question. He walks to his panoramic windows and looks out of them, turning his back to me. I see that as a sign and get up immediately, trusting him enough to not turn around all of a sudden. For some reason I don't believe he would do that. He's giving me privacy right now. I doubt he'll change his mind for whatever reason. So I put on the dress immediately and when I look at myself in his mirrors, I realize that my hair isn't as horrible as I thought it would look. It looks clean and healthy. My natural waves make my sharp, heart shaped face look nice. I didn't have them like this in a while. It's nice. Yet I still fix them a little bit and comb my fingers through them.

He turns around, noticing that I stopped moving. I watch him approach me. We don't speak while he takes the socks out of my hand and throws them on the bed. I don't know why he's doing that but I understand when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back towards the bed. I get overwhelmed and almost trip because of the pain in my foot but I manage to sit down on the edge of the end of the bed. My heart skips a beat because I get confused and it starts hammering against my chest when he gets on one knee, right in front of me. My throat goes dry and I have to blink a few times. He takes my injured foot and puts it on his knee, taking the first aid kit as well. My eyes widen, while I watch him take off the bandage. For some reason my eyes get wet.

"You... You didn't have to. I could've done that by myself." I get all flustered, overwhelmed by his sudden actions, as this all is happening too fast for me and the way my small foot is resting on his strong, thick thigh. "Just shut up for a minute and let me do." He says, frowning a bit and I do so. I don't want to be ungrateful and ruin this because it's too nice to be true. I never thought Valentin or someone like Valentin would ever get on their knee for me. Especially for something like this. I thought he'd let me handle it or get me a nurse or anything else but not this and this is making me emotional for some reason. No one has ever taken care of me like that. I like it when someone cares for me. Even if it's one of the meanest men on planet. Especially if it's one of the meanest men on planet. Right now he isn't the meanest at all. I blink my tears away, hoping to not make this embarrassing or cringe for him.

I watch him take some cotton and disinfectant. My muscles tense, knowing it will burn like hell when he'll spray it on the open wounds. He feels that and looks up at me. "Calm..." he says, softly. I nod and as soon as he sprays the cold disinfectant on my foot, I wince with the thousand needles that sting. It feels like he's ripping my skin off and I want to pull away but he grabs my ankle. I cry out quietly, not wanting to seem even more weak. "Ah..." I look down. His tight grip around my ankle is so tight that there's no chance for me to pull away. My toes curl at the pain and I realize how I start to sweat. I grab the sheets under me and take a deep breath while he continues to clean it. I watch his long fingers and how careful he is with me. I'm not used to that. He never treats me like that and it's hard to believe that it is him who's being soft to me right now.