Possibilities

・☆《Part Forty-Nine》☆・

When she woke again, sunlight streamed through the open bedroom door, from the glass balcony door. She rolled over to face Jensen.

Eyes closed. On his stomach. The one pillow he had, thrown to the floor. His shirt removed during the night.

Keeping her head on her pillow, lying on her side, she stared at his peaceful face. But she couldn't shift focus away from his wounds. His split lip. A purple bruise on his cheek, around his nose, and surrounding the cut on his lip. Dried blood in his eyebrow drew her attention to a small cut amongst the hair.

I must have missed that while cleaning him up, she thought. I wonder how. Deep down she knew the nearness of their bodies and tenderness of the moment had been her distraction, but she didn't want to admit it to herself. Not yet.

Being shirtless allowed her to see the deep blue and purple bruises covering his ribs. The blankets pulled down to his hips showed the same bruises spread over his waist, curling around to his stomach, disappearing underneath him. She wanted to know how far they went. How bad they were. But that would only make her feel worse about the entire situation.

Renna had most of the blankets over her. He didn't have much. She must have stolen them from him during the night. He had enough tangle around his legs, but not enough to cover his top half.

His slow breathing relaxed her. A peaceful rhythm. He had his hand rested in front of their faces. The urge to reach out and take it—hold it—overwhelmed her, but she resisted.

She watched him for a while, hoping he wouldn't wake up to see her staring.

Gratitude for the man in front of her swelled inside her heart. He's done so much for me. So much. I would love to do something to show him how thankful I am. But what?

She thought about buying him a gift, but she didn't know what to get him. Or a good ole thank-you note, or a card, but that didn't seem like enough. It didn't take her long to land on the obvious answer.

Careful and slow, she got out of bed. Eyes on him, and holding her breath, not wanting to wake him. Because she watched him and not her path as she walked towards the door, as she reached the end of the bed, her toes hit the leg of the bed frame. It knocked the bed. Pain shot through her foot.

She lifted her leg to grab her throbbing toes and opened her mouth but held back her scream. Her teeth clenched together, and she hopped around a little. Looking back at him, expecting him to be awake, she found him sound asleep.

Releasing a breath, she stepped out of the room, and shut the door slow to not let it click.

In the kitchen, she found a hair tie on the counter, and pulled her hair back. After a glass of water, she set to work. Grabbed ingredients from the fridge. Set the pan on the stove.

If he doesn't like French toast, this thank-you will backfire.

Happiness. Being in the kitchen never failed to bring her pure happiness. Her body could relax. She could breathe. Peace. Calm.

As she placed the bread in the pan, the door to the bedroom opened and Jensen walked out. Shirt on. Wild blue hair. Stretching. Hands behind his head, elbows up.

"Good morning," Renna sang, waving the spatula.

He smiled. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"