Blood and Roses

29 | Me Or Him

~Camila

Angelo hasn’t woken up yet. Luca recently shared with me that Angelo has entered a comatose state, suggesting a prolonged period of unconsciousness ahead. However, his vitality persists; his heartbeat grows stronger and his breaths are steady and consistent. The skilled hands of medical care have tended to his injuries, rendering his appearance tranquil and unperturbed.

Strangely, this quietude that has settled upon Angelo raises a new spectrum of emotions within me. While I have typically known him to possess an aura of restlessness, his current repose possesses an almost endearing quality. He lies there, free from the torment of pain, his features placid. Yet, he remains suspended in this uncharted territory between consciousness and slumber.

Curiously, Luca’s attachment to Angelo is evident as well. He positioned himself by Angelo’s bedside. Sleep overtook him in that seat, a testament to his devotion to Angelo’s well-being. The passage of time seemed inconsequential, as evidenced by the clock that now reads two in the afternoon.

Luca managed to find an odd sort of solace within the confines of the chair stationed beside Angelo’s bedside. His legs were drawn up towards his chest, and his sideways orientation seemed to defy comfort. Nonetheless, his slumber seemed undisturbed, punctuated by the occasional snore and even a touch of drool.

Taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed, I found myself gently clasping Angelo’s hand in my own. My thumb traced delicate circles on the back of his hand, attuned to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the rhythmic symphony of the nearby monitor. There was an allure in his peacefulness, a certain allure in his tranquil existence that drew me in. Yet, paradoxically, a tinge of resentment mingled with that attraction.

Before me lies Angelo, prone on the bed, an assembly of soft pillows meticulously arranged to envelop him in a cocoon of comfort. His eyes remain sealed shut, an image of serenity painted across his features. The aftermath of his ordeal has been tenderly attended to; his hair gleams with cleanliness, the remnants of blood diligently cleansed from his skin.

A series of support mechanisms encircle him, the silent sentinels of his convalescence. A steadfast brace cradles his sprained neck, offering stability. A sling envelops his right arm. Strapped firmly, a brace envelops his right leg, while a purposeful walking boot graces his left foot. Even the bullet’s mark upon his spleen has been swathed in protective bandages. Yet, the most understated yet vital of them all is the needle that finds its place in his left arm, dutifully administering pain relief, antibiotics, and the vital sustenance of blood. Twin tubes slip discreetly into his nostrils, whispering the breath of oxygen into his lungs.

“Hey, baby…” My voice emerged in a low murmur, punctuating an hour of profound stillness that had settled in the room. The unchanging rhythm of the monitor’s insistent beeping remained the sole companion to our silence. Alongside, the gentle exhalations of Angelo were accompanied by the soft, intermittent huffs of the oxygen tank. “Yesterday’s incident was quite intense, wasn’t it? You had us all quite concerned – your heart even took a brief break. Luckily, Luca’s quick thinking brought you back from the brink. I must admit, Angelo, the thought of losing you was unsettling. Truth be told, having you around means more than I usually express. Life here just wouldn’t be the same without you. And while I can’t deny that things might get a bit rowdy with just Luca at the helm, I suppose we do balance each other out in this apartment, don’t we?” A soft chuckle escaped me as I observed Angelo’s reaction. Though his eyes twitched, I remained cautiously reserved, understanding that it was merely a physiological response rather than an indication of his consciousness returning.

“I find myself missing you quite a bit, baby, even though it hasn’t been all that long since we’ve been apart. Time seems to stretch, though, and the apartment has taken on a noticeable hush in your absence – too quiet, really. I understand that you’re not gone forever; you’re simply in an unconscious state, and it might be some time before you awaken. Nonetheless, it’s a struggle. Your vitality used to fill every corner of this place, and now it feels oddly hollow. Your smile used to light up every room, and now there’s a void. I’m not fond of this change, Angelo – not at all. Baby, please return to me soon. Please wake up.”