Dishonor From Nightmares

Chapter 31

As he shuffled towards the mirror, the first rays of morning light revealed a face that bore the evidence of the previous night's altercation. A furrow formed on his brow as he anxiously studied the fresh, gilded scars etched across his skin, souvenirs from the fierce clash with the proxy at Timur's house—a mere eight hours ago. The scars told a tale of pain endured, and battles fought, a visual reminder of the price paid for survival.

Josh's reflection stared back at him, a testament to resilience. The weariness in his eyes contrasted with the determination that lingered beneath, a quiet promise that he would continue to face whatever challenges came his way.

After contemplating, he turned away from the mirror, his body demanding a swift change from comfort to readiness. His clothes were donned with practiced efficiency, each garment a shield against the world outside.

As he glanced downward, his attention was caught by a lily of the valley-patterned claw clip resting on the dresser.

The flickering candlelight lent an ambiance of warmth and comfort to the room. In the center of this haven, Josh sat on the well-worn couch, his arm clenched tightly, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his shirt. Pain etched across his face, he grimaced as Timur approached, his gentle eyes filled with concern.

"Easy now, Josh," Timur said in a soothing voice, his hands holding a first aid kit. "Let's take care of that wound."

Josh nodded, sweat forming on his forehead from the pain and the tension. Beside him, Kristīne knelt down; her soft expression mirrored Timur's concern. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, her fingers caressing a delicate lily of the valley hair clip adorned her locks.

"We're here for you, Josh," Kristīne murmured, her voice calming his nerves.

Timur's skilled hands worked swiftly, cleansing the wound with antiseptic and carefully stitching it up. Josh's jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth to suppress the pain, his fingers digging into the couch cushions.

"Almost done," Timur assured, his touch gentle despite the task.

As Timur focused on treating the wound, Kristīne turned her attention to Josh's disheveled hair. She picked up the lily of the valley hair clip and gently swept his hair away from his face, revealing a mix of sweat and dirt. With delicate precision, she began to pin back his hair into a half ponytail, her fingers moving with practiced grace.

"Kristīne, you really don't have to do this," Josh said, his voice a mixture of gratitude and discomfort.

Kristīne met his gaze with a soft smile. "It's the least I can do, Josh. You protected our family tonight."

The hair clip secured his hair, and the transformation was as physical as it was symbolic. Josh felt a strange sense of comfort wash over him, a sense of belonging he hadn't realized he was craving. As Timur finished stitching the wound and applying a clean bandage, Josh finally sighed in relief.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Timur gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Josh. Just take it easy for a while."

With the immediate danger and pain dealt with, the trio settled into the dimly lit room. Kristīne lit a few more candles, casting a warm glow that reflected their bond. They sat in companionable silence, the only sounds being the crackling of the candles and the soft hum of a familiar song playing in the background until the lights of a military truck illuminated the living room. Josh looked up and gave a nod. "There they are. Thank you again, Timur, Kristīne." He said calmly as he got up, rubbing his arm slightly, hissing in pain. Kristīne nodded calmly. "Of course. Keep the clip, too; your hair's getting longer than mine, so you need it more than I do." She chuckled softly with a smile as Josh grabbed the unconscious, tied-up body of the proxy. "Thank you, Kristīne."