Nympha Postmortem

24: Routine.

Sometimes, routine is the only thing that keeps you alive.

At least that is what Maia told herself whenever she felt a tingle in her chest each morning, when Rex came passing through the curtains, at the entrance of her tent, with a bowl of water and fresh aids for her wound.

"And how are you feeling today?" he would ask her, as he kneeled next to where she laid down, and his scent tainted her senses. "I am going to aid your wound now," he continued, carefully looking over at her, as if for a confirmation of some sort.

Maia felt like a fortnight passed since she tried to take her own life, maybe two. Yet, strangely enough, that wasn't on her mind as much as she suspected it would be, in spite of the voices still being there.

"I am going to help freshen you up now," he told her, as she felt his warm palm cupping her arm, the wet and cold rag dragging down her skin. "I saw a herd of deer this morning, as I fetched the water," Rex added, almost as if he felt the silence would make things more awkward than his tense heart beats. "There was a great deal of them, I even saw two white ones," he said, lowering his gaze, dipping the rag back into the bowl, but suddenly jolting as he felt her hand reaching out to him.

Maia, brushed her fingers through his pale locks, and felt her lips stretching into a smile as they locked eyes. Her cheeks flushed pink, and for a second, she thought Rex could read her mind.

"No, no," he responded, as if knowing what she was about to say, "Not as white as this..." his hoarse voice trembled.

Rex tightened his fingers around the rag, as he felt his blood pulsing uneasily. But he promised to ignore whatever that was.

"I reckon they could have been Vesperian..."

Maia, pulled her hand away, and placed it onto her throat, a weak undistinguishable mumble slipping through her lips.

Rex's suddenly twitched at the sound, and he looked her way.

"Is it hurting again?" he asked, his eyebrows lowered in an expression of uneasiness. "Should I call Annia?"

Maia, placed a hand on his arm, shaking her head slowly.

She didn't want Annia to be there, not now.

Routine is what kept her alive, she told herself. Rex's morning visits. Rex's gentle care. The way his ears would turn red every single time when he touched her skin. The moments he leaned silently against the wall, just being in her presence. His scent. His eyes. His touch.

Routine. The Moon raised with him, and he continued to be there in her dreams as well.

Routine is what kept her alive.

It reminded her of exam periods in college, when she laid awake, anxiously awaiting through the night for a grade to be posted. How she would keep checking the website, refreshing the window, in hopes to see it. And then...Ecstasy. A dopamine release as she saw the grades being up.

Much in the same way, she found herself waking up earlier, waiting for Rex to pass through the entrance with the water bowl in his hand. Sometimes, she didn't even sleep until she saw him.

Routine made her heart ache in a peculiar manner.