His Immortal | Marcus Pike

33

A week later, Marcus was out of the hospital. I helped him to his apartment and opened the door before I led him to the couch. His wounded shoulder was still tender and painful, but he was relieved to be out of the hospital finally. He grunted softly as I guided him to the couch and gently eased him onto the cushions. "Thanks," he mumbled gruffly as he settled into the sofa. "Glad to be out of that place."

I sat down beside him, a mix of concern and care etched on my face. Despite his gruff demeanour, I knew how much discomfort he was in and I hated seeing him in pain. I reached over to gently touch his shoulder, my fingers lightly tracing the area around his wound.

Marcus flinched slightly at the touch of my fingers against his injured shoulder. The wound was tender and sensitive, and my touch, while gentle, still sent a small bolt of pain through his body. Despite this, he didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a soft sigh and leaned into my touch.

I continued to gently touch his shoulder, my fingertips lightly caressing the area surrounding the wound. I knew he was in pain, but I also knew that he welcomed my comfort and affection. Marcus watched me silently, his expression a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. Being wounded and dependent on someone else was new to him and he found himself leaning more into my touch, seeking solace from the physical and emotional turmoil he was experiencing.

"Do you want me to make you some food?" I asked him softly.

Marcus shook his head slightly, his gaze focused on me. "No, I'm fine," he muttered, his voice gruff but gentle. However, his stomach betrayed his statement with a soft rumble. He quickly shut his mouth, but it was too late, I had already heard the grumble.

I suppressed a small grin at the sound of his stomach betraying his statement. I could see the slight flush creeping up his neck as he realized he had unconsciously contradicted himself. "It's alright," I said gently, my tone playful. "I know your body needs something, even if your mouth won't admit it."

Marcus grunted his expression a mixture of irritation and amusement. He knew I had him cornered and he couldn't deny the truth in my words. "Fine," he mumbled reluctantly. "But something light, okay? I'm not in the mood for anything too heavy or greasy."

"How about cheese and crackers?" I looked at him.

Marcus considered my proposal for a moment, his expression softening. Cheese and crackers sounded uncomplicated and easy to digest, just what he needed right now. He nodded slightly, his gruff voice laced with a hint of gratitude. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks."

"Okie dokie, you stay there," I said gently. Marcus watched as I got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. He leaned back against the cushions, his gaze following my every move. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at how much I was tending to him. He wasn't used to being so dependent on someone else, but at the same time, he silently appreciated the care and concern I was showing him.

I went to the kitchen and quickly prepared a plate of cheese and crackers, ensuring they were bite-sized and easy for him to manage. I also grabbed a bottle of water before returning to the living room.

Marcus was still sitting on the couch, his expression a mix of discomfort and anticipation. He watched as I approached him, his gaze silently expressing his gratitude for my care and consideration.

I handed him the plate of cheese and crackers, the bottle of water tucked under my other arm. Marcus took the plate, his movements careful and slow due to his injured shoulder. "Thanks," he mumbled gruffly, his voice gruff but sincere. He looked at the plate, his gaze flickering from the food to my face.

I noticed the flicker in his gaze, the silent question in them. I knew he was silently asking if I was going to stay with him while he ate. I nodded slightly, understanding his unspoken request and resumed my seat beside him on the couch.

Marcus began to nibble on the cheese and crackers, his movements cautious to avoid aggravating his shoulder. Each bite was accompanied by a soft sigh of relief and satisfaction. Despite his initial reluctance to admit he needed food, he couldn't deny the comfort and nourishment it provided to his hungry stomach.

The two of us sat silently together, the occasional crunch of cheese and crackers the only sound between us. As Marcus munched on the cheese and crackers, he snuck glances at me every now and then. My presence silently reassured him and he found himself relaxing slightly into the couch cushions. He realized then that my care extended beyond just providing necessities; it provided him with a sense of comfort and tranquillity that he hadn't anticipated.

The more he ate, the more he felt his body and mind relaxing. The cheese and crackers provided a light and easy snack that his stomach agreed with and the presence of my company made him feel less alone in his pain and discomfort. He finished the last of the cheese and crackers, setting the plate aside and reaching for the bottle of water I had brought him.

He uncapped the bottle and took a few sips, the cool liquid soothing his throat and further calming his body. As he lowered the bottle, he turned to look at me, his gaze holding a silent appreciation for my thoughtfulness. "Thanks," he said again, his voice gruff but slightly less guarded than before.

I smiled at his response, the genuine gratitude in his voice not escape me. I reached over to place my hand on his good shoulder, gently squeezing it. "You're welcome," I replied softly, my eyes meeting his. "Just trying to take care of you, you know."

Marcus's gaze softened at my touch and words. He held my gaze, his expression a mix of vulnerability and affection. The fact that I was so willing to care for him, even in his wounded and weakened state, stirred something deep within him. "I know," he mumbled gruffly, his voice filled with a hint of gratefulness he was unaccustomed to expressing.