Come To The Light

The Soldier

I wake up next to Alaric, holding my hand and sitting up in the medical bed. I rub my eyes as he smiles down at me. "You're finally up."

A nurse enters the room, knocking on the door before coming in. "Goodmorning, I hope you two slept okay. It seems that Alaric taking your blood and resting overnight helped, but he should take it easy for a few more days." She walked over to a desk, setting down a clipboard with notes of Alaric's monitored well-being.

She exits, and Alaric reaches out his hand for the notes. I pass it over, and he looks at it for a moment. "Well, I don't need rest if my bones are fine now." He hands it back to me, and I look down at the markings. I can't tell what it says, but I'm assuming he still needs rest if the nurse said so anyways.

"You will get rest." I turn back to him, and he scoffs at me quietly. "The nurse said so. Today is just gonna be us chilling in the garden and... reading. We can read." Why did I even suggest that? I can't read at all, and his books are complex too.

Alaric perks up at the suggestion and faintly smiles, he still looks tired too. "Chilling in the garden and reading sounds nice." He nods and starts to rise from the bed. I quickly shuffle over to get closer to him, just in case he needs my help.

He looks over at me as my hand rests on his lower back, he looks a bit confused but says nothing. He gets up, seemingly hiding his wincing even though it's not really hidden, leaning on the table next to us. He places a hand on his cheek, and then pushes my hand away slowly before holding it. "We can go to our room and get some books first, then head to the garden, alright?" He starts leading me out as he says this, and I stumble at first. I think I'm hungover.

He looks back for a moment as I catch up, and he holds my arm. "Felix, are you okay?" He stops, holding me seemingly afraid I'll fall. I nod, raising up a shaky thumbs-up. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously, but continues taking me on to our room.

I finally look closely at the books all stacked up on the shelves Alaric has lining the room. Some are extremely thick, almost wider than my fist but it makes sense since he's seemingly immortal. I wonder how he's passed the time for this long.

He pulls a few, putting them into a picnic basket. I look inside, then back at him, "You wanna get some snacks too? It'd be pretty good."

"Of course, we can get some stuff from a cafe near the garden. They have good pastries, I'll surprise you." He smiles at me, elbowing me lightly. "I know the best of the best after all."

"That'd be great." I pick up the basket of books, stumbling again before turning towards Alaric. He has back turned to another shelf, and he didn't seem to notice. I lost my tolerance after all this time.

Alaric turns to me finally, dropping a couple more books and a blanket into the basket and grabbing my arm again. "Well?"

I nod, smiling down at him. He's so perfect even when he's hurt, he's still so sweet and caring despite everything that's happened. He guides me out of our room and to the kitchen, he looks so excited; is he ignoring the pain?

He makes me turn away once we get inside and I cover my eyes as he orders the treats we can eat, giggling a bit. "Alright, keep your eyes closed but put out your hands." I slowly put them out, and he places a pouch into my hands. I open my eyes to a fancy little container, containing a slice of flan and another of chocoflan. "See, I can't eat chocolate so I got myself the flan slice." He pointed at each slice. "The chocoflan is for you."

I look down at the flan for a moment, then look back at him, snorting. "Choco... flahn? You are so bad at pronouncing it."

He rolls his eyes and huffs out, "I speak French, not... whatever that language is. What is it?"

I punch him lightly on the shoulder, which comes out more as a light fist pressing onto his side. "Spanish. It's not that hard." He pushes my fist away and then holds it in his hand to guide me out of the kitchen and to the garden. It's relatively empty given the time of day.

He takes the basket and sets the blanket down onto a nice small patch of grass that is surrounded by flowers. It's our little spot of calmness in this world, a retreat from all of our stress.

He sits down, holding out a hand to me, and I take it as he brings me down, passing a book to me. It remains in my hands as I look over to him, and he opens the book, adjusting his glasses so he can read the marking on it all.

"You got an old poetry book I was given. The Flowers Of Evil by Charles Baudelaire." He leans over to my book, then raises his head again. "Do you like poetry?" He raised his eyebrow a bit curiously, his ear twitching.

I feel a lump form in my throat, and I can't force it back down. I stare down at the book, before quietly saying, "I don't really like words in general." I put it down, sitting criss-cross as I look away from him. "I can't read Alaric."

I look back to him, and he frowns a bit. "You... can't read?"

I nod, looking away again in shame. "I can read better in Spanish, but I can't read well in both Spanish or English." I look back at him. "I wasn't given an education, only my big sister since I was..." I pick the book up again, clenching it in my hands furiously. "I was just an oaf."

Alaric places a hand, softly grazing my wrist with the tips of my fingers before pulling my hand away from the book and into his own. "You're not an oaf. You are caring, kind, and amazing." He thinks for a moment before starting again. "I'll teach you to read if you want."

I smile at him, holding his hand still. I look down at the book, then his eyes. His beautiful, emerald-like eyes. They shine up at me, reflecting my face back at them. My true reflection, given from him to me, and not a murky one that most have given me.

I nod, smiling at him. "I'd appreciate it, but just know I'm a slow learner."

"And I'm the best teacher." He sings it back at me in a whimsical tone, smirking a bit. "You'll learn fast, don't worry. Maybe you can teach me some Spanish in return."

"You wish!" I laugh at the thought of him attempting to speak Spanish with only an English accent. I pull him down slowly, as we both lie surrounded by flowers of all sorts, holding hands. For a moment, I forget he's not really my boyfriend, but I look over to him as he stares at the sky, and something inside me wants nothing more than to kiss him.

This man I've only known for a week is the most wonderful experience I've been given.