ROSALIE
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"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
DESPITE the tiredness and the pain, I managed to fall asleep sitting up, while I made sure with my hand that his pulse was not going to drop.
Sometimes it was a sensation that gave me comfort; I often found myself relaxing while listening to the heartbeats, I don't know where this fixation came from. But Ghost's in particular relaxed me even more. It was strong and stable under my fingers, I wouldn't have dared to discover it by resting my head on his chest. That would've been beyond the limit.
For fuck's sake, Rosalie. He was married and he was bringing along the proof of his marriage.
My head rested on the side of the couch, every now and then I made sure he was covered by the two jackets I had placed over him like blankets. As night fell, it was starting to get cold both outside and inside, so with no alternative, I took off my jacket and used it as a blanket for him.
His skin was warm, almost hot, but he didn't seem to be in any pain as he was still under the effects of the anesthetist, so at least he would be relaxed and asleep.
I had hoped that this time too I would've slept a little in peace, that my strange dreams had not reached me this far, but I was wrong. Because once again my body was pulled into a deep abyss, where my nightmares and dreams would've been unleashed with my mind.
"Does it hurt?" That voice had asked me, sounding so distant from me.
"A little, it's nothing too important." But that little presence didn't care about my answer. A hand caressed my forehead, a thumb brushed against the scar I had on my head, "It makes you special." It commented.
"Special?"
"Rosalie, does it hurt?"
"What?"
"Does it hurt?"
What should be hurting me?
I winced as a pain started in my abdomen, spreading to the surrounding areas. I was sweating cold, my body felt tingly and my torso felt so rusty. "Rosalie.." A deep voice rumbled from my side, and slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, meeting a couple of brown irises.
He was awake, though a little drugged. He watched me with concern as he grazed my exposed belly with one hand, and without even realizing it, he had lifted my shirt to reveal the large hematoma on my abdomen. Source of my aches.
Silence fell, I was still in a state of confusion and trying to understand what I had just dreamed. I hadn't yet had a dream in the present, especially of a presence that asked me about the scar. "Yeah?"
"I asked, does it hurt?"
Looking down at the bruise, I huffed a little. "Mhm. Don't worry, I will take care of it." I simply muttered and brushed away the subject, turning to look at the stitches on his thigh.
"How are you doing?"
I asked him, moving the bandages aside to look. I took some disinfectant from the kit and poured some on a piece of cloth, before cleaning around the wound. He didn't move, he just watched me from behind the mask in silence, every now and then he contracted the muscles of his thigh from some pain. "Thank you."
"You don't need to."
The words came out in a murmur, then I looked up and met his gaze. He looked thoughtful, his hands clenching and then relaxing by his sides. He slowly sat up on the couch and tried to make room on one side, "You need to rest. Come on, lie down."
It was a nice little gesture, but I wouldn't have accepted it. He needed to recover, and besides, there wasn't any way that two of us could fit on that couch--he was too big.
I was about to refuse, I parted my lips but only a startled gasp came out. He wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled me onto the couch, not even trying too hard.
He was so strong that he could throw me anywhere without any effort.
I found myself lying on my side, my back pressing against his warm chest. "Don't force yourself, your stitches might open!" I scolded him, but he didn't care and wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping me close to him and cozy under the jackets I had put on him as blankets.
"I don't care."He whispered in my ear, his hot breath caressing my cold skin, sending shivers through my body.
This man.
For a moment I let myself be lulled by the warmth, but a blow to my heart made me anxious and I sat up immediately, making him glance at with curiosity. What the hell did he think he was doing?
He was a married man, Rosalie. I keep forgetting that.
But how dare he take such confidences with a colleague of his? All the while he had a woman at home waiting for him?
His arm went around my waist and he dragged me down again, this time my head rested on his chest, and I could hear his strong heartbeat. "You're doing your wife so dirty." I told him with a quiet murmur, his arms enveloping my body completely. His chest vibrated slightly, a small laugh rumbling from his chest at my words.
He didn't answer my words, he left me one of his many mysteries, while he held me safe in his arms. The silence was comforting, there was no need for a word, at that moment there was only me and him in an abandoned place, hoping that some of our colleagues would find us soon and rescue us.
And just when we were about to fall asleep, a little voice was heard talking and shouting through one of the intercoms on the coffee table.
"Laswell to Ghost -- How copy? Do you hear me?"
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FRAGMENTS ; Simon Riley
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