Klaude (Octavius Sequel)

four | scars

The kitchen has been silent since we arrived, the only sounds the sizzling of eggs on the stove and the clink of pans on metal. I haven't looked at her in minutes, but it feels like eons.

I want to rush the eggs on the stove, force the white mass to harden quicker, just so I would have an excuse to turn to her and place the warm food under her nose.

I slip the eggs onto a large white plate, along with a few pieces of buttered toast. I turn to see her staring directly at me.

"Here, be careful it's still hot." I say, placing the plate in front of her. She just stares down at the steaming plate, as if waiting for something to happen, for me to swipe it away from right under her nose.

"Pilar, it's okay, you can eat."

"What is this?" She asks softly, pointing to the food.

At first I'm slightly hurt, wondering if the food is not good enough, but then I realize.

"Have you never had eggs before?"

"Eggs..." She repeats slowly, frowning as if the word is completely foreign to her.

I don't know what to say. I wonder if she's joking but I know she isn't but she must be...

She picks up a piece of bread, and her eyes fill with recognition.

"This is toast." She whispers, and takes a small bite, letting out a slight sigh of happiness.

"Good?" I ask, politely.

She nods, her mouth full of food. I sit there for a few minutes, watching her eat, fascinated. Every bite seems like a new freedom for her, like a child grounded from chocolate taking their first bite of cocoa.

She finishes the food, and reaches a thin hand out for the glass of water in front of her, but accidentally knocking it over with a crash.

She jumps away from the table, her chair screeching behind her as she stands. I rise quickly, hurrying to make sure she doesn't step on any glass.

"Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I'll clean it." She's rambling quickly, her voice nearly unintelligible, a stream of fearful pleas.

"Pilar, why would I hurt you?" I ask softly, exhausted. With every accusation, every fearful glance she sends me, I feel my heart cracking slightly.

My own mate is afraid of me.

But a darker and angrier thought still haunts me, that my own mate is terrified of the man who cut her in half.

"Pilar, please baby, step away from the glass, you're going to hurt yourself." I beg, moving to pull her away from the million shards on the wooden floor.

She moves back, her feet barely avoiding the army of broken soldiers on the ground.

"Please, Pilar, be careful." I plead, but it's too late.

She cries out in pain, and I race to her quickly, hoisting her off the ground and into my arms. There is blood on her feet and in her palms and I want to throw my body off of the highest peak.

I carry her quickly to my room, placing her on the bed softly, racing to the bathroom to grab bandages and alcohol.

"I am fine, Klaude." She insists but I ignore her, taking her foot in my hands. Three large glass shards are in her skin, and I swallow a river of bile threatening to fill my mouth.

"Pilar, I need to take the pieces of glass out, but it will hurt." I warn her and she shuts her eyes tightly.

She gives a little squeak with each shard of glass, the clear material covered in crimson.