Dralan [On Hold]

Twenty-Eight

Bhria

It was all her fault.

For hours and hours, that single fact was the only thing she could about. Now, as the dust finally settled, she felt all of it crashing down on her as if the sky was raining rocks.

Callath was out cold because of her. The Mihrisa nearly died because she didn't speak up and now she was probably going to get punished because she ruined the beach walk. The Dralan had looked furiously at her. As if telling her with his eyes, her punishment was coming to her.

Bhria silently shivered and held back the tears that pressed in the corners of her eyes.

He should be mad at her. Perhaps that was why he had told her not to come near his Mihrisa; She nearly killed the two people he cared for most in the world. Both of them were now unconscious and resting.

Bhria carefully glanced up and towards the bed she had been sitting next to for about three hours now. She couldn't get herself to move, even though she knew she didn't want him finding her there when he woke up. But she just couldn't leave his side.

On the bed, with his eyes closed and his dark-blond hair resting against his pillow, Callath laid unconsciously, his chest steadily moving up and down with each breath he took. He hadn't woken up yet, only stirred and creased his brows, mumbling some incoherent words Bhria couldn't make out. Then he had fallen back into unconsciousness and remained still.

The Kischmir that had been in here before her had taken off his shirt and washed his body from sand, after he collapsed on the beach. His strong, naked chest expanded with each breath he took, the ripples and indents of his torso shifting to the movement. The sight made Bhria blush, which was why she had only glanced at him four or five times since she got here, to make sure he was okay.

She looked away now and cupped her face in her hands. The tears in her eyes threatened to spill, but she held them in. Seeing him like this, knowing she caused this, made every bone in her body crumble and shake. Her chest hurt and her throat knotted, and no matter what she did, the heavy guilt wouldn't go away. If she had only spoken up sooner, all of this could've been prevented. But she didn't. Why didn't she?

Suddenly there came a groan from the bed. Bhria instantly flipped her eyes up and saw Callath stirring, shifting his head as if trying to find something - perhaps his sight.

Bhria gasped and quickly got up from her chair, making ready to leave so he wouldn't find her there, but at the sound of her gasp leaving her lips, his eyes flipped open and landed on her. Bhria froze up.

"Bhria?" He rasped. He squinted his eyes as if the afternoon light blinded his sensitive eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I..." Bhria stuttered and tried to swallow when her throat sounded as dry as his. "I was just l-leaving. I'll go fetch you someone else--"

"No," He cut in, his voice still hoarse but holding firmness in it. "I don't want anyone else. You stay."

Bhria's lungs still wasn't working. She couldn't move, couldn't even look at him. Her body was completely rigid as she heard him shift a little on the bed again, sitting up.

"Come here. Sit down next to me."

Almost by old habit, her legs moved on their own accord to the command, turned and found themselves moving her to the edge of his bed, where they then bent and carefully sat down on the very edge. Bhria felt Callath sit up again a little more, but she couldn't get her eyes to look at him. She didn't dare to.