「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(165) Farewell

Lynn's POV

Despite Charles' gracious endorsement for my departure, it was temporarily not permitted by my current condition that continued to relentlessly confine me to a bed and definitely not sanctioned by Charles upon discovering the true severity of my injury. Although my desperately needed retreat from the mansion had been helplessly delayed, it doubtlessly gave the others more time to adjust to the abrupt news.

Respecting my persistent preference to avoid guests, Storm and Scott continued to make great efforts in entertaining the eager children. Preventing them from flocking down here to disrupt my recuperation, they additionally answered all the inquisitive queries from the caring kids with regards to my insistent leaving in an ambiguous yet honest fashion according to my instruction.

Apart from diligently delivering my specially designed high calcium diet, Jean meticulously administered the direly required medication to curb the occasional but irritating and harmful reflexive contractions that surprisingly plagued my crippled limb with increasing frequencies and escalating intensities throughout its healthy healing process.

Furthermore, whenever she was not tending to Jubilee who was still ensnared in a coma next door, Jean imposed a stringent exercise regime on me in order to strengthen my core and regain my abs, further piling up my ward with a stack of my favourite novels in her endless attempts to lift my mood.

Unfortunately, nothing excited me more than the photos of my prospective abode in the western province of Canada Jean offered only in hope to initiate a dissuasive discussion that was forthrightly terminated as soon as it was mentioned.

Otherwise, the sophisticated literatures functioned moderately to keep me mentally active but it had not the power to distract my mind from the depressing thoughts wandering within since that disastrous mission.

Moreover, it was obvious that my recent accident and self-infliction had created excessive worry within Charles. His ceaseless anxiety and extreme disorientation seemingly churned inside of me, evoking my own fret for his wellbeing.

This vicious cycle exhausted us both, but we remained mostly victims to insomnia.

While the relatively serious fracture in my thigh acted as a legitimate excuse to mandate my residence in the basement ICU, conveniently providing me some respite from Charles' presence, it did not really promote my ability to sleep. Typically, I spent the day tiring myself out with massive readings and rigorous physiotherapy but they only sufficed to help me doze off intermittently.

Similarly, Charles had been busied by classes that he now had to personally cover for our missing persons and buried himself in the nearly unlimited administrative matters of our academy but despite his overworked state, voluntary slumber eluded him.

Each torturous night would pass as I laid motionlessly in the dark and calm surroundings with my eyes deliberately shut and only if I was lucky, the pretense would materialize into proper rest. Deep into his wakeful night, Charles would secretly enter my underground chamber and the serenity of my sanctuary surely announced his daily entrance like the queen's parade, with the soft hum of his chair standing out remarkably from the silent atmosphere in spite of his considerate discreetness.

Every night without fail, he would arrive at my bedside but his fatigue inarguably diminished his competence to distinguish that I was actually conscious when he held my hand.

It was outrageous how the mild intimacy emphasized my inferiority complex that was only further amplified by his heartbreaking utterance of profuse apologies for being the root of my sufferings and showers of generous encouragements benevolently aimed at stimulating my emotional recovery.