「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(277) Go to Sleep

Lynn's POV

Everything blacked out for what felt like a second before I regained precious sight of Charles and woke to his frantic voice, perseveringly beckoning for me.

"Lynn," Charles sputtered gently as my eyes successfully fluttered open and the white haze clarified into his furrowed features.

"I'm sorry..." I mumbled shakily, tears apparently still flowing even after that faint experience.

"You really shouldn't be doing this, Lynn," Charles dissuaded, gazing at me with utmost sincerity.

"I won't be at rest anyway. Just help me get cleaned, will you?" I urged pleadingly and he sighed, conceding.

"Can you manage this?" Charles sought worriedly as he laid me back against the mirror.

Normally, even in moderately reclined sitting positions, a certain amount of balance was required. Without absolutely any use of our legs, the exertion of our trunk muscles was necessitated to maintain our bodies upright but the pleasant angle at which Charles had placed me demanded minimal strength that I could actually relax.

Nodding feebly, I leaned on my right side as Charles cranked up the bathroom's heating and shut off all its ventilation pathways. As the highly unwanted suction drafts and cool air were roughly eliminated from the enclosed space, Charles ran the tub with luscious warm water before proceeding to undress me.

Slowly, he lifted my bum off the vanity top and eased my tapered pants off my unfeeling legs just dangling limply off the edge. Chucking the soiled clothing aside, Charles worked cautiously to unbuckle my sling and stripped off my tank top around my bundled joint.

There was not much fabric and he was careful for the most part but even the slightest movement to my mangled wrist was notoriously infamous to jar my whole arm. Although my brace was plastic, possessing the convenience of removal and bearing no bandages that obligated an abstinence from water, Charles was apprehensive to unclasp it for fear of aggravating my injuries.

Testing the water, Charles prudently lowered me into the luxuriously tepid surroundings and propped my swollen arm onto our usual shower chair as he diligently bathed me.

The flowery aroma of herbal oils present as essence in the soap and the gratifying massage Charles was generously pampering me with coupled impeccably to create the ultimate soothing environment that almost spontaneously lulled me to sleep.

Everything was slumberous and drowsy, yet in a good manner. Initially, I was still conscious enough to nod and smile to Charles, greatly diminishing his worries, but soon, all was blurry and the last thing I remembered was grinning into his reflection.

From what was originally pure, deep, respite emerged the repulsive scenes that came back haunting. Images of the dark chamber flashed intimidatingly through my mind and I sprung my eyes wide, panting heavily as I stared shakily at the ceiling flared by moonlight.

I tried to breathe normally, only to have my sniffles crisply slice the silent night. Nervously, I skimmed our room, noticing countless bottles of medication on his nightstand and my wounded arm, mildly throbbing, supported neatly atop a stack of plush cushions.

Charles was sprawled beside me, hands wrapped loosely around my frame as he surrendered to his enormous fatigue. Despite my dramatic awakening, he napped, undisrupted, a work of that tremendous exhaustion, but I could not be more glad that he was receiving due rest, rather than being terribly appalled by my anxiety-ridden expression once again.