The Rejected Rogue

7: Medical Interrogation

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 Seven: Medical Interrogation

Well, this situation seems awfully familiar... I couldn't help but think as I woke up from whatever fainting spell I must have had.

It wasn't that I could see where I was, because I couldn't, so much as the fact that I could smell the scent of the room I was in.

It smelled of a familiarity that made my heart ache every time I took a breath of it. It was freshly fallen rain and mint that made up the unique scent that was Braxxen. The scent that was forever imprinted in my brain. The scent I'd been longing for every night when I was curled up in bed alone over the past few years.

Smelling it now made me feel oddly relaxed.

And a bit panicky.

The scent was fresh, no signs of it fading anywhere. So that meant he was somewhere close. I couldn't hear his breathing pattern anywhere in the vicinity of the room and from the way my harsh breath sounds were echoing off of the walls and ceiling, I'd say I was in the same room that I'd woken up in that first time I'd met Braxxen when I was fourteen.

Every room you walk into is structurally different. There's the layout of the room, which can be admittedly copied for another room, but then there's the objects taking up space inside of the room that either bounce or absorb any sounds.

This room smelled and sounded exactly the same as it had three years ago. And unless someone had copied the room down to the very last detail and object placed in it and somehow gotten a hold of his scent and bottled it as an air freshener-- I'd totally buy that by the gallon, by the way-- then this was my estranged soul mate's bedroom.

"I see you're awake. How are you feeling?" I jumped at the intrusion into my thoughts, even though I'd known someone was coming into the room. Heightened senses made it really hard not to notice something like that. I was always on guard and paying extra attention to my surroundings just in case something happened and I needed to defend myself.

Seeing my attacker coming in a situation like that (hypothetically, of course; no danger here... yet) wasn't possibly in the sense of using my eyes, but if I knew something was coming, it was easier for me to fight back and if I listened closely enough, I could determine how they were planning on striking and with what move. Sometimes.

And even though I'd known someone was coming in, I hadn't been expecting them to talk to me. My sightless eyes were shut tight and I was pretending to be asleep, so I don't know how they'd figured out I was awake.

Breathing patterns, most likely.

"Look, I know you're awake and I'm not planning on sticking around for forever to bother you. I just need to ask you a few questions about your health so I can determine how the injuries you received before being brought back here have or haven't affected you. And since I haven't seen you in three years and I don't know how you've been faring, you're going to have to tell me."