La Façade des Plumes

Chapter XIV - Loose Ends

5:10 pm

The smell of the blood lingered under her nose, though the blood had been completely wiped from her face. Still, she remembered the weak, tender touch of Anna's fingers as she stared in awe at her green eyes. She also remembered the falling of her hand while the sound of her last breath was masked by the crazed alarm of the cardiac monitor.

Silently, Allison looked up at Isley's face, pausing mid-stitch. Isley stared wide-eyed at the floor, completely disregarding the pain of her inner palm. Leaning forward, Allison raised her gloved hand to Isley's face, snapping her fingers. Isley failed to flinch at the sudden return back to reality. Instead, she shifted her gaze to the concerned Allison. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. Isley rolled her eyes, faintly nodding her head. Still, Allison kept her focus on her face as sadness arose, staring at the deep, defining features of her cheekbones, "How's sobriety going?" Isley's eyes trailed off to the other side of the room, "Peachy," she mumbled.

Sighing, exhaustingly, Allison rolled her stool back, peeling the gloves from her hands. "What're you doing? You didn't finish?" Isley asked, confused. Tossing the gloves in the trash, Allison ran her hand through her loosely tied-back blonde hair, "Listen, I'm not gonna finish your stitches unless you start talking."

"How do you know I won't just ask someone else to do them?"

"Because, besides Richard, I'm the only one you tolerate. Also, you hate asking for help."

Isley exhaled a long breath, slowly closing her eyes, "Okay," she agreed. Smiling, Allison rolled to the glove dispenser, grabbing a pair from the opening. "So, was it the same patient you were being weird about at lunch?" Allison asked. Isley nodded. "Yeah," she sighed.

"What's her name?" Allison asked, continuing her stitch. "Anna Law-... Alvarez," Isley corrected. "Okay...now tell me, what's so special about this one particular patient out of the thousands you've treated," Allison giggled in an attempt to lighten the mood. "She-uh...reminded me of someone from a long time ago...a relative," Isley replied slowly, feeling the painful sensation of cringe in her chest.

Allison quietly laughed at her discomfort before quickly reforming herself. Isley glared at her, making Allison shy her face away. "Sorry," Allison muttered, clearing her throat. "Anyway, why does she remind you of your relative?" Isley glanced over at her palm, however, Allison paused, looking up, waiting for an answer. Isley rolled her eyes, "Okay, listen, I can't do this. I'm not a 'venter' like you or whatever," she breathed. "Well, it's healthier than bottling it in, so, if you want this hand done in time for your little date tonight, I'd continue," Allison smiled.

Isley's brows drew together in confusion before the memory of realization hit. "Oh, God," Isley whined, letting her head drop, "Fuck, I forgot about that. I can just take a raincheck, right? I feel like my traumatizing day is a good excuse."

"Oh, my God, Isley, no, you can't! You have to go!" Allison whined. "Pero, like, why?"

"Isley, you stitched up a guy's hand and somehow you made it sexy. Never in my life have I seen sexual tension occur during stitches. Stitches!"

"Allison, it's a straight, white man who found stitches attractive. He could either be a creep or a serial killer...now that I think about it, that's the same thing..."

"Welp, you won't know until you find out. Also, big whoop for me, I finished your stitches, so, you're off the hook. But hey, maybe if your date is a creep, you can overshare to scare him off." Isley smiled, pointing her finger at her, "Y'know that's not a bad idea."

Shaking her head, Allison tossed her dirty gloves in the trash before turning back toward the tray that held the bloody materials, "Alright, go home, shower, get all nice and whatever, and go enjoy your date!" Allison pushed her toward the door, but Isley pushed against her, making her hold her dead weight. "My, GOD, I don't want to. Besides, we didn't even ask each other out. You were the one who gave him my number," Isley stated.