The fluorescent lights burnt my retinas as I came to myself. Everything was pristine and smelled of strong disinfectant. There was a pounding in my head and an ache in my back. There was a taste of ash in my mouth that I couldn't explain, and Mathias... where was Mathias?
I sat myself up to find myself in a hospital bed and a dreary private room with two doors and a window. One door led to that corridor and hospital wing beyond, the other was a bathroom. Cautiously I got out of the bed, unaware of why I was even in the hospital, and went into the bathroom. There was hospital issue 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner, and a blue towel. I tilted my head slightly and sniffed at my shoulder. The smell made me cringe.
I must have been in there all of 15 minutes before I heard panicked shouting from the room beyond. It was Mathias, frantically bellowing my name. I washed off the remaining soap suds and turned the water off. I wrapped the old, tired towel around myself and left the bathroom.
"Good god, Mathias! Can't a girl have shower in peace?" He didn't say a word, he just launched himself at me and threw his arms around me. "What the hell?!" I used all the strength I could muster to push him off me. Much like shaking hands, I saw little use in hugs except to show affection to family. Mathias wasn't family, he wasn't even really a friend; he was my protector, my employee, if you would.
"Nothing changes with you, does it, Little Red?" I smiled, ever so slightly confused. He was never normally so emotional. Yet there, in his deep chestnut eyes, was something I'd never see before; genuine fear for me, genuine concern and love.
"Mathias, what's going on? Why are you suddenly so concerned? And also, why am I in a hospital room?"
"You don't remember?" I shook my head slowly. "Not any of it?" I shook my head again. I saw then, the pain on his flawless face.
The expression of hurt was gone almost as soon as it had arrived. His smile returned and he handed my a rucksack.
"Get dressed, Little Red, we're going home."
Home was, well, home.
The kitchen sink was filled with pots and pans, takeout cartons littered every worktop, and the wash basket in the corner overflowed onto the laminate flooring. Mathias's open bedroom door revealed an unkept bed, more clothes strewn across the floor and more empty takeout cartons.
The small straight back piano still stood between my bedroom door and the bathroom's, the lid open, revealing glisteningly clean keys, that looked like black diamonds on freshly fallen snow. That piano was Mathias's pride and joy, his life support when he wanted to face death.
I opened the door to my room and everything was just as I'd left it. The bed was unmade, and the curtains were drawn. My much loved, half read, dog eared, first edition Jane Eyre, still sat on the bedside table, beside the lamp.
This room, this flat, had been my safe place for almost two years, and all of a sudden, it felt like the least safe place in the world.
"Mathias, we have to move." I didn't turn to look at him, I couldn't bring myself to; he looked exhausted already, I didn't need to see it increased with my own eyes. I heard him sigh, but still remained looking into my room.
"Nina, I've just got you your bookshop back, we have a life here." He was right. I had a job, friends, and sure, Mathias liked to keep company with many different women, but he had a career, friends beyond my companionship.
"Please, Mathias, it not safe here."
"For who, Nina?!" I turned then, the sound of anger in his voice triggering something inside me. His face was red and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. "You, or the man who doesn't even remember you?!"
