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Later that night
Hours by her bedside, felt like minutes to him, his mind forgetting time to seemingly revive the girl who had come to his doorstep in the poorest conditions.
The man tended to the girl's cut knees, he noticed a small oval-shaped bruised on her left upper thigh.
It didn't have the same colouration of a fresh bruise against her skin, it looked old and scarred.
The fire raged destructively, warming the house instantly, almost too much.
He ignored the crackling of wood, and the thundering rain upon the stone roof. His focus was directed to the short puffs of air from the girl, she seemed in dire need of constant medical attention; which he could thankfully provide.
Sweat ladened her forehead, and the way her body convulsed made him worry that she would ever wake.
He traveled to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth and a mug of warm water which he had cautiously mixed some pain killers into.
The cool cloth lying over her head seemed to have a positive effect, as her breathing slowed and her eyes shot open.
The girl pushed the blanket off her frame and tilted her head into her palms coughing harshly for a couple seconds, the fit seised rapidly.
The man watched her inquisitively, trying to figure out exactly what had happened to her.
He held the mug out to her expectantly, she turned her head away from him - stubbornly.
"Drink it." The man spoke strictly.
"I can't, I'll throw it up." She spoke her soft voice crackly and nervous.
"You won't, you need to drink something."
"I can't."
"Stop being stubborn, drink Evangeline."
Hearing her name slip past the man's lips made her insides flutter as if a flock of little butterflies had been excited within the pit of her stomach.
Her bottom lip quivered, she took the mug from his hands; their fingers barely grazing was enough to make her knees quake.
Evangeline downed the water in one gulp realising how much she needed it, almost immediately feeling better afterwards.
Her body ached indeterminately, she stood shakily and began to shuffle forwards.
