Love Me Tender (On Hold)

Caught

Roberto, the deck hand, was waiting patiently for our return. He helped me up first, "Go and clean up, dinner will be done soon. Thirty minutes and don't be late." I bolted around the deck. I hadn't noticed the time, and I was indeed very hungry. I ran down the next hall, then a flight of stairs, jumping down the last four steps. I almost slammed into Kaitlyn. "Whoa, now you don't go running around like no animal, do you hear me?" But I just laughed and ran down the hall. I paused just inside the kitchen door and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm...."

Gerard was too busy slicing strawberries to notice me. I reached up, and tapped him on the back, he swung around and I ducked, turning faster to grab a handful. "Hey those are for dessert!" We both laughed as I ran to the next hallway. I tossed one in my mouth. The strawberries were extra sweet. I wouldn't mind skipping dinner and going straight to dessert. I rounded the next corner, heading for the huge bathroom at the end. I stopped. The man was there, his back to the open door. He wore a clean pair of board shorts, no doubt borrowed from Roberto's laundry. He stood, like a statue, his fingers gripping the top of the counter. Water was dripping down his back, he must have just gotten out of the shower. I turned slightly, so he couldn't see me in the mirror.

He reached up and touched his face, then the mirror. He choked, an awful gagging sound. Was he crying? I looked at his reflection closer, no, his eyes were dry, but his face.... He looked tortured. His hair was a tangled mess, and the wiry scruff on his face made him look like some backwoods hunter. He hung his head. I suddenly felt awful. This man had probably been there for a while, judging from the growth of hair on his face, six months? Maybe eight?

He still wasn't moving so I took one hesitant step towards him. He was breathing deeply through his nose, his eyes closed. He just looked so helpless. I took a few more steps. As I got closer I could see some small scars on his back, his arms. He also had a wide gouge in his shoulder and a deep scratch on his side, and they were bleeding slowly. I thought back to our tumble to the ground. I waited, thinking the adrenaline rush was keeping me from feeling my own wounds, but I felt none. Great, more guilt.

I knew his cuts needed to be cleaned properly, and me being the resident fix-er-upper, it was going to end up my job anyways. I smiled, Paulo would probably love the chance to duct tape this guy up, just so he couldn't bother anyone. I straightened my features and coughed into my hand.

The man turned and looked at me. I froze. His face was completely blank, no anger, nothing. But his eyes? He had beautiful deep blue eyes. And they were sadder than any eyes I had ever seen. "Um, are you, are you finished here?" I pointed around the room. His eyes watched my hands, then stared at them. I frowned. I looked down at my hand, my fingers still curled around the hand full of strawberries I had stolen from Gerard. I took one tentative step forward, I was now within reaching distance of the man. I held out my hand, palm up. "Here, take them."

He looked at me, then back at the strawberries. He reached up slowly, which seemed to take a lot of effort, and took just one. He popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly, his eyes closed.

I stepped to the side, laying the other strawberries next to the sink, and got my medical supplies out of a drawer. I turned and saw him watching me warily. He picked up just one more berry, and ate it, not quite as slowly as the first.

I realized I really shouldn't be alone in a room with this man, a man I didn't know, but I honestly did not fear him. He had seemed so fragile before, and I couldn't shake that. To look at him now, he was obviously not fragile. He was thin, to be sure, but he was well muscled. He probably had to swim a lot, to catch fish, and climb to reach the fruit in the islands trees. No, he was not frail, not breakable, but still no threat to me. I took out some tape and scissors, then the cleaning solution. "What are you doing?" I jumped when he spoke.

His voice was amazingly pleasant , so much nicer sounding than before. "You have some wounds, there on your back," I pointed, "I have to get them cleaned before they get infected. He frowned at me, "Isn't there someone else who could do it?"

Oh no, not the gender card. "Look buddy, it's either me or the guy with the giant knives in the kitchen, and he's busy." He tilted his head, a strange look flickering over his face. "If you have to..." He stood, facing the sink again, the last of the strawberries going into his mouth.

I took a swab and poured some solution on it. Then carefully dabbed at the cuts on his back. He made no sound, but his fingers curled around the edge of the granite counter top. I dabbed again, this time at the largest of the wounds, the one on his shoulder, he winced slightly, pulling his shoulders forward in a hunch. "Sorry." I glanced at his reflection, his mouth was frozen in a hard line, his eyes were closed.

I studied him, his hair, obviously a disaster, was a nice red-brown. His skin was peachy, not tan, which was a surprise seeing as how he'd been on an island. I looked back at his reflection, his features were square, severe, even with the hair covering his face. His eyes opened and he caught me staring. I dropped my eyes back to his cuts. I lifted up one hand and placed it on his arm, trying to move it out of the way so I could tend to the deep cut on his side. He jerked awkwardly. He turned to look down at me, I had leaned down to take a closer look at his side, "What are you doing?" He actually sounded angry.

"Well, I think you need some stitches here," I pointed to his side. "NO, I don't." His tone made my skin burn. "Yes, you DO." He turned and glared at me. "Are you a doctor?" Actually, I had taken three years of medical school. Kaitlyn, our maid, had broken a dish and cut herself and it had taken hours to get her somewhere for stitches. My only due coarse was to study, so why not study medicine for a while? "I can stitch you up and you won't even have a scar, so stop being such a baby." There, I'd said my peace and it was good enough for me.

I reached for his arm again, but he swung it out of the way. I looked up to scowl at him but he was just holding his arm up, staring passively into the mirror. Oh, okay, so he didn't want me to touch him? Too bad, I was going to have to touch him to put the stitches in.

I cleaned the wound the rest of the way, then got some tape and gauze to put over the one wound on his shoulder. I only pressed on the tape, careful not to be to rough. Then I poured some sanitizer over my equipment. I took a small swab and glopped some cleaner around the cut on his side.

He flinched when I picked up the tiny needle and thread. "Do you need to take some pain killers?" He just closed his eyes and shook his head no. I placed my hand around the cut and he flinched again. I knew it must be difficult to hold still knowing I was about to stab him with a needle, but he didn't need to act like I was killing him. Yet. I worked quickly, only using four quick stitches. I looked up at him and his face was blank. I rubbed more cleaner across the cut, as softy as possible. Then I cut a square out of the gauze and pressed it gently onto his skin. He reached down and held it in place while I taped.

I turned away, tossing everything into the garbage and putting the medical supplies away. When I turned around again he was staring at me. He was looking at me strangely, his eyes moving over my arms, my dress, my legs. I looked down and blushed.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" His question caught me off guard. I looked at myself. Sure, I had been in better shape. My hair was a tangled mess, and I was covered in dirt and sand. The shoulder of my dress was torn, as was the hem. I frowned.

"Are you hurt?!" He actually sounded alarmed. "Oh, no, no I'm fine. I'm fine really." But his face did not change. "This is just the only thing I really have to wear, and I don't have anything to sew it back up with." The look on his face was funny. He almost looked...smug?

"I'm sure you'll find something to replace it." His voice was terse. I glared at him. It was my favorite, no, it was my only sun dress. It was practically a part of me, how dare he say that? I was about to object to his little injection when Kaitlyn and Angie appeared in the door way. Angie's mouth fell open and Kaitlyn grabbed my arm and dragged me away. I heard Angie mumble a quick, "Dinner's ready," before she was running after me and the angry Irish woman who was dragging me away down the hall. She turned and dumped me into one of the oversized chairs in the family room.

"What the bloody freakin' 'ell were you doing in there?" Wow, I had never heard Kaitlyn swear before.