I Can Hear Your Voice

e i g h t e e n

June 2nd.
2:09 p.m.

[Third Person POV]

"I have to remind you Alpha, that Luka's consciousness is limited right now. He acts based on instincts—what's safe, what's dangerous, what he likes and what he doesn't like. He'll be able to understand what you say, he'll be able to do simple things you tell him to do, and note simple observations about things—but he can't form any detailed thoughts at the moment," Dr. Iris said, staring sternly into Matteo's eyes from the sofa chair in front of him. Dr. Iris makes regular visits to their house, and being that Luka woke up yesterday, she came as soon as she could while working and rescheduling her appointments. Matteo nodded firmly, taking in every single word with determined and invigorated eyes. He wanted to do everything he could for Luka—anything. He wouldn't skip out on anything. If...if he had tried to notice...notice anything with Luka's behavior before then, then this wouldn't have happened. If he had paid attention to Luka's fear, to his emotions—god, if he had tried hard enough, maybe he would have been able to know Luka's feelings, his fear before that day.

Matteo silently sighed, combing his fingers through Luka's wild hair, who was sleeping with his head on his lap. It was incredibly soft, making it so that it even made him feel sleepy. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"Slowly, over time, Luka will begin to form thoughts again, be able to answer questions again as well. His instincts will start to pull away, making it so that he'll feel based on emotion—not on instinct. At that point, he'll act like his usual self, but his body will keep all of the negative memories locked up, only letting them trickle back into memory over time. They're all the memories that have brought him harm, or have harmed him in such a way to lead him to suicide." she continued, her last words making Matteo flinch, but he didn't say anything. It was all his fault.

Ã̷̘̫̳͇͎̺͆̏́̊̆͌͗̕͜͝l̴̨̨̧͎̝̙̺̹͈͈̼̬̪̞̈́̌̋l̸̘̣̯̱̝̭̭͌͆̊͒̏̇̉̓̎̍̇̕ ̷̧͖̲̖̠̩̹̫͈͐̊̆͐͊̎̿̑̈́̓̄͒́̕͝ŷ̶̛̬͈̙̮̲̫̥͕͉̱̯̄̑̈͐͘͘͜͝ơ̷͈̤̪̫̙̤͕͚̌̀́̆̓̅̉͒͋͆̇̌͂ų̷̡̠͍̬͖̺̬̈̇͒̃͑̌̋ŗ̷̡̮͎̰̺̘̻͔̏͆ ̶̨̦̜̥̲͓̔f̴̣̬̤̼̩̙͖͚̬̥̰̙̙̓̈́͑͌̒̈́̃͊̾̌͗̀̕ą̴̛̹̤̳̭̗͙̐͋̓̆̋̿͂͝͝ͅu̵̧̡̡̱̟̬̦̫͔̼͍̰̯̞͒̈́͜͝l̵̛̟̤̼͈͙̇̓̓̾̈̃ț̵̢̜̹̫̻͔̌̄̀̈́.̵̛͓̖͕̰̟͋́̌̊͋͗́̊̒̋̓͘

All my fault.

"So really, all you have to do at this point is to take care of him and be there for him. Even though he doesn't remember much right now, doesn't mean that the emotions are wholly disconnected. At this stage, it is likely he'll feel depressed for long amounts of time. You're his mate. No matter what has gone on between you two, you're the only one who can comfort him and ease his pain." Dr. Iris said as the sound of her pen flying across her paper scratched Matteo's ears. "The only thing that can disrupt this process is something that strongly stirs his emotions, being the most likely; anger or rage." she finished writing on the clipboard with a click of her pen and looked at Matteo, smirking.

"Now, if you really want him to be healthy, don't forget, he's a quarter vampire. He has the ability to drink blood, and while he has no hunger for it like vampires do, it tastes as good to him as it does to them, and much more healthy for his body than normal food. Do you not mind being munched on for these next couple of weeks?" Matteo gawked, face burning red as he spluttered, though still managing to nod his head. With gentle eyes he burned to look down at his lap, lightly pulling the curls with both hands and brushing them loosely. With a tentative finger, he scratched behind an ear which started a sudden chorus of purrs coming from his mate, shocking Matteo to his core but melting the glass inside his chest.

He smiled, eyes curving. I won't ever lose him, he thought.

You won't ever lose him, but...

I̷̡̻̯͓̺̺̬̳̎͑̀͂͋̎͋͐̕t̴̘̟̬̳̯͍̗͖̗̤̲̟̠̂̄̄̂̓̎̿͘͘ ̶̡̨̛̛̳̝̰̹̻͋͂̊̃̊͐͑̐̊̓̚ͅẁ̸̞͖̥̯͙̺̫̓̏̕̕i̶̱̺̯̓͜ĺ̸̡̡̡̼͚̰̉l̷͍̤̠̦̠̮̝͆̋ ̶̹͚̺̝̣̇̀̍̉͆̑̈́͑̀̉͌̔͗̐͘a̶̛̲̗̘͚͔̞̫͌̄̇̅̈́͗̑̋͐̔̚̚̚͜l̵̯̗̪͙̇̊̉̈́͐w̵̛̝̺̮̪̯̹̦̜͈̳͗̒ä̸̪̤̘͓̯́̓͐̐͂͂ÿ̸̛̰̺͔͓̩̟́̎̿̉͋͒̾̾͒̈́̒͘̚s̴̛̻̓̑̏̑͌̆͐͂͑̔̕̚ ̷͈̑̈̎̐̃̈͆́̇̅̃̒͝͝b̶̮̹͆͐͐̔̾̋̀̂͒̌̈́̎̄̒ȩ̵͙̱͇̖̰̼̺̗̓͛̉͗͗̔̃̏̕͝͝ ̶̲͋̀͐͆̓̋́̇̎̽̈́̎͒y̴̨̡̻͍͔͈͚̹͙̯̯̠̳͒̽̒̂͂͂̑͝ͅo̶͉͉͉̯̠͐͐͂͆̈̇̑́͛͘ų̸̛̥͇͉̱̝͈̣̭̗̰̥̭͔͇͂͑͂̂̅̇̾̓̆́͠r̶̨̢̳̝̗̤̾͛̌̍͘ ̷̧̨̩̀̋f̶̦̺̖̥͉̎̈̾̔͐͂̎̎́̋ą̵̢͕̘̟̦̱̘͓̋͂̄u̶̡͙͖̻͖̱̜̤͍̫͇̺͐̕l̷̜̇ẗ̸͔̜͍̩͓̒̄̄̀̾̉͒.̷̧̢̹̤̬̜̞̜̬͖̺͎̰̳̊̐̇̀̓̀͗̄̌̅̿͂̓̚