Dr. Harvey left with his students, I picked up that they wouldn't allow him to study what he intentionally proposed to do. His son Patrick however was left to continue studying at his own pace.
Compared to his father he's very unproductive, he wastes lots of time and is very unprofessional. He'd tell me about his day and all kinds of stories. Sometimes I'd be kept for an extra few days just because he wants to talk to me. It's much easier to listen instead of coming up with a satisfying response, especially for Patrick so I hardly talk.
For a few weeks now he's been working on me. There's times when he doesn't take me to the lab so I lay in the white room.
I finish writing things off in my journal, drawing plants in detail. Closing it I set it onto the counter I quickly shuffle to go to the bathroom. Once I'm finished I wash my hands, it's been calm this month. Neither of on them verge of death. When I softly open the door I'm in for a surprise, the boy stands over the counter. Quietly he flips through the pages of my journal, he closes it setting it exactly how I had left it. I wait a few seconds before closing the door behind me loudly.
No reaction from either of us he simply drags his feet and heavy armor into his room.
Then I sit at my desk, sketching where I'd think the herbs would be found. Then the day sets and I sit tight on the couch intertwining my fingers. Calmly breathing starting blankly at the wall.
I'm not sure how long he was standing in the hallway , but he comes striding in taking a seat right next to me. I pull myself out of my daily trance, his head falls onto my lap. Today had been a tiring day for him, carefully I pull the knots out of his hair and massage his temples. Meanwhile his free hand rubs circles on my knee with his thumb.
I don't remember when his hands had gotten rough, or when he'd grown to be tall, when his face had gotten stubbly. He didn't like facial hair he'd always cut it. His name unknown to me, at times I would want to know more of him his name at least. Do you wish someone else could heal us? Do you want to know more about me as I to you? It seems he would, since he flipped through my journal. He knows what it is I do when I'm not here, my role a lab rat. And I hardly know his. Did he want to eat me when the woman told him to? Does he know why we're here? When can I go outside? If I ask would be get mad?
"What's your name?"
I hadn't been this nervous in a while. My heart raced my palms slowly getting clammy. It took so long for him to respond I began to think he wouldn't answer me.
"Gabriel."
It was soft you'd think the wind whispered it. My fingertips danced on his cheekbone. "Eleanor."
We left it as it is, silently sitting feeling in a void. I felt nothing I should have felt something anything in this situation but I felt nothing. I came to the white room and did nothing.
The following day was the same, I stayed and slept painted in the walls and sketched leafs. Gabriel would come and we'd eat, I'm not sure when his appetite grew but it was much more that last month. He's always sharp with everything, either wearing a tired grim face or angry furrowed eyebrows. I'd wear the same facial expression, static. I never really feel anything nor anger or such. After we ate we laid on the rug, holding our hands up to the sun. His were calloused and not much larger than mine. I'm not sure when but we fell asleep. His head rested on my forearm with one of my legs over his torso.
When I woke up I was in the lab, Patrick's back was to me mixing chemicals in a tube. He turned around immediately smiling, "good morning beautiful princess."
I stayed still watching him intensely.
"I've brought a few things for you," out of his bag he pulls tweezers. "How would you do for a self care day?"
He began to pull the hairs from my eyebrows. Patrick called them a quick "clean" he said the woman outside are preferred to not have hair that it isn't pretty. After he finished he moved onto my arms those didn't hurt much but when he got to my legs he made a new batch of honey. "Now don't cry beautiful." He wasn't fazed when he lifted my dress, simply began to work. Spreading the honest paste on my legs then counting and pulled. My eyes watered a bit. "Good girl."
He finished I'd think, "now this spot might hurt." He was decent enough to at least cool down the paste before apply it onto my private area. But when pulling he was ruthless. I'd let a few yelps out. He took off the gloves, "you did amazing."
This is another example of unproductive.
He left for a few hours then came back he seemed even more unprofessional this time around, he was crying about his mother. Then he left for the day and the next day, while I laid in hunger my stomach felt like it was sinking in. Dr Harvey would bring someone to feed me when he'd keep me extra days in the lab. I just think Patrick forgot....
