Academy Tales: Owen Blackbourne In Russia

Chapter 7- Connection

I currently feel like absolute shit as I have a nice cold, but oh well. Here's the update people keep asking for:

Where's my random fact crew???? I need my facts!

Sang's POV:

I dealt with Mr Owen's wound, and re-dressed it in record time. Pinning the bandage edge down with a few bandaids, I stepped back, hands on my hips, to admire my work. I did a good job if I do say so myself.

My eyes slowly began to trail up Mr Owen's skin, greedily taking in the sight of a tanned muscular body. I slapped myself in the face. "You dumbass," I spoke to my self," why are you being a pervert towards an unconcious, injured man?"

I was so weird. I think not having human contact these past few years has definitely had some impact on my social skills.My eyes snapped to his face, checking to see if he had heard me talk.

I knew logically that he was unconcious because if the pills, but it was better safe then sorry. I shook my head. How did I always get myself into strange messes. Damn my kind hearted-ness.

If it wasn't for my gentle heart, then I wouldn't be in this mess, and I could be content in the knowledge that there's some strange man dying near my fence. But no. I had to take him to my house, heal him twice, and am now hovering over him like an anxious girlfriend.

I sighed and left the room. It wasn't like I could return him to the fence now. He knew where I lived now, so i was better off trying to become his friend than dumping him off, in the hope that he wouldn't breathe a word to anyone about my little haven.  There was nothing I could do. I may as well be content with my choices instead of letting them worry me.

I headed to my bedroom, wanting to catch some sleep before I dealt with Mr Owen again. Grabbing my pajamas from my closet, I headed towards the bathroom to change.

Once inside, I made sure the door was closed before I stripped and put on fresh clothes. I was mindful of the wrap on my back. I never took it off, as I didn't want to see the ruined remains of my back. I had seen it enough over the years, and wished to simply pretend it didn't exist most of the time.

But in some instances, I couldn't ignore the damage to my back, as I have good days and bad days. On bad days, my back will ache and throb, and often refuse to let me move from bed, almost as if it has a mind of its own and wants to remind me that it's nerve damaged.

On those days, I silently cry and scream on the inside, as I've been trained not to cry, and sleep the day away, hoping that when I wake up next that the pain will be a small fraction of what it was before.

I am almost never pain free, but as I said before I just have my good days and my bad days. On good days I can ignore the pain. I smile and pretend that I'm not breaking on the inside, that I'm not totally unhappy with my life.

I finish putting on my clothes and take a final look at myself in the mirror, before leaving the bathroom. I pull back the covers on my bed and slide in on my stomach, very mindful of the covers on my back as usual. My last thought before I fell into a restless exhausted sleep, was 'he'd never want me, I'm too ugly.'

(Anyone else feeling sad for Sang right now? I know I am,and I wrote this )

Owen's POV:

The first thing I felt when I awoke, was a breeze flowing across my face, and with it came the scent of oranges, and something else. I took a bigger wifg and then immediately regretted it. I knew exactly what the second scent was.Manure. I wrinkled my nose. Not a very pleasant thing to smell upon waking.

I carefully peeled back the covers from my body, wanting to check my wound before I stood. There were neatly wrapped bandages around my torso, held in place by bandaids. Sang was really good at first aid. I stood slowly, cautiously holding my side, trying to make sure that I wouldn't destroy any of Sang's hard work.

I padded across the room, my feet making dull muffled thuds as I crossed the carpet in the bedroom, heading towards the living room.

I didn't see Sang anywhere, so I assumed that she was either outside or sleeping. I didn't know why I felt that she wouldn't bring me any harm, I just instinctively knew that she wouldn't hurt me.

Upon entering the living room, I realised that all of the furniture was wood and seemed to be hand made. I had thought the stool I sat on at the kitchen before was handmade, but I wasn't sure.

But looking at the wooden living room set, I was certain that all of Sang's furniture was handmade, probably by her, as I had seen no evidence of another person in the area nor in her house when I went wondering.

There was a distinct lack of technology in the room, but there was a rather full bookshelf to the side of the room. I headed towards it with the intention to look through her collection, but stopped abruptly, when I saw one of my favourite books, staring at me from the middle shelf of the cabinet.

Grabbing the book, I headed towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room, and sat in it, content to read this book and wait for Sang to return from wherever she was. I knew she'd come back eventually.

So how was the chapter?

Worth the wait?

I know it was a little bit of a filler,but it gave you more information on Sang

So I was thinking Boy's POV next. Yes or no?

Any embarrassing moments you want me to try to make happen with Sang and Owen? All suggestions are welcome.

Any errors? Please point them out.

Thankyou everyone,

Obsessed_With_Cats

1044 words.