Nobles

Ch. 3: I'm afraid

She was tired.

So, so tired.

Her head hurt, actually, everything hurt. Her mind was fuzzy. And her eyes would not open. But she could hear somebody breathing right next to her. She turned her head and willed her eyes open.

It was him, the Mountain man. He was sitting next to her bed, leaning over and sleeping with his head on his arms resting on the side of her bed. His semi-long nearly black hair fell down over his forehead. His long, long dark lashes rested on his cheek.

The sleep softened his features. The natural lines around his eyes relaxed and his mouth looked soft. He had nice features, even with the big bushy beard she could see he had high cheekbones and a square jaw. She liked that he did not snore, he made small sounds deep in his throat.

"Hey," she whispered in a hoarse voice.

He lifted his head faster than she had expected. He had to be an extremely light sleeper. "You ok?"

Those eyes.

Green, green eyes.

"Water?"

"Of course." He got up and found a cup of water for her and helped her get a few sips. "You should rest."

"How long?"

"Eight days since we found you."

"Eight days?"

Her mind was in a fog.

Strixe laid back, looking up at him. His eyes held concern and he was examining her reactions closely.

"Are you in pain? Do you need something relaxing?" He held on to her wrist with his long fingers and checked her pulse.

"A little." She sighed. "A lot."

With a little chuckle, he found a pair of painkillers and helped her swallow them with some water.

She could not believe it had been eight days already. She remembered bits and pieces. Pilar being there, an old lady singing in a low voice while she cleaned her wounds, but what she remembered best was him.

It did not matter when she had woken up or how tired she had been, he had been there. Those green eyes watching her all the time.

Sitting by her side, gently washing her or checking her wounds, holding her in his arms while the bedsheets were being changed, taking her to the toilet, though she embarrassingly remembered most of the times it had been too late when he did.

He had fed her broth and given her water, held her hand when she had night terrors. Her memories were still a blur, she saw images and felt like the smells never left her nostrils, but she had no clear images of what had happened, only when she slept her mind gave her the full experience and she struggled to sleep, but she was too tired to wake up.

She felt trapped in her body.

"You're healing well."

"Still hurts."

"You'll be sore for a while, and laying down passive for so long doesn't help, but you'll get better each day." He stroked her hand with and encouraging smile through the bushy beard. "You should sleep a bit more."

"Name?"

"I'm Philo, I'm a doctor."

"Philo," Strixe repeated and tried to say it like he did. Phil-Oh.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured.

She sent him a small, tired smile and closed her eyes. It was not hard falling asleep; she could do that.