There was a sharp knock on the door.
Startled out of his sleep, Zephren felt his dreams slip away, forgotten almost instantly. The room was dark, light finding its way onto the floor from underneath the door crack.
Groaning, Zeph felt his face unstick from the cold floor.
He could hear people talking loudly downstairs, curiosity piquing his interest.
Before he had time to push himself up from the hardwood or even become aware of his stiff and aching body, the door opened with a sharp clack.
A dark hand switched on electric lights that blinded Zeph. He flinched away from the brightness, huddling into a fetal position as his eyes instantaneously clamped shut. Trying to focus on the blotches of vibrant pink behind his eyelids, Zephren determinedly pried them open with sheer will.
Blinking rapidly, Zephren felt his breath catch in his throat as he gazed up at Rose. The tall, elegant siren with long white hair looked…comfortable. While yesterday he had been dressed head to toe in striking black leather, today he wore the same black boots and gloves, but his pants were made of a stiff, black cloth and his shirt was a loose grey long sleeve. His white eyelashes cast long shadows on his high cheekbones, and his silver eyes struck Zephren just as hard as the first time; dangerous and demonic.
“Are you alright?” Rosakai asked, walking over and outstretching his hand to Zephren; his surprise at seeing Zephren out of bed was evident. “Why are you on the floor?”
Zeph blinked slowly, his eyelids still heavy as he tried to remember where he was and what exactly had happened. Taking Rosakai’s hand, Zephren felt the warmth of his touch even through Rose’s thick glove.
‘Don’t tell him.’ Zephren didn’t want to tell Rosakai how he had pathetically chosen to sleep on the floor, because it ‘felt more like home’. “I guess I fell,” Zeph lied.
Rose glanced at the bed; sheets still untouched.
Grateful for the silence, Zephren accepted Rosakai’s help to stand. Zeph could only stand for a moment before his knees gave out and he sank back onto the soft bed. Zeph couldn’t help but flinch a little, feeling uneasy as he tried to balance himself. His arm was still hanging, bandaged, in the sling of gauze, and his side felt tightly wrapped, which made it difficult to breathe.
“What time is it?” Zephren asked, rubbing his face. He could feel the indented lines of the floorboards pressed into his skin.
Rosakai placed a large glass of water on the table beside Zephren as he pulled up the wooden chair from the corner of the room. “Five in the morning,” Rose stated as he sat in front of Zeph and folded his hands in his lap, “and it looks like a storm’s rolling in, too.” He looked anxious as he leaned over his knees.
Zephren glanced out the window, surprised that it still almost looked like night outside. It was so early in the morning that the sun wasn’t even a glow on the horizon. The sky was thick with dark grey clouds, blocking all light from the moon or sun. An odd orange glow reflected dully off the mist that cloaked the grass and water below and the forest line was barely visible through the fog.
Zephren picked the glass up and sipped gingerly, realizing how sour his mouth tasted. Trying not to make a face, he gulped down the water until the glass was empty and placed it back on the table.
“How are you feeling?” Rose asked, watching him carefully.
His eyes felt heavy and sunken in, almost as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. “I’m really tired,” Zephren said, wondering if Rose might let him go back to bed.
Rose nodded, his lips tightening into a hard line. “I know, but we need to redress your wounds.” He took Zeph’s right hand in his, detaching the gauze from his palm. Thick red blisters and peeling skin were still raw from the burns.
Zephren felt his stomach churn, brows furrowed. “That…doesn’t look good.”
Rose didn’t say anything, placing Zeph’s hand back onto the mattress.
He tilted his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes a little, grimacing slightly as he reached out to gently peel back a layer of gauze over Zephren’s broken arm.
‘Comforting,’ Zeph thought, waiting for Rose to say something…anything.
“Your injuries are far more severe than I expected…” It was not what Zephren had wanted to hear.
Zeph felt his heartbeat increase slightly, looking at his arm, then back at Rose. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
Rosakai was silent as he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His brows were creased tightly as he muttered, “When there is, I’ll tell you... I promise.”
Narrowing his eyes, Zephren was about to retort when there was another slighter knock on the open door.
Looking up, Zephren was greeted by a woman who wore a tight white dress shirt, tucked into beige high waisted trousers. She had deep, dark-brown skin, darker than Blade’s, and voluminous, spiraling white hair that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were a clear bright blue, and as Zephren looked at her face, he noticed small places where her skin had turned a silvery-white. The pale skin appeared in thin celestial shapes, continuing onto her neck and hands, in a kind of mesmerizing randomness.
She smiled warmly, glancing at Rose briefly before introducing herself. “Hi Zephren, my name is Starlight. I’ve been treating your injuries over the past few days.” She closed the door before she outstretched her hand towards Zeph.
Zephren took it, shaking it weakly.
She beamed at him, her voice sounding like a bell, “It’s good to see you awake. You’re a fighter. Is it okay if I have a look at your wounds?”
It was odd for Zephren to hear the words. He’d been called a weapon, a fighter, weak, strong…everything felt contradicting. All of his thoughts and senses were so overwhelmed; he felt wounded and shattered; beyond feeble, nothing like a fighter.
Zephren simply nodded, eyes flicking towards Rose for reassurance.
He only nodded.
Starlight bent to put the large bag she had been carrying onto the ground. As she opened the large black leather bag, rummaging through it. The first thing she did was replace the gauze on his hand after putting an ointment on the burns.
She carefully positioned Zephren under the warm, soft covers of the bed, reaching to remove his shirt. Zephren felt his stomach quiver, hesitating awkwardly before saying, “Will this hurt?”
Frowning slightly, Starlight sighed. Her next words were a rude awakening, “I won’t lie, I might have to dig around a bit. Yesterday I debrided the wound, but I might need to clean it out a bit more. I also might need to reset the splint in your arm. We’ll also have to change the compression bandages and I might need to sew in some more stitches—”
“Star, you’re scaring him.” Rose looked at Zeph with concern—Zephren relieved that someone had noticed his alarm as the reconstruction list kept going. Rose gave Zeph a slight shrug, sighing, “So, in translation, yes. It will hurt.”
Starlight gave Zephren an apologetic look. “Sorry. I do get a bit…carried away.”
“I’ll say,” Rose smirked, shaking his head.
Concerned, Star chewed at her lower lip, attention back on Zeph. “I want to focus on giving you the best medical care I can… but, you might want a distraction.” She placed a hand on her hip, grinning as she said, “Whatever your preference, you’re lucky you’ve got some eye-candy between the two of us.”
Zephren’s eyes went wide, blushing as his gaze immediately fixated on Rose, who was busy muttering and rolling his eyes.
Star leaned in, readying her materials. She was close when she captured Zephren’s embarrassed gaze, tilting her head towards Rose. She had a kind of knowing smile on her face as she whispered to Zeph, “He’s not bad looking, is he?”
Swallowing, Zephren’s mouth felt incredibly dry, his face hot as he glanced at Rose. ‘No,’ Zephren thought to himself, ‘he isn’t.’
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