Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
After what we’d lived through, our connection had reached an almost reverent level that didn’t need to be discussed or analysed. All that mattered was we’d ceased to be two people with two separate pasts and futures and blended into one.
And because of that, his exhaustion was my exhaustion. Weights dangled on my eyelids as sleep finally wriggled into my brain. I calmed with his arms around me. I snuggled ever closer.
He moaned under his breath as dreams found him, claiming the man who was utterly invincible, beyond intelligent, and almost super human in his drive to survive.
He was unconscious before I’d fully wriggled into comfort. His belly expanding. His lungs breathing. His body heavy and hot around mine.
Whatever he’d done was over.
The Chinmoku were gone.
We’d well and truly earned our tomorrows.
* * * * *
The moon rose, chasing away the clouds that’d plagued most of the day at sea.
Large swells and rocking yachts meant I’d been happy to stay in bed while Elder slumbered beside me, never waking—even when I stole away to the bathroom and winced at the circlet of bruises around my throat. Not when I went to grab lunch from the kitchen and filled my empty belly with sustenance. Not when I sat in his office chair and scribbled notes to No One about wars and chains and things I never wanted to live through again.
Transcribing my thoughts to paper helped organise my scattered ideals and conclusions and find the ability to once and for all put it behind me. Just like I’d learned to speak without fear, I was ready to live every day without looking over my shoulder, without second-guessing myself, without doubting those I’d slowly learned to trust.
I was whole now thanks to whatever had clicked inside me while Daishin held me captive. I was no longer lost or afraid.
By the time day turned to evening and I’d napped beside Elder for the third time, his eyes finally opened just as stars twinkled above.
He’d kissed me and gingerly climbed from the bed. After a bathroom visit, he captured my hand and escorted me into the shower.
There, we washed each other silently. Both content not to talk, healing in silence and warm water.
Afterward, once he’d winced his way into a new t-shirt and track pants, Elder summoned Michaels who arrived with his black bag of medicine and checked him over, doling out new antibiotics and painkillers, before ordering him back to bed.
Elder tried to fight his lethargy. He called the kitchen for dinner and strong coffee, but the moment he’d eaten, his body shut down and he tumbled back into sleep.
* * * * *
For two days, Elder couldn’t stay awake for long.
He’d rouse, talk, eat, shower, then fall asleep for long stretches.
Every time he woke, Michaels was there to administer drugs and painkillers, ensuring Elder’s healing kept progressing while his body demanded as much rest as it could get.
On the third day, when Elder once again summoned coffee from the kitchens in a bid to stay awake, he sat up in bed with the doors open for fresh air, and tolerated Michaels’s daily visit.
His eyes locked on mine where I sat across the room in a comfy silver suede chair.
Selix had kindly rustled up a laptop for me to use, and for the first time in forever, I had access to the internet and the news of the world that I’d been hidden from for so long.
As Michaels ensured Elder would live another day, I tried to log into old email and Facebook accounts, forgetting passwords and having to jump through hoops, confirming I was who I said I was.
Luckily, I’d never been issued a death certificate, and none of my profiles had been taken down—not that there was anything newsworthy when I finally did log in.
My email account had been suspended with a bounce back saying it was no longer active. My Facebook feed looked like a stranger’s with girls and boys from school now men and women embarking on careers, marriage, and adventures.
My lonely page was a scrapbook of my past life. A photo snippet of a party I went to but hated. A tag from someone in class making fun of the teacher. A mention in a lip-sync contest held at our sister-school.
Things that would’ve meant something then but now meant absolutely nothing.
I looked up, meeting Elder’s gaze again, and smiled.
The only thing that meant something was him.
Michaels finished assessing his patient, giving me a wave as he packed up and left.
Ever since we’d embarked on the Phantom, there’d been no stupid discussions of me returning to my suite below; no attempts at pretending we needed space from each other.
Elder and I were a couple in every sense of the word.
In fact, couple was too lacking a phrase.
I was his, through and through. No other terminology would suffice.