Page 141 of The Wishing Game

Reaching for the pieces of cloth I laid aside, I grab one, soaking it in the water.

I start with his face. Though I wiped his cheeks before, they are still stained. Tracing his forehead, I move the cloth softly over his skin. The planes of his face are a surprising combination of sharp and soft. Where his cheekbones and his jaw are sharp, his lips are full and soft. As I peruse his face, I wonder if his species is similar to ours, with more than one race. His features are reminiscent of East Asian ancestry, yet there's still something foreign to them. Something that's both alluring and frightening.

As I finish with his face, I move lower to his neck. His pulse is strong, which gives me hope that this isn't too serious and that he'll awaken soon. His neck and collarbone have the most direct splatters, the rest of his torso only stained by the fluids that have seeped through his clothes.

I exchange the dirty cloth for a clean one and continue wiping down his torso. His chest rises and falls, his breathing steady yet punctuated.

Trailing down his abdominals, I make sure there's nothing left in the grooves of his muscles. But as I trail lower and lower, I get a little apprehensive. Taking a deep breath, I quickly clean the skin peeking through the band of his pants before I discard the cloth as well.

When I'm done, I go back to the fire to check on the boiling water. Seeing that it's done, I carefully move it to the side, letting it settle for a few moments before adding his shirt and the dirty cloths in the container and stirring them together. It might not work as well as soap, but it should at least removesomeof the dirt.

"Ah," a sound echoes in the cave.

Turning sharply, I see Ze turning around in his sleep, his features tense, his brows bunched together.

"Ze? Are you all right?" I ask, my voice full of worry.

He doesn't answer me, but as I note the goosebumps on his skin, I realize he must be cold.

Damn!

I look around, but there's nothing to cover him with. His clothes will take a while to dry too, and I can't let him freeze to death.

Without any other option, I take off my hoodie, remaining only in a thin white sports bra. It's a little chilly, but I'll be fine. He, however, will not.

I cover him with it to the best of my ability, but he's too big even for my oversized hoodie.

"What next?" I mumble to myself. "Oh, right. Water!"

I empty the dirty water from the cloth in a corner and scoop some lye to scrub it as clean as I can before rinsing it off, careful not to contaminate the pond with the lye. When it's relatively clean, I fill it with water and place it over the fire to boil.

In the meantime, I rummage through our bag, happy there are at least a few sips of water left in our jug that I can give him.

"Ze," I whisper. "Drink some water," I say as I cradle his head in my lap, trying to angle his head so he won't choke on the liquid. Yet as I bring the jug to his lips, I realize he can't drink it. Placing my fingers on his jaw, I slowly part his lips as I incline the jug, letting a few drops fall into his mouth.

I stare intently until I see the small movement of his throat.

He's swallowing!

I repeat the motion, feeding him a few drops at a time, giving him time to swallow them. I do this until the jug is empty.

"You did great," I praise him, gently brushing my fingers through his hair.

The water is boiled and I pick it off the fire, then place it on the floor to cool off. Then I turn my attention to the clothes, doing my best to clean them before placing them to dry on the floor near the fire.

I glance back at Ze every now and then. He's still cold, trying to wrap himself in my hoodie but with no real success. He covers one part of his body, only for another to become uncovered.

"Ze? Can you hear me?" I ask in a low voice as I come by his side.

I swipe my hand over his forehead, checking for his temperature.

"You're not running a fever," I breathe in relief.

"Mmm..." He releases a guttural sound as he scrunches his nose, a visible shiver racking his body.

"You're still cold, aren't you?" I murmur, getting closer to him.

He mumbles something in his sleep, moaning lightly as if in pain.

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