Page 378 of Eternal
I turned the shower on, letting the water run warm. Grabbed a washcloth, soap, then I knelt again.
Her hands first. Blood crusted between her fingers, under her nails. I worked the cloth between each knuckle, wiping slowly.
Her wrists were sore, skin rubbed raw where she’d been gripping the knife too hard or too long.
I moved to her arms, up to her shoulders. Gently.
She was still breathing shallow, but she was here.
When I reached her hair, I cupped her face in my hands and tilted it gently up.
She looked at me. For the first time since we walked in.
“Okay?” I asked.
A breath. Just one. Then a nod. Barely.
I helped her into the shower. She stepped in slowly. Didn’t flinch at the warm water.
Her skin went pink where the heat met dried blood. I reached in, soaked her hair, ran shampoo through it with both hands.
She stood still, head bowed. Her back streaked red where blood had dried and run down her spine.
I rinsed her hair. I did it twice. Then soap again. Neck, shoulders, lower. I was gentle with the backs of her knees, her ankles, the spots where bruises were already forming.
She swayed once. I caught her shoulder through the spray, steadied her.
She didn’t cry. Didn’t say anything.
I got her out after. Wrapped her in a towel. Carried her back to the bedroom, bare skin hot from the water, and laid her down on the edge of the bed.
Her eyes followed me now.Tired.
I dried her off and pulled out something light, a cotton top, soft shorts. No bra. No socks.
I dressed her slowly, like she might break if I moved too fast. Pulled her hair back. Ran my fingers through it to get out the last knots. And then braided it. She looked at me while I did it.
I kissed her temple.
“I don’t want to be here,” she whispered. Her voice was raw. “Not inside.”
I nodded once. Changed and put a t-shirt on. Picked up the keys and then we stepped outside, the heat of the night settling heavy on us.
I put on my helmet and helped her with hers, then climbed on my bike. She slid on behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. And exhaled.
The city blurred past as we rode, the noise fading behind. Before we reached the overlook, I pulled off to a small food cart.
“I’ll grab us something,” I said, gently tapping her forehead through her helmet to get her attention.
Her eyes met mine inside the visor, tired, raw, but in that moment, they betrayed a faint drop of a smile.
I brought some food and hit the road again.
When we pulled up to the bench, I got off. So did she. The moment the wind hit her face, she breathed,reallybreathed.
Then she walked to it and sat. Curled in on herself like she was shrinking from things I couldn't see.
I handed her the drink and the fries before sitting beside her. She leaned into me slowly, like she wasn’t sure I’d hold.
