Chapter 202: R and R
Dear metaphorical diary deep in the darkest crevices of my empty head, yesterday, much like the day before it, and also the day before that, I stayed cooped up underneath warm sheets the whole day.
Beautiful day yesterday, I think. Much like the day before it, I suppose. Same as the one before that too. Wish I knew... it’s too bad my curtains couldn’t be parted open.
Never really noticed how drab my bedroom walls were without the warm rays of sunlight painting it bright. Guess it’s true when they say that you never really notice when you got it good until you don’t got it good no more. Feel me?
Diary in my head, y’know how I mention the other day that I’ll try to keep a positive outlook on things? I’m still going strong, I’m glad to inform.
Been already a week and a half since we said ‘not today’ to the gooey doomsday and my sudden outbursts of extreme pain in the middle of the night had kinda mellowed out a bit nowadays. Magical cramps... thanks to overexertion. Painful, excruciating... but gradually getting better so long as I don’t pull anymore daredevils stunts like walking for too long.
My body after all was still feeling a bit crabby from all the abuse I put it through, but it’s slowly coming back around to giving me full use of it again without having me keel over halfway down the hallway whenever I thought I was feeling better.
I mean, I actually made it to the living room yesterday. Couldn’t take a step further though, but progress is progress, yeah? Besides, it’s a good excuse to have Ash carry me back upstairs in her arms so gentle and soft again, so really by all accounts, if we overlooked the pain, it’s really a win-win for me.
.....
Speaking of Ash, dear little intangible journal, I haven’t really seen much of her these past few days. I regret saying before that I thought she was going a tad bit overboard with this 24/7 eternal nurse duty.
Remember that? Remember in the beginning when I said she didn’t have to be tending to my needs from dusk till dawn till dusk again? Well now I’m eating my words, cause aside from quick sporadic visits in the day, she hardly ever shows now.
Not that I can blame her, cause as always, she was just following orders... my orders – well, by proxy anyway. I still opened up that text from three days ago just to give it a read every now and again.
<>
Haven’t heard from her a single instance since we got back home, not even for just a casual chat, all this time recuperating, healing, then suddenly a text out of nowhere relaying instructions.
It’s like the detective inside her never slumbered.
I shot her an <> back and that was that. Every day ever since, Ash spends most of her time out there in the park with her, and I’m still not really sure why. All they do was just talk, the one time I asked, that’s what Ash told me – they just talked.
Irene wasn’t telling either. Never heard from her back, probably why I kept her text lingering in the back of my mind... guess I was just waiting for some news, good news I hope.
Last thing I sent her – <> – was last seen at ten in the morning two days ago. Nothing since.
Hopefully something soon.
Dear brain book, I wished I could wake up early to say goodbye at least... Ash was always gone by the time I was wide awake. And honestly, don’t tell no one please, but I really am not too fond of my new caretaker either.
Her nursing methods... can get quite unorthodox, to put it politely.
The bedroom door slowly creaked ajar, a silver tray nudging on through.
“I have... breakfast... ready...” whispered a dreamy voice from behind the tray, strands of long grey hair close to dipping into a cup that laid atop. “You can eat... now...”
The sharp tips of her fingers scraped the bottom of the tray on either side, first day trying, she tripped on the carpet and I ended up being stabbed in the eye by a piece of burnt sausage that was sent flying.
And there I was lying there thinking to myself, dripping in room-temperature coffee, wondering if a vampire’s agility was nothing but a lie, cause I saw none right then whatsoever.
Second day trying, she miraculously made it beside my bed with nary a stumble... but breakfast just turned out being scorched bits of charcoal still sizzling on the plate. Wanted to be nice, so yeah, I still ate it.
Trust me if you were being stared at the way I was being stared at, you would have gobbled it down whole too. Can’t say no to that face so please spare me your silent judgments. I’m only human.
Did I regret it? Generous-me says pfft not at all. Honest-me says fuck yes never again.
Which brings us to today in the present time at just half-past ten, dear diary, with our third attempt at breakfast in bed.
I’m sure most would consider such a thing a luxury, especially when said breakfast was being brought forth by a damsel of such ethereal beauty. But was it really worth the risk of being drenched or nearly breaking your teeth biting into a hockey puck?
Weighing out the pros and cons here, and from what I could see one side really looked to be tilting itself much more than the other. Take a guess which side it could be.
Honestly, Ash really was better at the whole servant thing. The way she does it, every meal precise, my clothes for the day already laid out perfectly by the desk, how efficiently she sorted everything out, it’s like watching a master at work.
Meanwhile, Adalia was... well, doing her best. Accidently sliced a pair of my boxers once with her claws, another time she short-circuited the entire house plugging in the vacuum cleaner. Don’t ask me how.
Oh well, crippled beggars can’t be crippled choosers, I suppose.
I say all that but right now, it was actually promising start this time around, she managed to tightrope herself beside me again and she hadn’t at all come close to a stumble.
“I followed... the instructions... this time...” Adalia assured, lowering the tray onto my lap. “I kept... Amanda’s note with... me...”
Good that you did. I’d hate to have call her again for another S.O.S emergency visit of the starving variety. Had to do that twice now, don’t think she’d appreciate a thrice third day running.
Took a whiff of what she whipped up, and surprise you me... it smelled like what it was supposed to smell like, eggs and sausages... even more promising, they actually looked like eggs and sausages, and not like something you’ll find in an abandoned coal mine.
I gave her a smile of approval, nodding my head, and staring at her with pride... then I noticed how shiny red the palms of her hands were, and the smile immediately faded.
“You burnt yourself,” I said, feeling a pang in my chest at the sight of it. “Are you okay?”
“Oh... yes...” Adalia slowly raised her hands in front of her, gazing at them with the same faraway indifference as she did everything else. “It doesn’t... hurt... I’m... okay...”
Not the slightest flicker of pain on her face.
“It’s fire, Adalia,” I pointed out, feeling my appetite vanish. “And you’re a vampire. Last I check, those two things don’t mix. You can’t tell me it didn’t hurt, of course it did.”
She lowered her hands to her side. “Only... a little...”
It didn’t look like only a little.
“Know what? You don’t have to cook anymore, okay? Bread and some jam would do just fine too,” I told her, trying to sound as casual as I could about it. “If your sister finds out what I’m making you do... oh boy... ”
“You didn’t make... me...” Adalia shook her head. “I... wanted to... do it...”
I drew my head back. “You wanted to?”
“It’ll help you... get better... right?”
Didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.
“I want you... to get better...”
Oh. Okay. That’s all I needed to hear, then. If she truly meant that, well... like I said, how can you say no to that face? You gonna try and judge me now? Yeah, I thought so.
I picked up the fork. “Alright.”
Took a sip of the coffee she brewed. Tasted like grounded dirt from the backyard... but for some reason, I didn’t mind the tase one bit, instead, I took an even bigger sip.
Actually I take it back, it ain’t half-bad...
“I’m digging in now, you remember what comes after, yes?” I smacked my lips, my appetite resurging with a vengeance. “What’s next on the schedule?”
“Next...” Adalia murmured, slowly pulling from somewhere in all the frills and laces of her dress, a little note hastily scribbled on. “Walking... try to reach... the front door... don’t fall...”
“Front door,” I blew a breath. “Guess Ash thinks I’m ready for the big leagues. What do you think?”
Adalia wasn’t much of a conversationalist. I thought we could talk for a bit while I ate, but no, without any warning, without even saying anything – she just walked herself away.
“Okay, good talk, then... see you soon,” I shrugged my shoulders. Been under her care for three days now, I’m pretty much used to her eccentricity. “Ah! this time could you please kindly close the – ”
She didn’t close the door. Now that, I don’t think I can ever get used to. Every time she leaves, she always leaves the door as is, no matter how many times I remind her to swing it close.
I like me my privacy, so closed doors are a must if I was ever to get any. Yet alas, I was laid quite comfortably in place unable to move a single inch, the open door just beyond reach of my outstretched arm.
Whatever was a man to do?
I know.
Breathing in deep, I swiped my arm in the air like I was trying to swat a fly away, and like a gust of strong wind blowing through a window, the door went careening, then clicking, slamming firmly shut.
Heh, would ya look at that? Dear diary, day seven, attempt number forty-seven, operation shut-the-damn-door status: a resounding glorious success.
Looks like my magic was back.
I’ll be able to start moving again soon enough.
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶