31 That night with her - 2

Getting inside her bedroom, Caroline growled and threw her bathrobe on the bed. Anger was clearly dripping from her face. She quickly pulled a loose t-shirt and somehow managed to get it on, her cast-wrapped hand resting inside the fabric.

'Moronic entity!'

She cursed, switched off all the lights except the bed light, and picked up her bathrobe to put in the hamper. All she wanted now was a peaceful sleep and a mind without any thoughts about him.

'Crash!'

And a thunderous sound of her window glasses breaking into pieces scared the shit out of her. Crouching near the foot post, she could only think of the man in her living room and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Morpheous!"

The next second, before she could even finish the last syllable of his name, he was inside her room, her door broken and lying flat on the carpet in front of her.

'Were the hinges that weak?'

"Stay there! Don't get up!" He instructed her while moving towards the window, but an unsettling fear made her instantly reach out for his hands. The moment she held onto him, he looked down, silently assuring her that he was there for her.

She didn't want to admit that she was scared. Everything that had happened that morning reeled in front of her. What if that man came back? What if he tries to ... She shuddered with the thought, but there was something about him, his presence, that assured her that it was ok to be vulnerable in front of him. "There are shards everywhere." She gave him a reason to stop him even though what she meant was - Don't leave me. But she was way too prude to admit that.

He looked all around, and suddenly, his face turned white as if he had seen a ghost. He darted towards the window after switching on all the lights. But the moment she saw his back, she stood up in horror. His light gray shirt was inked in blood in a weird pattern of two convex arcs.

"Morpheous!" She screamed as that sight sent a shock through her body.

"Your back! You are bleeding!"

"What?" And he instantly tapped on his back with his hands. Without turning toward her, he rushed inside her bathroom and locked the door behind him.

"Morpheous!"

"Open the door, Morpheous! Let me see!"

But he didn't bother to open it despite her multiple requests. Instead, she heard him run the tap.

"Open it, damn it! Stop scaring the hell out of me!" Her voice was more demanding than ever.

'Click'

He came out of the bathroom wearing the same shirt but soaking wet in an attempt to clean the blood stains.

"Open your shirt. Let me see your wound."

"I don't have a wound," he replied as normally as possible.

"Do you think I am a child, Morpheous? Turn around." Her voice was indignant.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from me? Just… Just don't!" He said and walked towards her bed and touched the fabric with his hands, and even smelled it.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, half annoyed and half-amused by his flipping behavior.

"How did it get stained?" He asked and looked outside the window.

"What is stained Morpheous?" Asked Caroline as she came next to him near the bed. "What is it?"

"You… You don't see the bed stained with…"

"With what? It looks perfectly clean to me!" She answered, cutting through his question but seeing his face getting even more worried, she frowned. "Can you please let me dress your wounds now?"

"Stop! Stop right there!" He warned her with his palms raised in her direction, and for a fleeting second, he turned his eyes down, showing her the broken glass piece she was about to step on.

And when she looked down, she suddenly became aware that she hadn't worn her shorts yet, and hastily pulled the ends of her t-shirt, taking a step back. But she was scooped in his arms before she could even land her heel on the carpet.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whined and desperately tried to pull her t-shirt, which was now barely covering her bottom. But when she looked at his face, he wasn't looking anywhere except her face. 

"Don't look down or anywhere. I am not appropriately dressed." She grinds her teeth.

"I won't."

That's it. Two words. But those two words landed heavy. 

"I told you to stay there. How can you walk barefoot? It's a minefield of glass." He was visibly annoyed. Keeping a straight face, he took her to the living room couch.

She couldn't believe that this was her life. She was letting a near-stranger touch her bare thighs. Not to mention shady, mysterious, and ...

Turning his face away, he carefully helped her sit on the sofa and pulled the rug to cover her up. It was then that she recollected he was the same man who had covered up the woman in labor and rebuked herself for even thinking that he had any evil intentions.

"I will get your room cleaned. You stay here till then." But he couldn't turn and leave, for her eyes bore a strange hapless look.

"What is it?"

His voice was soft this time as he looked at her, and without a hint of hesitation, she raised herself to her knees and started to open the buttons of his shirt. Although she struggled as the wetness and a single working hand made it difficult for her.

"Why are you so adamant?" He asked as he blocked her left hand, holding them tight in his palms.

"That's what doctors do," she said, and pushing his hand away, she opened the last button and tried to peel off his shirt.

"Wait! I will do it myself," He took out his shirt and opened the buttons at the sleeves.

"Happy now?" He said and quickly turned around to let her see his back. Her raised brows were clearly unable to reason with what she saw. No cut, no bruise, not even a line of scratch. He picked up the shirt he was about to wear, but his face twisted in confusion, seeing her rest her palm on his chest.

"Turn!" She said softly and not knowing why he silently abided.

It had been years since she saw someone bare-chested in front of her and with a torso like that in a non-medical scenario. Barrel chested with perfectly shaped abs, he didn't look like an average man, not that she ever considered him average. But the moment his broad back faced her, her face changed.

"Who did this to you?"

He stood there in solemn silence, his hands clenched and his body all tense, for this was the pain he had been hiding all along.

She didn't know what made her cry. But a silent drop of her salty tear trickled on his skin, and she saw his body twitch in response. He turned his face slightly, and she saw him watching her from the corner of his eyes.