Thirty one

Breathing through the pain, and the bubbling anger, " It is none of your business," I say through greeted teeth, and open my eyes to glare at him.

" It is my business when you decide to go out with one of my friends," He seethes and lets go of my hands rather forcefully.

" He asked me out and I accepted," I bite back, Mason scowls at me, and scoffs.

Whatever he was thinking of saying, changed in a split second," I suppose, going for second best is one of your go-to moves," My blood is boiling at that remark until I feel it flowing through me, it was not the usual steady flow. It comes in a rush, lighting my blood on fire, igniting every cell at a molecular level with incandescent heat, in a way I didn't think it is possible. It is so strong, that is overwhelming, stealing my breath away, and at the same time, I feel every ounce of life force draining out of me.

Suddenly everything turns black. There is no drifting into unconsciousness. It is so sudden, very much like switching the lights off.

I think I died.

When I come to, dawn is creeping up over Morston. I'm in my room and the smell of tea wafts through the air. I'm not alone, Mason is here with me. Did he even go home?

The floorboards creak under his weight as he prowels towards the bed, and eventually comes in my line of sight.

Everything hurts, to the point that I can't even move my eyeballs without wincing in pain, but when I do that, that hurts too. Son of a bitch.

What just happened?

Mason studies me with a curious eye, very much like a newly discovered species, trying to find a way to describe me.

When I try to speak, I find that my throat is so dry, and my mouth feels like I've chewed on shards of glass just for the fun of it. My jaw is locked tight.

" You died," He says flatly, examining me with his eyes," You're heart stopped for a few minutes...," His voice trails off," It took me a while to get it beating again," He sounds and looks guilty, but also repentant.

" I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen...," I want to speak but I can't even even unclench my jaw.

He vanishes, and reappears holding a cup, with a straw sticking out, and places it on the small table beside the bed. It is not exactly a bedside table. It is a wooden box, made out of shingles, barely held together by a few nails. I'd like to take credit and say that I've made it but, I have not.

Gently, he helps me up to sit on the bed, propping me against the headboard with two pillows. For some reason, I remember when Enid passed out in front of me for the first time, I worked myself up in a tizzy. I was so frantic that I couldn't tell my left from my right.

Mason seems unaffected as if this happens on a daily basis. People just fall at his feet.

He brings the cup to my lips and forces the straw through my lips," Drink," I don't know why he thinks that saying it, just make it happen.

I don't understand why my body refuses to cooperate with me. This never happened before. Once again I'm in uncharted territory.

With a heavy sigh, Mason drops his head and pulls the cup from my lips, " This is bad," He says under his breath, and I'm not really sure whether he is worried about my well-being or what would happen to him if I die on his watch. But then again, nobody knows that he is here with me, so probably nothing.

" At least, I've managed to shut you up," He says as he raises his head to look at me, with a small smile on his lips. I suppose that's one way to do it.

I blink slowly in response, but I regret that decision almost immediately because it feels as if someone has stuck a thousand needles into my eyeballs at once. This is getting better and better by the minute.

I can't feel my limbs, I can't feel anything really other than pain. I've gone from one extreme to another.

Lucky me.

" I think your body has shut down to protect you when you absorbed more than you can channel. Why would you do that?" Of course, it is my fault. I did it on purpose.

I would strangle him and then set him on fire, only if I could move.

Shaking his head, he amends, " Never mind. We will talk once you recover," He says in a slightly gentler tone, and rises off the bed, to go to the kitchen.

" You only have a shower in here, but I think a bath will do you some good. Your muscles seem to have seized at the moment. I can't carry you all the way home through this snow. So, I'll take you to Graham's for the time being," His back is to me, and I can't see his face but I see him packing my bag. Packing is an exaggeration because at this moment he is just randomly throwing stuff in without a care for my personal belongings.

The bag lands on the floor with a thud, while Mason pulls his suit jacket on, and then the woollen coat,picks up my bag and saunters back to me.

Clutching my bag in his hands, he lowers himself on the bed, and gives me a cursory look," Blink if that is something you want me to do," He says quietly, and I blink in response enduring the sharp pain singing my eyes and my eyelids.

This is fucking awful. I hate every second of it. Not just the pain, or being helpless. The fact that Mason is the one who has to look after me in a moment of weakness. I've finally hit rock bottom.