57. Goddamn Fucking Moron!

57. Goddamn Fucking Moron!
DAY THREE

Cold. 

I feel cold, heavy, and numb.

My eyes open and stare at the documentary of whales playing on the TV.

Pain pulsates through my skull like bullets while my bones feel stiff and icy frozen, in an uncomfortable position.

What the hell!

My neck is tilted awkwardly, my fingers wrinkled like an old man while my entire lower body is submerged in water.

I realise I was lying in a bathtub. 

I jerk up and wide awake by the sudden realisation. The water rock violently around me, spilling down and splattering on the bathroom floor.

How the hell did I even get here?

I glance at my watch to check the time, but it blinks with a warning of sudden body temperature dropping to 35.2°C.

Damn it!

Grabbing the edges of the bathtub, I push myself up. My soaked clothes cling to my skin like an ice-wrap and I thither with cold. My knees buckle slightly and I grab the sink for support.

How come I slept in the middle of a bath? Fully dressed?

My chest rattles with a sneeze as I stumble to the closet, ripping off the wet clothes and grabbing some warm slacks.

As I wear them on, a vision of Emara sitting on my lap slices through me like a sudden slap.

I freeze half-dressed. What was that?

Flashes hit me in fragments of me feeding her, talking and drinking wine with her. Then she looking into my eyes, and feeling me with her delicate hands as she whispers..

‘I want you to touch me, Dakota.. Make me yours.’ 

I pause mid-button, my breath catches in my throat as all the memories slam into me all at once.

Emara boldly making me touch her, her soft fingers pulling mine, her flushed cheeks as she untied her dress, her thighs parting for me, and begging me to touch her.

She wanted me.

And what did I do? 

I did nothing!

I just stood there like a malfunctioning robot, paranoid and paralyzed. Because the voices in my head told me she laced herself with cyanide to kill me, and I believed it. 

You fool!

I clench my jaw and run a hand through my damp hair as regret snakes down my spine.

“What the fuck was I thinking?” I growl in the room. “Goddamn fucking moron!”

For once, she wanted me. She begged me touch her, kiss her. Make her mine. 

And I fucking thought she was a Nazi spy, who wanted to poison me.

What a dumb idiot I am!

I sneeze again, my body shivers with cold and frustration. I yank open the medicine cabinet to grab a paracetamol and swallow it dry. 

My chest rises in heavy bursts, and I lean over the sink as suddenly, I see a hallucination of Emara on her knees. 

She is crying and looking up at me with a broken gaze, while I am.. touching her lips.

When did this happen?

I shut my eyes, trying to rewind the hallucination, but there is nothing else. As if my memories are painted black and I only see blackness. 

That means.. Those aren’t my memories.

It’s his. Fuck!

My knuckles turn pale as I grip the counter, holding my anger. My chest tightens and skin burns with fury.

How dare he hurt her!

And how come I lost control to him again?

I shove myself away from the sink and walk out of my room, to reach hers. I stop by her door and glance at my watch, looking at her biometric data that I paired with mine.

Heart Rate: 58 bpm

She is in deep sleep.

My fingers hover over the doorknob. Guilt burps in me for what my other side must have done to her.

I need to see her.

Make sure she is okay.

And slowly, I push the door open.

Warm lights spill across the room as I enter in. My gaze instinctively crawls towards the bed and the moment I see her, my heart stops.

Emara is curled on the bed, all naked and fragile like a forgotten porcelain doll in the dark.

I shut the door gently behind me, and with soft footsteps, I cross the distance to her in four strides. I feel a painful clench in my chest as I see her condition clearly.

Coiled around the pillow like a small baby, her skin is pale as ice, soaked lashes clinging to her corner of her eyes and her hair, a tangle mess of wet ropes spread across the bed.

“Shit!” I breathe, reaching to her in two panicked heartbeats as I realise she is shivering with cold.

“God! Emara.” I yank off my sweatshirt and wrap around her damped hair, squeezing out as much water as I could.

I can’t believe I left her like this!

Not me, him. But what difference it makes?

I rush to the bathroom to get the dryer, but then my feet splash against cold water. I glance down and see messy pool of droplets across the floor.

Her DIY bedsheet dress lies crumpled in the shower like it has been ripped off and thrown away. And then the vision hits me again.

Emara on her knees on these cold floors and looking up at me with broken teary gaze, because I did something to her.

“Fuck!” My fist curls and my jaw clenches in anger.

I don’t know if I am mad at myself or that part of me that wore my skin and hurt her, then stood there watching her cry with satisfaction.

I snatch the hair dryer from the shelf and storm back to the girl who begged me to touch her.

“Emara..” I whisper her name, but she doesn’t move. Still curled around the pillow like a small girl.

The whirr of the machine fills the silence as I plug the dryer and gently blow warm air across her wet strands.

“Why would you sleep like this?” I whisper angrily, not at her but at the thought of her catching cold. 

“Silly girl! How could you sleep in wet hair? You could have gotten sick.” I murmur, carefully tangling her damp strands in my fingers as I comb through them softly.

But deep down I know, her current condition is because of me.

“This is my fault.” I mumble, brushing a loose strand of hair off her cheek. I see a faint, salty dried trail of tears under her eyes and something cracks in me.

It is all my fault!

If only I had slept early.. If I had not listened to him.. If I had been in control, none of this would have happened.

“I am sorry, baby.” I whisper, leaning down to her cheeks. “I am so fucking sorry.” 

My lips caress her cheek in a soft kiss, just then my chest flutters with a million feelings, and I know I can’t no more deny that I am in love with this girl.

She is the only girl I have ever truly wanted. The only one I ever imagined dating, holding, kissing. 

And I ruined it.

My lungs do a deep sigh as I want to kiss again so badly. My eyes never leave her, even though I don’t deserve to look at her. 

But God.. I still want her.

So badly, it hurts.