MADMAN'S HAVEN

30

We laid together in the small, hard bed. None of us said a word, all we did was looking deeply into each other's eyes as our foreheads were carefully touching. Brandon's right hand was placed over my hip, while his left held mine in an indemnifying way.

The silence allowed me to progress the earlier trauma, and in Brandon's arms everything seemed so much easier.

It was a mad fact that he was like a psychiatrist to me, when it was supposed to be the complete opposite way. It was so surrealistic that it got hilarious. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry about it. But still, I found myself accepting the illusive situation as so many times before, and allowed myself to think about it as something beautiful and peculiar instead. I need him as much as he needed me, and if we could fulfil each other with every personal need, I couldn't help but think about that as something precious.

We shared something that probably no other nurse and patient ever had, and that was something unique itself. Just because it was so extremely forbidden, no one could ever change the way we felt towards each other, because emotions were something uncontrollable for every individual human being.

Even if I was supposed to do something about my emotions, and try to repress them a long time ago, that was too late now. And since Brandon was forced into my care again, there was not much I could do about it now anyways, and I accepted that faith...

I knew that I would have to leave him any minute now, but every second mattered to me in this moment of suppression. Every part of my body still hurt from physical pain, and my head pounded from all the tears.

Carefully I laid my hand onto Brandon's cold cheek and softly placed a kiss on his lips.

"I have to go," I said.

I was terrified of leaving the cellar and heading out to the corridors filled with danger again, but I had no other choice. I had a job to do.

Brandon kissed me again to give me one last assurance of safety.

"I know," He responded.

"Let me help you up,"

He grabbed my hand and helped me with stabilizing my feeble legs. Even if I wasn't as weak as he treated me to be, his thoughtful way of taking care of me made my heart warm.

I wrapped my arms around his neck to finish this special session of ours. It was hard for me to let go, since I knew what was waiting outside the heavy iron door. Brandon's hands perfectly placed my waist as our tongues danced in the most wonderful rhythm. The chemistry brought me to shivers and my heart no longer pounded from heavy fright. He made me feel settled again, at least for a little while.

"I'll see you in the common room, okay? I promise I'll be as close to you as I can at any time," He remarked after separating our lips.

I nodded my head and looked him in the eyes to convince myself how eager he was about protecting me in every way he possibly could. He genuinely cared about me, for real.

"As long as you're near, I feel safe," I said back.

"Good, because to be near you is the only thing I want,"

My heart melted as so many times before as I listened to his romantic speaking. My cheeks flared and I couldn't help but smirk for myself as I turned my back at him to leave the room.

Once again I was back into the heavy addictive affection. All my senses were clearer, all my nerves were exuberant and all my emotions were settled in the most fluid way. It was so bizarre all of it. It felt strange to not suddenly feel the abstinence after morphine or anodynes anymore, not to feel completely lost or lonely anymore.

Once again I was contented, just like a couple of months ago before hell broke loose. I started to recognize myself again, I was stable and strong in mentality, not even Donald succeeded with tearing me down, because I had Brandon.

Even if I had been rejected, threatened for my life, and cut open to bleed by the glorious devil himself, he still got me fulfilled only with his maleficent way of existing...

The rest of the day was painful to spend inside the hospital walls. All I wanted was to get home and lock myself inside my apartment.

The only thing that kept me safe in my home was the locker on the door, otherwise, there was nothing keeping the predator from haunting me down and hurt me again.

My secure home was in fact nothing compared to Brandon's embracing arms of protection. I knew he would do anything in his power to keep anyone from hurting me, and I knew that since I was so deeply aware of what he was capable of from his earlier actions of strong overprotectiveness and even revenge.

There was nothing or no one I had to be afraid of as long as I stayed close to him, and I was grateful for that.

The following days were passing by without any sight of Donald. He was not seen by the entrance, nor walking around in the hallways. I guess he kept his distance after the damage he already caused. Probably he figured it was for his own best to stay away from my sight, because if someone would witness my reaction to his presence, they could get suspicious, and I knew that was the last thing Donald wanted.

Every morning I had to run out of bed to release my body from the repeating nightmares and throw up every bit of it, and then flush it down the drain where it all belonged.

It was exhausting. My throat was aching from heartburn, and my voice slowly started to sound hoarse due to my sore tongue and acid-burned vocal cords.

Somehow I was still sick, even if I felt perfectly healthy.