MADMAN'S HAVEN

42

"When's the time?" Brandon inquired as he traced a loop of hair behind my ear.

I smiled at his gentle graze and carefully pecked his still swollen lips.

"Tomorrow morning, after the rounds," I responded with joy. I was looking forward to take Brandon outside again, he had been isolated for so long now, and he truly deserved it with the way he had been acting recently.

Yet there was not much I could provide him with in here, no matter how much I wanted to surprise him all the time. I couldn't bring him stuff, no wanted things or other wishes, and I couldn't treat him differently from the other patients since I wanted to avoid any chance of getting someone suspicious.

"Can't wait," He murmured, and slowly started tracking his lips down my neck. I giggled as I folded my head down my shoulder, but Brandon didn't hesitate to stop.

"Maybe we could relive that one time in the shed?" He purred against my skin, carefully bit the thin surface which made my stomach curl up and cast shivers all over my body.

Once again I whiffed out in a giggle, completely abashed by his dirty suggestion.

"You dream on, Brandon. Tomorrow is all about you filling your lungs with fresh oxygen," I stated, talking back to him like I was his mother.

A sigh left through his nostrils as he looked up at me again, this time grazing his lips against my own.

"You're my oxygen," He besomed before embracing his mouth around mine. A bolt struck through my body as his words fondled my eardrums, and even though we just shared a moment of love, I was already longing for another.

"You're killing me," I proclaimed through a smile, making our teeth meet and turning the kiss into a hot mess.

"That would be a pity," He remarked, smiled back and looked deeply into my eyes to assure me his words were real.

I laughed softly by the flatter. Brandon was in an unusually good mood today, filled with play and compliments. He already knew he only had to look at me to make me weak, but evidently, he felt the need to make it all worse for today.

One last time I cupped his face into my cold hands, and smiled kindly at him.

"I have to go now," Grumbling the true words, I destroyed the moment between us and Brandon's eyes turned into the regular colour of zero emotions.

"I don't want you to," He said, wearing his empty expression.

"I know, me neither," I stated, and took one last look inside the hypnotizing umber stones in front of me before slowly turning my back at Brandon.

Every time I left him there was this physical force grabbing onto me, making me feel like a magnet being pulled off of the attracted pole. It was painful, and it made me feel lonely, like a piece of me was missing.

The feeling was not unfamiliar, but never before did it reach onto me with the same effect as now.

He was my morphine, the substance that made me cope and keep living no matter all the dreadful crap that happened to me.

The remaining hours of work were spent in the gathering room in the company of my three favourite colleagues.

Everything about this day was just filled with delight. The atmosphere was bright, the girls were all snickering, and the patients were unusually calm and satisfied with their activities.

Even the jukebox was playing today, which wasn't very regular. It meant that the majority of the patients voted for the box to chirrup.

(🎶 Sweet Little Sixteen - Chuck Berry)

I rocked my shoulders along with Mildred and Janet who were seated by my side on the brown sofa, enjoyed the sound of Chuck Berry's cheerful voice as his new billboard hit filled the room with amusement. Harriet did the same from where she sat in one of the armchairs right beside us.

We snapped our fingers in rate with the music, clapped our hands to exult the few patients stepping over the wooden floor in clumsy dance moves. Spinning and jumping, even smiling, they all suddenly appeared so healthy and innocent, like there was nothing in the world bothering them. It was heartwarming, for once inside these otherwise cold and tragic hospital walls.

An old, probably demented man waltzed in our direction, stopped right in front of Harriet before he bent over and rolled his arm forward like a gentleman.

"My dear, shall we dance?" He proposed in his proper position, and Harriet couldn't do else but smile gently.

She grabbed the old man's hand, and I immediately understood this was one of her own patients.

"Of course, Ernest," She replied, and followed his slow footsteps to the claimed dance floor.

The rest of us watched and cheered along as she traced over the floor, led by the very old, probably experienced man. It was beautiful, yet there was a feeling of grief reaching my heart by the vision.

In a couple of hours only, this man would probably walk around the hallways of the open ward, call and search for someone who was no longer in life.

The thought was heartbreaking, and I had to clear my throat to keep the tears behind my eyes. I needed to stay in the present, share the joy with the patients since they themselves had no idea that this would ever be over.

Just like every other nurse and guardsman in here, I owed them a smile.