$trings

17

I AWAKENED WITH A jolt, stimulated by an unexpected burst in my brain. Bright sunlight recoiled the doors to my soul, and pain kept me subtle with my movements. In actual fact, I remained still for a long while, eying the wonderful ceiling I had witnessed quite a number of times. All I could make out was navy blue, and black. At the same time, the dangerous smell of a man comforted my nostrils. Whilst subconsciously, gently, cuddling the spreads over my chest, I pinned my ears on the only sound here: The sound of nothing.

I was in Carlos' room, in his glorious bed. That insight came as a haze. It made me smile, but what had happened to bring me here wiped the smile away.

"You're awake."

I looked from the ceiling to the voice; to the east of the room where his desk lived. And Carlos himself shifted from the wall and gently came to sit next to me. He had no grin when he took up my left hand. "How are you feeling?" He whispered the question.

With a groan I never thought I would make, I lifted the blanket. Beneath it, my bare abdomen was bandaged.

"Why am I half-naked?" I muttered. My voice was empty, my tone dry. I imagined myself looking horrible.

My man laughed quietly and kissed my hand, and he blinked long at the contact. His expression was at ease in that moment; it eased me.

"Your clothes were bloody," he murmured after a while.

"Did you undress me?" That was the only thing I thought to ask, for I was shy.

"Ye, baby," he said, scanning my face, then my eyes. "But don't worry." He smirked. "I didn't remove your underwear."

I found it funny, the way he said it; it made me laugh, but pain kept my laugh elusive. After my moment of laughter, in which the man simply stared at me with spangled eyes, I sighed and shifted to sit up. He helped me immediately. He was staring at me again when I was raised. I asked him what. He shrugged. I asked him what again, more persistently. And he said he missed me. Said I had been out for a day.

I considered my parents first. What would mama think? And the double date? – had I actually missed that... "What happened to the date?" I murmured.

"I cancelled," he told me.

"Did you tell them...?" I inquired. Them being my parents.

He knew. "No." That relieved me, for some reason. "But they been tryna reach you."

I shifted to get up, to go home, but Carlos held me down. I was a wounded worm, struggling to wriggle into hard ground through agony. Nevertheless, I gave up, and Carlos let go of me. "You can't go," he hissed.

"Why?" I was confused. "My fricken parents are looking for me!"

"You can't walk... When you get home, what you gone tell em?"

"That I got shot at a bank."

"No..." He swayed forward. His knees were bent on my legs. "No, your parents won't ever trust me again."

"They definitely won't trust you if you don't let me go home now."

He huffed his dissatisfaction, but he passed me dried, clean clothes and allowed me to dress.

It took me a while to clothe. When I was done, I saw Carlos was gazing at me all over again. What a weird guy. Weird boyfriend, I mean. I gazed back at him. He sat down next to me at the base of his bed after a moment of us having a stare-down.

"Let me guess," I spoke the moment he was perched basically on top of me, "the bank manager didn't give a damn about any supposed casualties, so she gave you a bunch of money to find your way to the hospital with your mouth sealed shut. Then, you decided to keep the money for something else and treat me by yourself...?"