𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔

PART FIFTEEN

Inside, a large bed with dark covers the colour of cedar sat against the right hand wall, two tables either side of it with giant lamps on top. Other chests of drawers were here and there, trying to fill up the space of the room, with mirrors over two metres tall dotted above them. The owner of the room had it styled this way to represent his religion and piety; no matter how grand or magnificent the room, you are no exception to the Lord's judgement. Eugene dropped me off at the walnut-shaded settee at the end of the bed, clearly unveiling his own discomfort to being so mobile in such immersed clothes. He had been many times and, like with his stained hands, no longer bothered with trying alternatives - but that didn't mean he couldn't show his irritation.

"There's gotta be some somewhere..." The medic whispered to himself, searching through the multiple cupboards in the room.

When I next looked at him, layers of fleeces and blankets sat in his palms. He crashed them onto the bed, shaking them out so they all lay flat on the duvet. With another thought in mind, he pivoted, opening a door on the far left. After another few minutes of movement, hectic gatherings, he stood still, hands on his hips. He explained all he had done; the sheets, the curtains, the windows.

"I gotta go check on your brother." He finished with. "The drip I gave him can easily clot, it ain't the best but it's what we've got. There's a, uh," He glimpsed briefly over his shoulder. "A bathroom in there. Maybe have a shower, get out of those wet clothes - it'll only make you colder. I won't be gone too long - there's locks on both of the doors."

I nodded, forcing every capability in me to say: "Thank you."

He flickered a smile, "All right."

My eyes caved into the burning, giving way for streams to divide my cheeks. Eugene's expression changed, his body immediately moving forward.

"What's wrong? Is something wrong?"

I shook my head. "I'm just- It has been a long time since someone has put this much effort into me."

"I see..." He muttered. "I personally think you deserve a lot more than this. I think a lady like you should always be treated like this."

I gushed a little, "You're only saying that-"

"Yes, I am doing a service. But it ain't just because of last night or your hand or my good heart. It don't matter the reason. I just need you to get better, all right? Can you do that?"

I bobbed my head. Slowly, I walked to the ensuite bathroom, cradling my elbows. Taking one last look at Eugene, I closed the door, pivoting towards a mirror which touched the roof. Layered in bits of curved gold, it sat, judgemental. I glared at my own face, at my cheekbones. My dark hair stuck to my face and I brushed them out of the way until another thought collected in my mind.

"Eugene!" I beckoned, face crumpled and red.

At first there was nothing and so I yelled again.

"Valentina?" A quizzical voice answered.

"I..." I hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I need your assistance."

If only my grandmother could see me now; I could hear the comments at the back of my head. She had spent so long teaching me to be the exact opposite of how I was reacting. Even conversing with the opposite sex, in her opinion, was like giving up your virtue.

Almost like I could hear his brows furrowing, he said, "C-Can I come in?"

My fingers wrapped around the doorknob and turned. Eugene hovered half a metre away, not sure what he was about to see. Pathetically, I faced away, motioning a finger behind my back and to the buttons at the top of my dress. A few lifeless seconds passed, and for a split moment I thought he wouldn't, but then his fingertips brushed against my spine. They weren’t cold like I had expected them to be, rather warm - the temperature of a room-insulated cup of coffee.