Sacred Scars (Book I)

He Stayed

     The golden light of morning fingered through the windows warming Lilah's cheek masking her tired eyes. She lay on the soft sheet with her face turned to the pillow. Her stomach stretched across the bed beneath the satin of the emerald gown, soaking in the soft velvety feel of it. Unconsciously, she reached for the man who had saved her, finding only empty space heated by the splintering sunlight. He was gone. A frown pulled at her mouth which she could now see in the dresser mirror just beside her. The blood that had stained her cheek and lip were gone. Wiped clean sometime during the night by the stranger she supposed. A smile touched her lips. She rolled on her side pulling the pillow more comfortably under her head and took a second pillow in her arms to hold. She hugged the downy lump against her, burying her face within its softness. He said his name was John. She wondered if she would ever see him again. They always left though. Any of the Joe's that stayed the night. Always gone right after or even before she woke in the morning. They never stayed. The lids of her eyes closed in exhaustion and sadness. Or was it loneliness? She could never tell.

     From behind her the door creaked open. Inside walked the stranger, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. When she sat up to meet his eyes, he offered up a pleased smile. "Mornin' ma'am.," those feathery tones of gravel whispered over her. He set the two cups on the nightstand where his pistol had laid the night before. Long arms reached for the chair once propped by the door and dragged it with a squeal to the side of her bed. Lilah watched all this open mouthed as he plopped down matter-of-factly in the chair and took one steaming cup of brew and lifted it to his lips. He blew the steam from the swirling liquid setting the tin cup carefully to his bottom lip to sip its nurturing contents. "Coffee?," he finally asked when she hadn't so much as blinked at his return. "You...you stayed?" The question was one of disbelief, confusion.

     Marston took another sip of the coffee, set it down on the table, and leaned over, elbows to his knees looking up at her. "Well,..yeah. That so hard to believe?" She nodded, her mouth still open a little in awe. A soft chuckle brushed past his lips hitting her ear like warm honey. "Girl, that bastard musta really hit you hard." He took the other cup and stood sitting beside her on the bed. When she just watched him motionless, he reached down and took one of her little hands in his and wrapped her slender fingers under his palm around the cup of comfort. "Drink this, you'll feel better." She went through the motions, lifting the cup to her mouth and taking in a big sip still watching him under her eyes. The hot liquid singed her mouth, and she started blinking back to her surroundings from the sudden spark of pain. "Whoa whoa... easy now miss, it's very hot. Here." He took the cup from her quickly, taking the bandana from around his neck and wiping the muddy liquid from her hand and mouth gently. "Th-thank you. I mean..for last night. Thank you." She managed to finally find her voice. He smirked sideways at her, tying the bandana back around his neck. The tilt of his hat just covered his blushing eyes. "Aww it won't no problem. I ain't much for the bullying sort. You need to be careful ma'am. Sa dangerous job you're doin. Just be aware, ok?" She nodded not really knowing what else she could say. Again, a soft thumb raised and traced the tiny scar across her cheek where the evil man had left his mark as he promised. "You're way to pretty miss, to be doing any of this. I hope..." he paused uncertainly. "I hope you find your way out before something happens to ya. Beauty round here is so very rare." She felt her face heat and blush under his thumb.

      He lifted then, leaving the coffee for her, and walked toward the door. With a last, almost sad look, he locked her eyes with his again. "See you again soon I hope, Miss Preston." She nodded silently once more, and watched as he walked through the door, tipping his hat between the open crack, and quietly closed it behind him.

      Lilah took the coffee to her lips again, staring into nothing over its ghostly steam. In her heart she wished this were a dream. If it were, she wouldn't have to wake up. She could stay in that moment forever with the rippled skin of his worried thumb grazing across her cheek. She touched her fingers to where he had traced, still feeling his hand there. She missed the touch of him already.

*Arthor's note* This story reflects on the rd world but is not canon. Please feel free to comment I would love to hear for all of you, as I am new to this. Vote, enjoy, and walk with John. :) Thanks to all that read.