Patient B-2

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Avalyn

 His eyes meet mine and he narrows his brows. "What? No, I mean for what happened when you bit me. It wasn't fair. You should have got to finish too."

 Finish... what?

 "Okay, I'm lost," I confess with a nervous snicker, the sound escaping awkwardly as his finger continues its tantalizing descent.

 Sitting with my legs crossed, the tension in the room becomes palpable, urging me to flee, to shield myself from embarrassment by covering my face and hastily snapping my legs shut. Instead, I remain rooted in place, intrigued, to say the least, and unable to tear my gaze away as he draws nearer. His finger bends, knuckle pressing against my covered clit before slipping four fingers beneath the fabric and gripping it tightly in his hand.

 "Is this okay?" he asks.

 I bite down on my lip, sucking in a deep breath to steady my nerves. Uncertainty swirls within me as I try to decipher his intentions. If we weren't constrained by time, I'd likely be eagerly nodding along, but the urgency of our situation keeps me grounded.

 As he tugs on the material, inching closer to where I secretly want him to be, the time limit momentarily fades from my mind. "I don't remember much after you bit me," I admit awkwardly, my gaze locked on his face. "It's all a bit of a blur."

 He releases the fabric abruptly, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. "You don't remember?" he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief.

 I shake my head, furrowing my brows in confusion. His expression shifts to one of mortification, and I can't shake the feeling that I've somehow misstepped. "Did something happen?"

 His face flushes an even deeper shade of red, and his hands retreat, settling instead on my thighs and squeezing tight. I almost flinch at the unexpected pressure, but manage to suppress the reaction. "I... uh. I mean we... or I—" he stammers, his words stumbling out. "We almost kissed,'' his words spill out in a rushed stream, so rapid they almost blend together.

 My eyes widen as the meaning registers in my mind. "No," I shake my head firmly. "No, we did not."

 "Oh..." he exhales heavily, disappointment clouding his expression.

 Quickly realizing the impact of my response, I scramble to amend it. "I mean... I just don't remember that," I interject hastily, hoping to alleviate his disappointment.

 As everything remains a blur, I can't shake the feeling that I would have remembered if we almost kissed. Besides, the vivid memory of being strapped to a medical table with a doctor looming over us makes the notion seem utterly implausible. How could such a moment have transpired in that setting? The mere thought leaves me feeling anxious and perplexed. Perhaps he himself is confused, concocting the idea in his disoriented state of mind. But then again, he appeared to be more conscious than I was during that time.

 My cheeks flush instantly, mirroring his own heated expression. "I might have convinced myself it was happening. I was on a lot of drugs," he confesses sheepishly, his nervousness evident as he chews on his lips. "I sometimes make up scenarios in my head. I'm likely confused."

 I suppress the urge to laugh at his words, sensing the gravity of the situation. His earnestness makes me hesitant to make light of the situation, especially considering the potential impact on his feelings. Instead, I opt for a more understanding approach. "That's okay. You don't need to be embarrassed. But... do these scenarios usually involve you kissing me?" I inquire gently, hoping to gain further insight into his thoughts and feelings.

 He purses his lips, his eyes wandering for a moment before he nods. "Mostly. Sometimes it's just us holding hands and sleeping. I can't shake this image of lying in a real bed. And you're always there..." His voice trails off, then he meets my gaze again, a hint of curiosity coloring his words. "Are beds nowadays better than what they used to be?"

 I can't hold back the laughter that bubbles up within me. It echoes through the room, drawing a frown from him. I instantly recognize that I've embarrassed him further, but the laughter refuses to subside. He probably thinks I'm mocking him, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I find it incredibly endearing that he imagines scenarios with me. It's romantic in its own way, even if it's a bit delusional.

 "No, no, I'm sorry," I manage to speak through my giggles. "That's genuinely sweet, Aren. Seriously, I think it's adorable that you daydream about me."

 His frown lingers, but he finally meets my gaze. "Are you being sarcastic with me?" he asks, giving my thighs another squeeze.

 I shake my head, my smile threatening to reach my ears. "No, not at all. I like that you think about kissing me." The words spill from my lips without a second thought, surprising even myself with how effortlessly they emerge. My astonishment reflects in his eyes as we lock gazes, a moment of shared surprise hanging between us.

 He seems to lean even further into the bars, his hands kneading at my thighs almost instinctively, as if seeking solace in the touch. His face is flushed with embarrassment, his nervousness palpable as his body trembles slightly. His words come out in a soft whisper, barely audible. "I really want to kiss you."

 I smile softly, nodding in understanding as I lean forward. "You can kiss me... but we need to get out of here first."

 He tilts his head in confusion, momentarily pouting before swiftly dropping the expression. With a roll of his eyes, he pulls back, his tone taking on a hint of sass. "So never?" he quips, his gaze fixating on the wall.

 "Actually, I was hoping we could leave tonight," I assert matter-of-factly.

 His eyes snap back to me, skepticism evident in his expression. "Your blood gave me strength. If I could just get enough to feel right, I think we could make our escape. Tomorrow, the headman is scheduled to visit, and the doctors intend to disclose their discovery to him. That can't happen, Aren. We have to leave tonight."

 "Go? Both of us?" he echoes, his confusion evident.

 I seize his hands, still resting on my thighs, and intertwine our fingers, bringing them to rest against my chest. "Yes, both of us," I affirm. "But I'll need your blood."

//

it's happening :))