Stranger

Stranger [Part VII]

I felt myself drift above and sink below the tumbling, angry waves of the line between reality and what felt like a deep sleep or coma for a measure of time far beyond that I could count. In those few moments where the veil of darkness had been lifted, a sickness invaded my mind and body, and I wished to return to the darkness if only to shy away from the rolling waves of pain that rocked my system past what it could ever possibly endure. Before blacking out repeatedly, my name echoed around me, tempting me, asking me, begging me to stay above the dangerous tides. I drowned every time. 

 I awoke from my finale bout of the darkness to dull, deliberate drumming thuds by my side. My eyes opened, curious to discover the source of the disturbance. Zade stood by the far poster of my bed, his head continuously falling against the wooden post before being brought up and down once more.

 "What are you doing that for?" I asked, my voice rough and painful. 



I watched as the muscles in his neck and back clenched and froze him in place, his eyes closed as his head remained glued to the post. Slowly, as though he couldn't believe that I'd spoken or even woken up to begin with, he stood up to his intimidatingly high, full stature, his piercing blue gaze never leaving mine. I felt a blush creep up my face, and looked down abruptly. It had appeared as though he wasn't simply looking at me, but rather, committing me to memory. 



"Why are you looking at me like that..?" I asked tentatively, not really intending on receiving an answer.

"You're scaring me."



He laughed incredulously, his voice strained with stress and surprise as he spoke next.


"I'm the one scaring you?" He laughed again, until finally he simply gazed at me in wonder.


"Do you have any idea what you just went through? You had a fever at a hundred and six degrees. You should have died." 


"Oh," I replied stupidly. 


"Yeah, oh, no kidding." 



We remained in silence for some time, partially because my head still throbbed and it hurt me to speak, and because neither of us knew quite what to say. While glancing down, I noticed that around my right wrist was a thinly braided rope bracelet, with the smallest traces of sweet smelling flower petals intertwined as well. 



"What is this?" I asked him while feeling brave and sitting up in my bed. He rushed forward to help me sit up, and propped my pillow up behind me before taking a few steps back. I looked at him quizzically, his facial expression letting me know he didn't understand what I was talking about. 



I brought my right wrist upward and watched him as his blue eyes quickly darted from my face, to the bracelet, then right back. 



"Oh, the bracelet...It's nothing, really..Did you notice the petals?"
 I nodded, not entirely following where he was going with this. 
He smiled gravely in return.


"The petals are from a plant known as the white hawthorn bush, and they," he paused, as if not knowing what to say next. "And they'll help you feel better," he finally finished. 



"Oh," I began. "Is it some kind of herbal remedy you know of?"


He smiled easily for the first time that day.


"Of a sort."



I nodded, and then froze. Although my fever was rapidly dissipating, and my strength returning, it was not comforting to know that I hadn't showered in a day, that my hair lay a frazzled mess around my face, and that I was still wearing my pajamas in the presence of a boy in my room that I could never match in beauty, intelligence or compassion.