"You saved me Ziva. For that, I will forever be in debt to you."
"We can't Cain. I want your scent soaked into my skin and your mouth engraved to mine but I would rather see you live without me than watch you die because you're with me."
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Ca...
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Cain's POV:
"Unknown male. Roughly around age 30 I would guess. Lacerations to chest, wrists, as well as ingestion of unknown substance. 6'7, 240 pounds." The nurse spoke, her smooth voice drowning out the loud hospital chatter.
"Nurse Clarke, take care of him, it's very busy in our small ER tonight."
"We're understaffed, I apologize. It will all be okay sir, I will take good care of you."
The bright fluorescent lights are beating on my face as i'm in and out of consciousness, praying that god takes me right here and now. I am more than ready to go.
"No! No! Don't you dare close those eyes." Her voice stern and motherly as she continued to suture my wounds, my eyes shooting open immediately.
I couldn't see her through my blurred vision but I managed to open my mouth. "Please." I mumbled to her. "I know love, it hurts. I apologize." She spoke softly.
She was wrong. The stitches do not hurt, I can't feel shit. What hurts is living, it's not even physical pain. It just sucks the absolute fuck out of everything in me.
"You're drained I imagine, and tired. It hurts, but you need to feel that pain in order to come to terms with it." She spoke wrapping my arms with the ace bandages and patching up my chest.
She just...read my mind.
"All done. I'll be back in a few to ask about the chest portion of your cuts and clean them up again."
Although I absolutely hate to admit how much of a whore I am, I am very proud of my ability to squint just enough to see that perfect body that got up to walk away in those pretty pink scrubs.
How sick am I? I'm a handsome, tall ass, very toned, 28 year old who has loads of money and fucks loads of women but cant find an ounce of happiness. I attempted to kill myself after Milo got the one up on me and stabbed me a few times and i still find time to watch that perfect ass swish away.
I almost did it actually, I was almost free. From this life. This life that just keeps making me a worse and worse person. This life that requires me to feel no remorse after taking a life, after harming others. This life that is run by my father.
This life that claimed my soul.
I wanted to be done. I wanted to be free. But here I am, still in chains, tied to this business.
God clearly has other plans for me.
Hopefully, they involve miss.pretty pink scrubs.
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"Goodmorning Sir. You were knocked out yesterday." She spoke with a light, breathy giggle from the doorway. "How are you feeling love?" "Much better now that you are here." Am I really trying to win her over as soon as I wake up? How fucking horny can a man be, damn.
