•Dichotomy•
|"A division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different."|
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How many silhouettes can one trap in oneself? How many faces can a mask hide...
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These were the first words of consolation either of them had heard from him. Claude did not have time to be surprised over such a rare promise. When blood started to seep through her elbows, he made quick on his steps and got off to get something.
When he returned with a first - aid box, Alex murmured as she eyed the box.
"You promise?"
To her, it sounded very sincere, contrary to what she had expected. But she still asked to confirm.
Alexandra finally responded in a meek voice. She was being quite foolish right now, but she was also earnest. She had no choice but to submit right now. She was at his mercy after all. She could never reach home to Dani this way, he would go berserk if he knew.
She hoped that the President would also grant her a small mercy in her vulnerable state. That he would not humiliate her too.
Alexandra looked up at Claude pleadingly as he remained unresponsive to her inquiry. She shivered as he stared at her some more. His eyes raked her up and down in appreciation, wetting his lips lightly at the sight of her tear-streaked face.
Finally, Claude nodded at her in promise, making her sigh deeply in relief as she relaxed across him. He pulled himself away from her, hands digging into the box to pull out a bottle of antiseptic liquid and a little box of cotton swabs..
Alex allowed herself to remain still despite being unbounded by the his hands, watching his hands, and believing in the promise he'd take care of her. She watched as he brought the cotton dabbed in the liquid next to her forehead, and began slowly dabbing away the sweat and blood on her brow. She hissed when it stung on the stitch that bounded the incision.
Claude kept gently wiping her face.
"May I?"
His hands stopped under her chin as he asked for consent. She nodded, trusting him for just this second that she needed treatment.
He grabbed her chin gently to keep her eyes on his, when she instinctively tried to turn her head away from him. Her brown orbs shone brightly in the dimmed light. He tucked back her ear a few stray locks of her hair before fully standing up as he finished wiping the blood clean.
Alexandra watched attentively every move he made, struggling to stay still so as to not aggravate him. Claude then got off the bed as he rummaged through some of the things he had set aside, and returned with a medicine box in hand.
That's when the realisation struck her. She had been right about her intuition all along.
When Claude touched her, her body accepted it as if it was natural. She felt rather safe. Unlike the other times when men's touch caused her to flinch or overreact in anxiety often, his was uniquely reassuring and calming. Her voices stopped talking.
He then sat down by the edge of the bed, and laid it on the bedside table, before turning to her calmly.
"Show me your injuries." He gently ordered, and Alexandra immediately shook her head frantically, and began retracting her words from before...
