|10| The promise

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His eyes tell me everything I need to know

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His eyes tell me everything I need to know. Being here, without the possibility to get out is killing him.

Carlos is used to having control, to decide over his life and the life of others, make decisions for his future because he is used to power. Power he gained working side by the side with his brother.

But now, no he was tied back by invisible ropes that wouldn't allow him to have control. And it was his own body who created that restraints. His leg, his mind. It is the first he doesn't have the ability to do everything at his own pace. He doesn't get to decide, not until he allows himself to heal.

"I hate this." He says that words out loud.

"I know, but you will pull through." I reply confidently. "And I will be here to help you."

His eyes meet mine and I see how tired he must be, from today and the last few days. He might be good at hiding what he feels but no one is able to hide forever.

"Could you help me back to bed? I'm tired."

"Of course." I push his chair away from the wall and walk to his bed. With his help I'm able to put him over it and he lays back, instantly picking up his phone and checking something. "Tomorrow you can rest, we will have the next session in two days time, with Hunter."

I want to make sure he is ready and properly rested by then. Overworking his body would only set us back rather than move forward. A slow consistent pace is better than a fast an unsteady one.

"Fine, just go." The nod he answers with makes it seem as if he hasn't listened to a word I said.

He knows but he doesn't care, he just focuses on his phone, thing that has been keeping his full attention lately and waits for me to disappear from the room so he can go back into his own little world where no one is allowed to go in except if he invites you himself.

And that gives me enough light to understand his self defense mechanism. Every time something doesn't go the way he wants it to go he closes himself off. A pretty common response and a reminder that he isn't that different from the rest of us at the end of the day.

"Call me if if you need anything." I walk to the door after giving with one last look.

If he wanted me out of his sight I will give him just that. And even if I would love to help him get better in other aspects and not just physically it's nearly impossible if he doesn't let me in.

But I won't give up just yet, I will slowly make my way through the cracks of his armor if I have to. I can't be patient.

Going up to my room I'm met with the mess I had left behind. Clothes everywhere and medical items scattered over the bed from getting the bag ready each morning. Order and control of my own space was never my thing, will never be. I enjoy living the present and the chaos that comes with it because I have grown used to a messy lifestyle. There's just three occasions when I'm organized and controlling, when I'm dancing, cooking or working. But I obviously can't live in my mess forever so every few days I tidy up and act as if I'm always in control. Fake it till you make it. It's sad how you have to look and act put together if you want to appear as an upstanding member of society.

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