The Neverseen's Last Resort

62

Sophie

All was dark, and all was quiet as Sophie nestled into the cot, the thin blanket doing little to warm her. She shivered a little, but she'd survive. The boy, whose name remained unknown thanks to Sophie's fear of asking, had chosen the farthest cot from her. She wouldn't lie. It had hurt a little when she'd first learned how far away he'd be sleeping. Was he avoiding her because she'd hurt him? He'd promised countless times that she hadn't harmed him in any way, but... His actions said otherwise. Was he afraid of her? Upset with her? 

These thoughts plagued her, keeping her from getting any sleep. Her eyes found a small picture hanging above another cot, closer to the door. It was of a young girl wearing a ridiculous brown costume of sorts. Was that of her? When had that been put up? Her thoughts quieted as the sound of footsteps nearing sounded, stopping above her. Sophie froze, though unable to stop her shivering. Seconds passed, and she wondered what was going on until she heard a flapping, and another fabric fell across her, sealing in the warmth and blocking out the cold. 

Peeking one eye open, Sophie saw that it was a cape. It was his cape. She withheld a gasp, realizing the footsteps had not yet sounded going away. For moments, she felt the boy watching her. And then, in the smallest of whispers, he whispered, "Night, Foster." And the footsteps receded back to their own cot. For minutes, Sophie didn't breathe, afraid she'd somehow accidentally tell the boy she wasn't asleep. More minutes passed, and Sophie could hear the faint breathing of the boy, asleep. She relaxed, her head growing dizzy with exhaustion and her eyelids turning heavy. Then, she was asleep. 

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"She's still recovering!"

"She's my responsibility!"

"She's not even awake!" 

The arguing went back and forth, and Sophie pressed her pillow to her ears in hopes it would muffle the noise. The voices broke through the fluffy barrier and didn't help in the slightest. 

Only when another voice entered the conversation did Sophie allow the people to know she was awake. 

"Can we give her one more hour? Yesterday was exhausting for all of us." Sophie's eyes snapped open at the sound of the blonde's voice, and when she rolled onto her back, she found three people in the middle of a heated argument. The woman noticed her first, and Sophie realized it was the doctor woman who had treated her the night prior. 

"Oh, good morning, Sophie," she offered a warm smile, and Sophie did her best to return it. All eyes were on her now, carefully watching her every move as though she were a ticking time bomb. The blonde went to speak next, opening his mouth to say one thing, before settling on another. 

"Sophie," he smiled, "you're awake." Sophie nodded, rubbing her eyes and tucking her hair behind her ears. 

"Was I out long?" she asked, her voice scratchy against her throat.

"Surprisingly, it's only twelve, Miss Foster." 

Something in the back of Sophie's mind tingled. Recognition. She knew that voice. And that title. Sophie turned to find an older looking man with weary eyes and a grimace of a smile. Her eyes didn't leave him, straining to remember him. It felt as her brain were splitting in two, the one side bringing the swan image to the front of her mind. While the other, brought an entirely new image to mind: a bright blue flower made of what looked like silk. It glittered in a dim light, the source unknown, and contained a fog-like purple pollen. 

"Mr. Sencen has informed me of your condition," the man continued. "So don't worry about answering any questions... for now." The blonde boy, "Mr. Sencen", shot the elderly man a scowl, though the old man shrugged in response. She knew, what she assumed was his, last name, but she couldn't call him "Mr. Sencen". So, she kept to calling him "blonde boy". Maybe "blondie" would be easier? The idea brought another image to mind, fuzzy and unidentifiable. But she distinctly remembered pink hair.