My Boyfriend is a Horny Prince

FORTY-ONE

* * *

It's been a month since I woke up from my coma. I have been adjusting quite well, feeling more and more comfortable with dad, my step-dad, my little sister, and my friends. I was a little bit sad that I failed no matter how I tried to remember them but I was very blessed that it didn't matter to them and never pressured me to. They tried to fill me in with my past as much as they could but I'm happy it didn't matter regardless as long as I was alive and awake.

After all, being in a vegetative state for more than four years is not easy. I for myself was surprised so I was even more grateful that my family and friends didn't give up on me all these years. Of course there was still a bit of awkwardness but overall, I was very comfortable and content. All my fear disappeared and honestly, I don't feel like remembering my past was even necessary to some extent.

However, there was just one thing I'm really curious about or rather worried about.

"Dad, did you visit my room last night?" I asked curiously. I didn't know when it started but since a week ago, I could always feel a presence beside me when I fall asleep for the night. At first, it didn't really bother me because the presence didn't seem uncomfortable—it was actually rather soothing?—but last night, I felt someone's hand touch my face and for some reason my whole body tingled as if electricity traveled through my skin from the warm and gentle touch.

It felt familiar but at the same time not. It's weird but I couldn't open my eyes at the same time.

"No. Why?" Dad replied but at the same time, his expression looked like he knew something. But then again, that could just be me imagining it so I just nodded and turned my eyes back to the beautiful garden. I've been undergoing physical therapy for two weeks now but it's still quite difficult for me to stand on my own so I'm sitting on my wheelchair while enjoying my snack for today. Visiting the garden had been part of my routine ever since I was allowed out of the bed and it was really helping me a lot, just that today I couldn't help but think about last night.

"Nothing..." I replied, putting my lips together forming a straight line. Subconsciously, my hand traveled all the way back to my nape and caressed the rough surface that seemed to be a scar or something.

"What's the matter? Does your neck hurt?" Dad asked worriedly and I quickly shook my head and smiled.

"Oh no, don't worry. It's just a habit of mine I noticed," I replied and it's true because I sometimes find myself touching the area without me intending to. I don't know if I had this habit before but I couldn't help it and sometimes I get so empty and lonely for unknown reasons. I knew this must have got to do with my past but at the same time, it's not like I could command myself to remember what I had already forgotten.

"Okay but it's almost time for your therapy so let's wait for your therapist inside?"

"Yeah sure. Thanks, Dad," I just replied and in the end, I still could not find a clue about last night. There's a possibility that I might just really be imagining it but it felt too real for me to be just imagining it. And surely, it can't be a ghost, right? There's no way a ghost would touch me so carefully as if I was gonna break. Additionally, I could have sworn the person tried to talk to me but I was too drowsy to decipher any of his words and was too focused on the sensation his touch had made me feel. I liked it a lot.

Dad pulled my wheelchair and brought me inside. I remained silent and Dad too for some reason when normally he'd be talking to me about everything.

"What's the matter, Dad?" I asked this time. It seemed like he had something to say but was very hesitant to do so, so I held his hand softly and smiled, hoping that by doing this he'd be more comfortable to tell me whatever he had in mind. Since Dad had been helping me a lot since I had woken up, I wanted to let him feel that it's okay to share with me as well.