Forget Me Not - One Shot Series

Marco the Phoenix - Sweet

When you'd woken up, there'd been a man sound asleep at your bedside. His fingers were intertwined with yours, and pure exhaustion must've taken him considering how dark the circles were around his eyes. Something about him had been reassuring and relaxing, despite the fact that you couldn't remember anything about him.

Or yourself.

The room was unfamiliar, and a dull throb in your head was the only indication that something had happened and you were in the bed because you were healing. The air was fresh and warm, sunlight and a soft breeze coming into your room.

You'd pulled your hand away from his just so you could run your fingers through his hair. A muffled groan had been replaced with a contented look, his fitful expression softening as you combed through the blonde locks that topped his head.

The idea that he was a little like a pineapple came into your mind and you smiled to yourself, letting him rest a little more. You weren't confined to the bed, and the door into the rest of the house was open. There was a glass of water by your bed, and a basin with a rag on the side of it.

Maybe you'd had a fever? Come down with a sudden illness and hit your head? The clues were pointing to that, but you couldn't be sure. You felt well enough, but you could feel the weight of prolonged exhaustion in your own limbs.

Exhaustion that lasted long enough to etch dark circles into such an otherwise comforting face.

You sense the man at your bed stir before he started to move, eyes fluttering open to look up and focus on you. They flickered with a teal and gold light for a moment before he seemed to see you entirely.

"Hey," you say softly, a smile on your lips.

"Hey." He says back, sitting up and letting your hand cup his cheek as your fingers slip out of his hair. "How're you feeling?"

"Head aches," you admit. "And... I..." You hesitate, folding your hands in your lap, and looking away from him. There's a pain in your gut you don't completely understand, but at the same time you do.

Guilt.

"I don't remember this place."

Worry crosses his face, and a moment's silence follows. "And... me?"

The look on your face is enough to answer his question and you can see exhaustion settle into his posture and expression. You reach out and put your hand over his, causing his gaze to meet yours.

"I... I feel like I can trust you though." You admit, sheepish smile on your face. "You've been taking care of me, I can tell."

He smiles at you, the expression breaking as pain crosses his features briefly. Clearing his throat he looks away, getting up quickly and turning away.

"Let me... get you something to eat." He says, voice shuddering for a moment before he leaves the room entirely.

You weren't sure what your relationship was with him. Family or romantic. He probably didn't want to say until you had a chance to remember on your own, even with your declaration of trust.

A few moments later he returned with a breakfast in bed tray, an assortment of easy foods on it. He set it down and put a finger up before leaving the room again and coming back with two mugs of warm tea, setting one of them on your breakfast tray before sitting down beside you.

"I can leave you alone while you eat, yoi." He says. "If you'd rather."

You shake your head, pulling a grape free from the small bunch on the plate. "I feel like if I'm left alone I'll become anxious."