Patient B-2

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Avalyn

 Despite the wide smile gracing Aren's lips, the weariness etched across his features is unmistakable. My heart twists painfully in my chest at the sight, a visceral reaction to the lingering aftermath of those abhorrent auctions. All I yearn for at this moment is to envelop him in my embrace, whispering reassurances that he will find solace. I vow to stand by his side and get him out of this nightmare. There's no question about it anymore; I'll get him out tonight.

 My mind races to process his words. "Saw who?" I blurt out, my hands reaching out to him through the bars, and my eyes scanning him instinctively for any sign of injury.

 Relief floods through me as I find no trace of injury, his vitality palpable beneath my touch. Yet, I'm acutely aware of the scars I can't see, those of mental anguish rather than physical wounds. The mere thought of what he's endured sends alarm bells ringing in my mind, urging me with a sense of gravity to whisk him away from this place as quickly as possible. Our words intertwine in a chaotic symphony, my concern echoing in the question of his well-being, while he simultaneously responds to my question.

 My hurried concerns grind to a halt as he mentions Idalia. "She was at the auction?" I inquire, a hint of surprise coloring my tone at the notion of her swift return to search for something so soon.

 "You were worried about me?" he interjects, sidestepping my inquiry.

 "Of course," I respond quickly before pressing on, "She was there? Did she see you?"

 Once more, he bypasses my questions, focusing instead on my concern. His surprise at my evident worry strikes me as odd; naturally, I was worried.

 "You were thinking of me?" he asks.

 "Yes, Aren, I was thinking of you. I couldn't stop thinking about you," I confess, the words tumbling out as if they were the most natural thing in the world. "This supposed cure they concocted is proving fatal for older vampires; I feared they might have administered it to you. I was on the verge of losing my mind thinking I wouldn't be able to leave this place with you," I continue, emotion welling up within me until a stray tear escapes, betraying the depth of my feelings.

 The idea that he might doubt my genuine concern for him is unfathomable. To me, showing empathy towards someone enduring such trials is simply what feels right. The thought that he could question my care is deeply disheartening. Yes, our acquaintance has been brief, and there have been moments of irritation. However, despite it all, we are united in this ordeal. We're in this together, facing the same challenges, and I am steadfast in my belief that we will leave this place together.

 I will get him back to his sister, I swear it. And while Idalia may not warrant such kindness, he certainly does. He's endured the trials of this place for far too long. He deserves to embrace freedom, to live a life far removed from the shackles of this place.

 "I was thinking of you too. You're always on my mind," he blurts out, his eyes widening with disbelief.

 A gentle chuckle escapes me, and I watch as his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I thought you were gone forever for a moment there," I confess softly, feeling a slight quiver in my lip.

 His fingers stretch through the cold steel bars, a desperate yearning in his touch, as though he's reaching for something beyond our confines. Without hesitation, I lean closer, allowing his embrace to bridge the gap between us. It's slightly awkward, unable to hug him fully, hindered by the unyielding metal barrier separating us.

 As I draw back slightly, his arms linger, one hand finding refuge on my arm while the other rests gently on my thigh. Our eyes meet through the narrow gaps, sharing a moment of intimate connection. "I'm sorry for causing you worry," his voice is barely a whisper, carrying the weight of remorse.