Timeless [h.s]

Fourteen

Stuart

"How is Harry?" I sighed in frustration, thinking about my rushed visit that morning. He was asleep; peacefully immersed in a world in which bad things were only real until the moment he opened his eyes.

"Stronger. He's making progress, looking healthier." I nodded, proud. Harry was indeed a fighter and I admired him for his unshakable will of getting better soon.

"Good, he's a nice kid. Do you have any idea when he'll be out?" Professor Donovan was pacing around his office, adjusting many scattered books and reallocating them in proper shelves. I watched his methodical work, feeling some peace of mind as the desk became less cluttered.

"People don't like to give us deadlines, but I guess he'll be going home in two weeks or so. Obviously, he'll have to do some physiotherapy, mostly regarding his breathing and the pain that he'll feel after leaving. His cracked ribs needed less fixing than I believed, they never truly broke in two or more pieces, they just needed to be stabilised, thank heavens. Things are finally falling into place." Miles' smile was truthful, warm. He really enjoyed knowing Harry was out of the woods, at least in that moment.

"So, I assume you're not here to talk about Harry, then." He egged me on, picking up his black glasses and delicately putting them on. The accessory gave him a nerdy look that made him look more appealing in a certain way. Objectively, I knew he was attractive; I was not blind. I understood why people so firmly believed he cheated on his wife with me. Many women, given the opportunity, would have sex with him in a heartbeat. Oddly, I couldn't quite see him in that light. I thought of Miles just like I thought of my father: a sweet, caring man. Granted, my dad wasn't around too much, but I knew since a young age that court life did not suit him, he was far more interested in the common joys of life, such as raising his daughter.

In my mind, Donovan represented that person, someone with such a good heart you couldn't help but like. Obviously, I was three centuries older than he was, but there wasn't a single soul in the current world that I trusted more than him. There was no space for lust in our relationship, just mutual admiration and gratitude.

"I think you should take a seat and remain there until I finish what I have to say, because frankly I am still trying to understand how I did not pass out when it all happened." His curiosity was peaked, his eyebrows raising in surprise and suspicion. Overall, he had taken my real life story pretty well, but I feared that he wouldn't be as understanding as things complicated.

"A couple nights ago, I spent the night with Harry, giving his parents a break." I began, remembering the way he called me Barbie. "Every morning doctors go around and visit their patients, giving those updates. I felt slightly out of place there, so I went out for tea and came back just in time to hear the last bit of his consult." Miles nodded, clearly unaware of how the story would turn.

"I recognised his doctor's voice. He had his back turned to me, so I couldn't really see his face, he hadn't even noticed I walked inside the room. I was so anxious, feeling like I was on the verge of a breakthrough."

"Who was it?" Miles asked, his eyes hooded. He was starting to put the pieces together, like I knew he would.

"Someone from my past, an incredibly old past. Oliver Cavendish, my former lady's husband."

"So you're basically saying you found your stalker and he is responsible for Harry's health care?" I almost laughed at the way he put things. Unwillingly, my heartbeat increased as I worried about Harry. He was alive and well the last time I saw him, but I needed to be alert.

"I thought so too, that's why I almost passed out. After he left I asked Harry about him. Turns out Oliver's been taking care of him since the first day, which makes no sense if he wanted to kill Harry. It's been two days since we ran into each other and nothing has happened yet." Miles was intrigued but I could see he didn't share my opinion on Oliver's innocence.