The Numbers on Her Wrist

26

It's been four days since our last visit with the FBI and we have hardly been apart. Samuel has refused to bring me back to speak with Lawson, repeating himself several times that I should allow myself a few days away from there; he does not want me to fall apart again; he said it broke his heart to see me in pain.

The thought of 571 was still fresh in my mind this morning when I woke and Samuel distracted me before I could plough myself back into the memories completely; I did not tell him what I was thinking about.

We sit in the cafe that I often frequent, my daily waiter- who has once again been neglected for a while- serving us. I changed my routine today, ordering a stack of pancakes covered with a type of chocolate spread and syrup instead of the Wednesday crepes- I am sure this breakfast has over 500 calories.

Samuel has stared at me for a while, his hand on my knee and the other around my shoulders, his eyes on my lips, and his food untouched. "Why don't you eat?" I whisper, glancing up to his gaze as I swallow another bite. His fingers lift from my leg and he touches my cheek, absentmindedly wiping a stray crumb from the side of my mouth. "I can wait. I'm just enjoying sitting here with you."

I laugh and grab my mug of coffee to hide the blush that creeps annoyingly onto my face, "What did I do to deserve such a sweet guy?" He chuckles and I nudge him towards his food, "Come on, Samuel. Eat something- pancakes make everyone happy. You eating pancakes make me happy."

A grin fills his features as he gives into me, but leaves hie left arm wrapped around my shoulders. He finally digs into the steaming pancakes, cutting off the edge and dragging it across the excess syrup that has oozed onto his plate. "Mmm. You want to try a piece?" I shake my head, content with my own food, and look around the small cafe that is relatively empty because of the late morning hours; lunch will start soon and people will arrive to eat; we will leave before the rush.

The wind blows against my face, whipping the blood red hair around my eyes and lips, the clouds lingering still as they wait for the cue for their rainfall- but their duty has been fulfilled the last few days; today will be sunny. I wonder when I will be able to appreciate just this- not the fact that this is freedom, not because this is not something I got when I was a child. Will the nightmares and horrid memories ever disappear? Will they ever leave my scarred mind or my scarred back or my scarred wrists?

"Hey," Samuel breathes, watching me closely as he sets his fork down again and takes my chin into his fingers to bring my eyes to his. "Are you alright, love?" I offer him a small smile and open my mouth to reply, but I am interrupted by the waiter setting two glasses of cold water on the side of the table, a smile sent our way before he departs from us.

"I'm fine," I whisper once he has left. "Fine is not alright," Samuel counters, a look of pure concern and love washing over his face as he runs a finger down my upper arm. "I'm fine, idiot," I tease. "Not everything is code for 'save me, noble knight.'" Samuel laughs loudly at this and I smile, enjoying the sound of him. "Yes it is, my fair queen."

He moves to get up and leave- for the bathroom perhaps- but I catch his wrist and hold tightly to him, searching for the right words as quickly as I can, my eyes running across the ground. A face in the crowd makes me remember something I made a note to myself a while ago about: I need to tell him about Mr. Ellis.

"Amelia? What is it? What's wrong?"

I shake my head a few times, chewing the inside of my cheek for the moment. "Nothing." I sigh and correct myself, "I should have told you about this before, but I didn't think you would approve." I curl my free hand into a fist, "There is a man from my past- someone who has been very kind, and seems to only want to help." Samuel tilts his head to the side as I continue. "About a month or two ago, around the time I met you, he confronted me about the orphanage. He said that he is trying to end the Association too. He has told me that he knew me from my past- that he met me when I was young." He fidgets and runs a finger across my hand.