The Heart's Devotion (MSDS Sequel) - ON HOLD

Chapter 15

The hand grazed my cheek as if it were stroking an injured bird. I felt my face heating at it's touch. I didn't bother to look up, instead I simply sighed and nestled my head in it's palm.

"You're awake." I mused. My eyes glanced up at Grace's pale face, a smile spread from ear to ear shone towards me.

"Of course," she coughed. "It was just a scratch. I'm a tough cookie."

I suppressed my laughter and wrapped an arm around her. She winced beneath me but tightened her own grip in the process. "What happened?"

For the next hour we spoke about the events of tonight as tears stained my rosy cheeks. I felt discomfort as I explained how she had taken her life all because of me. I loved her, with all my heart, but I could not begin to tell her what my mother had shown me.
She sat there with her legs crossed, her hair tangled in bulky knots and a drained expression on her face; but in that moment I knew she was mine. A beautiful girl inside and out, who cared and listened.

"It's ok," her hand glided across my cheek. She wiped away the last of my tears and placed her lips against my forehead. "Maybe it's time you get some rest. They said I can leave tonight. The discharge forms will be as quick as possible."

"If you would like that. My mother has gone to our house to collect a few of our things and the dog. We'll be staying at yours until things settle. I don't think I can step foot in there for a while."

She leant on my shoulder, lifting herself up with my support. While she washed and dressed herself I waited for the discharge forms, thinking of the worst possibility of that night over and over again. It could have been two funerals.

-

I piled the spaghetti onto three plates before topping it with minced beef. All three of us were starving after the day we had been put through. My mother sat across from Grace, a small smile playing on her lips as they spoke about my mothers holiday and the new found relationship we had formed.

"How's mum and dad?" Grace questioned. A question she had probably been throwing around in her head for some time.

"Fine, dear." She almost whispered. "Your mothers just a bit sick is all, but you know what she's like, a fighter even to the smallest of flus!"

"I wish they were here."

"So do I," her eyes flickered between mine and Grace's. "Lets eat."

After an hour of finishing our food, talking about the two of us, and watching a TV program, Grace and I decided to head to bed. My mother tried to protest to begin with, but brushed it off when Grace began to wince at every stair she climbed.

"Maybe you should look after her," she had said as she let poppy in.

I helped her undress and into her pyjamas. My hands scolding against her burning flesh. "You're boiling," I exclaimed. "Are you sure you want these woolly pyjamas on?"

"I'll be ok." She mused. Her lips pressed against my own, and I held them there for a moment. My hand rested on her cheek, my lips moving against hers.

"Let's get into bed."

I lay on my back; her head against my chest and hand against my stomach. "Maybe when you're feeling better we'll go see your friends." I stroked her hair. "And get some ice cream or go on a date."

I waited for a response but was greeted by calm breathing and closed eyes. I was just happy that she was safe in my arms.