Auctioned Mate(unedited)

Chapter 31: Inner Pain (edited)

Phew, this took me awhile. Please comment and tell me what you think.

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“Myles?” I struggled to prop myself up on my elbows. “Myles are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” he said as he pulled himself off the floor. “I'm okay. Are you okay? How are your burns?”

“Fine,” I said painfully. It seemed like the burning in my throat would never go down. I wanted to stop talking but I couldn't. “Your mouth.” I was referring to the blood seeping through his lip.

“Yeah, it's fine. He got me in the mouth. I'll live,” he smiled at me. “Are you hungry? Do you need me to get you anything?” he sat at the edge of my bed. “You've been hooked up to those feeding tubes for a few days. I don't think you've eaten anything solid since we, you know...”

“No, I don't know. I don't remember leaving Myles,” I said breathlessly.

“I thinks it's best if you don't. I am so sorry. I should have never talked you into leaving.”

“Ha, don't kid yourself. I would have eventually done it on my own anyway. At least I had you on my side,” I coughed.

“I think I could use something to drink, now that you've mentioned it. My mouth feel like sandpaper.”

“I'll be right back,” he muttered and left.

I wanted so badly to sit up, but any slight moment and pain erupted. My arms and legs were tightly bandaged and very uncomfortable. I began unraveling the bandages around one of my fingers. I wanted to see how much damage I sustained. It hurt just peeling it off. My finger felt numb but painful. if that makes any sense. It stung just touching the bandages.

I finally peeled back enough to look at one of my fingers. It was bad. Half of my fingernail was gone. My entire finger was red and blistered. I tried moving it but it felt bad, like a horrible sunburn.

When Myles came back holding a mug, I quickly concealed my hand. I didn't want him to see it. I felt...ugly. I didn't even know how bad my face was compared to my hands. My freaking nail is gone and still hasn't grown back after apparently four days of being in a coma.

“Here you go. It's apple juice. I hope that's okay?” he ask as he handed me the mug then sat at the edge again.

I took one sip and it began to soothe my throat. I knew it wasn't a lasting feeling. I was already almost done by the time I spoke again. “Why are you all the way down there?”

“I'm a afraid,” he licked his finger and wiped some dried blood off his lips, “that I might hurt you...again.”

“You're not going to hurt me. I need you to help me out here,” I cringed. This talking—while severely burn thing—was killing me. I wanted to scream. “I need you to give me a mirror.”

He chuckled, “What? After everything that just happened, you want a mirror?”

“What? Do I look unsightly?” I asked. “I just want to see the damage.”

“Why? You look beautiful...as always,” he said. “You don't need a mirror to confirm that, I can do that.”

“No I don't. Why are you lying to me?” I turned to keep him from seeing me break down. He can't do that. He can't say things like that, not after what I've been through. “Just give me a mirror.”

“No,” he said sternly. “The only thing that you should be worried about it staying alive. I thought I almost lost you Mason. You—you weren't moving and...” he paused. I turned to see him. I could see tear swell in his eyes. “You weren't saying anything. I called your name over and over again. You didn't answer me. I didn't know what to do.”