Shape of You

Chapter 17

I decided after one full day at his place that nurse Cassian was worse than commander Cassian. Because he was always checking on me, always giving me my medicine. It had been two days since the doctors released me and he still barely let me leave his room. He walked with me if I needed to use the bathroom, he tried carrying me out onto the porch when I asked to sit outside for a little. It should've been sweet, but I had never been the girl who wanted to be taken care of.

I wanted to scream, and I would've if I hadn't been able to distract him for more than a few minutes with my touch. Nurse Cassian was easy to persuade. I could convince him I was okay with the sway of my hips and the pressure of my lips against his.

I couldn't complain though. I was still tangled in Cassian's sheets. He refused to let me go back to my apartment even to get a change of clothes. Since Tomas was MIA he was convinced I was safer here. Of course I was, but I still wanted some of my things. So poor Elain and Az were tasked with bringing me a bag of clothes and shower supplies since Cassian refused to leave my side.

Cassian checked my stitches every day, every three hours. I would've told him to stop, if he wasn't so damn sweet whenever he pulled at the bandages. He would lift my shirt and gently pull the tape back, his free hand holding mine so I could squeeze if it hurt. God nurse Cassian might be annoying but he was perfect. He was making me wish I could pull him down into bed with me.

I don't think anything turned me on more than those brown eyes checking me for injuries.

But whenever I tried to remind him of where we had left off, I would accidentally wince if his hand strayed too far and he would automatically stop. As if some alarm went off telling him not to keep going. Telling him to become commander Cassian with his sweet touches and kisses locked away.

I was so ungodly frustrated. It was worse than the soreness Tomas had left behind.

Elain was the one who fixed my hair. I cried, something my sister rarely saw happen, while she evened up the sides. Cassian held my hand, thinking it hurt when she touched my shoulder. But it didn't hurt physically. For some reason I just felt like the loss of my hair was another reminder of everything Tomas had taken from me.

It was short. Shorter than I would've liked it to be. It barely reached my shoulders, my curls more like waves that fell in front of my face. Cassian told me I looked beautiful, even as I cried. It took me a few hours to get used to it. And the only reason I did was because my big gentle giant constantly told me he loved my short hair.

I don't know what I did to deserve him. But I would be forever grateful for him. In that moment especially, his hand holding mine, promising me that altering my hair would never change the way he saw me.

On the third day of my release I woke up to hushed voices. I opened my eyes and I listened, people were fighting outside the room. Cassian wasn't in bed with me and the sun was shining through the windows. I was sore, more sore than I had been yesterday. I winced as I sat up and I heard Cassian telling someone to leave. I gasped as pain shot through my ribs. I needed my medicine.

I sat up and grabbed the wall for support. I walked slowly to the closed door and opened it. My body felt weak, but I pushed myself to walk down the hallways of Cassian's home. I hadn't really taken it in the day I got here. It was nice for a guys place. It was clean and bright. I felt at home here.

"She doesn't want to see you," his voice was hard and determined, "so leave."

Mor didn't answer. Her eyes fell on me as I came out of the hallway and stopped, holding onto the wall for support. I let out a breath, more like a whimper, as Cassian turned. Mor, my sisters college roommate and friend, the girl who single handily broke us, was standing in the doorway trying to come in.