From scratch ✔️

37. Epilogue.

Emily.

I was flying. Or floating? I was warm and comfortable, but something was nagging at my mind and I couldn't really grasp what exactly. I shouldn't be that comfortable or warm. I should be dead, but I'm pretty sure I'm not, the dead don't feel anything. Or do they? 

My head was fuzzy, so I tried to shake the feeling off, but my body failed to obey. I didn't like it. So I tried again, but was met with some resistance. That's odd... I tried opening my eyes, but they felt glued together. For how long have I been out? I took a deep breath and an amazing scent filled my nostrils, it smelled vaguely familiar, like the ocean and something... masculine? Weird... I inhaled again, still there. I tried moving my head again, just to check if it was still fuzzy, but something was holding me back. I tried wiggling my fingers, and it worked! Not ideally, no, my hands fell clammy and unresponsive, but I was slowly regaining my senses, so I tried feeling around in order to understand where I was and what was restraining me. The tips of my fingers pressed into something firm and warm, a soft material, flannel? How weird. 

Suddenly I felt a weight lifted from my head and groaned from the loss of warmth. And then I felt something lightly touching my cheekbones.

"Open your eyes, love" said a quiet voice from above me, but it seemed to vibrate through my pillow as well. How was that even possible? Except... maybe my pillow wasn't a pillow? After all it wasn't soft. At all. 

I tried opening my eyes again, and this time succeeded a bit. Through the tiny slits bright light blinded me, the pain shot through my scull and I whined helplessly. I wanted to lift my hand to hide my eyes behind it, but I felt week. 

"Would you close the curtains, please?" same husky voice said to someone in the room. That voice sounded very familiar, it brought good feelings, I wanted to hear more of it, but couldn't gather the strength to speak. 

"Try again, Em, open your eyes." same soft voice said, and I tried again. At first the picture was blurry, my eyes had a hard time focusing, but slowly I started seeing the outline of something in front of me. A chest. A male chest covered in burgundy red flannel shirt. I lifter my eyes higher and found a strong jaw with a couple days worth stubble, then the lips. I knew those lips. They bring pleasure. Where do I know those lips from? Said lips curved in a small smile and I felt entranced, I wanted to touch those lips with my fingers, just to check if they were as soft and warm as I thought they would be. I tried lifting my hand again, and shakily it obeyed. Slowly my fingers approached the lips, and when I was almost at my goal, another hand, much larger then mine took it and brought to those lips to kiss every single finger. They indeed were as soft as I thought.

And the hand, the hand was large, but gentle. I looked at the hand closely, it was huge, really, but not scary at all. The fingers were long and curved around mine perfectly, like these two hands belonged together. A small smile tugged at my own lips, and then the goal lips said:

"There's the smile I wanted to see! Welcome back, love." and then they kissed my fingers again. I looked even higher and my gaze met with the most beautiful pair of eyes I have ever seen - deep green, the colour of moss on a cloudy day with light specs of gold around the irises, framed by thick layer of lashes. And the look in those eyes was full of so much love, that my breath hitched for a second.

"Nick..." I whispered. It all hit me at the same time, all my life rushed to my brain with another wave of pain in my head, so I squeezed my eyes shut. Conner, woods, the gun...

"What happened?" I wheezed out, my throat raw and dry. Nick shifted a bit, lifting us both up into a sitting position, but never letting go of me. My body felt sore, every muscle was screaming, but I tried my best to not whine.