The Dancer

13. The Nightmare

Sara walked into Malcolm's penthouse for the first time in the week and a half that she'd been gone. After their fight, she'd stayed at her dorm which she now regretted. The penthouse was much nicer than her cramped dorm and not to mention Malcolm was there with her.

Her injuries were far worse than anticipated. The concussion she had sustained was incredibly worse than expected, she walked dizzily and sometimes stopped talking mid sentence because she found it hard to continue her words. Her ribs were still bruised so it was near impossible to stand for too long. Her wrists and ankles were still wrapped up from their deep cuts.

In the afternoon of her first day at the hospital she recieved a call from Madam. Madam was fuming because Sara hadn't shown for rehersal. Sara was crying on the phone, explaining to Madam that she'd been attacked in a club and that she was currently in the hospital. Madam asked how long her recovery would take and Sara was quick to tell her that she wouldn't be dancing for a while, maybe not until spring quarter.

With Sara unable to dance, her classes were a complete waste. On the third day of being in the hospital, Sara called the university's office to get information on dropping classes. Due to her health issues, the school suggested that she defer her classes with a doctors note and take required classes, such as literature, math, and a social science for winter quarter.

She was worried that her injury would cause her to not dance again. It may seem overdramatic but injuries like her's even if they had nothing to do with her legs or feet were game changers for dancers.

Sara was thankful to Malcolm. Not just for rescuing her and staying with her but also for letting her stay with him.

Lucien had gotten her things from her dorm and placed them in her room. Malcolm said his housekeeper, Regina, would put her things away.

"For now," Malcolm continued. His hand hovered over her hip while the other hovered over her arm. "You need to rest."

"I'm not going to fall, Mal, don't you trust me?" She says with a faint chuckle. Her attempt to lighten the mood was ignored by Malcolm, who was cautiously directing her towards the living room.

"Regina is upstairs. I'll go talk to her and let her know what to do, then I have to-" Malcolm began his explaination but it was imediately cut to the sound of sweet angelic voice.

"I know how to take care of her, Malcolm!"

Regina was a thin, tall, tan woman with long black hair. She looked like she was around Malcolm's age, maybe two or three years older. She was pretty, latino, and very bubbly.

"Oh gosh! You poor thing!" She gasps as she sees Sara. She hurries from the kitchen island, ignoring her work and going straight to the girl.

"Sit down honey, I'll get you some food and some water," Regina says taking over Malcolm's position and maneuvering Sara towards the couch. After Sara sits, Regina relaxes a little more.

"Sara, this is Regina. She's been my... um..." Malcolm struggles for the correct words.

"Caretaker... housekeeper... ball and chain?" Regina fills in his words laughing at her last joke.

"She takes care of me, makes sure I eat, cleans my house, does my laundry, is my occasional therapist. The list is endless. She'd been visiting family in California and just got back," he explains.

"Yes! Malcolm told me you were staying and I was so eager to come back and when I did he told me that he scared you off. I hate having this place all to myself," Regina calls out from the kitchen.

Malcolm leans down towards Sara. He hesitates but decides that since he's done it so many times already that it wouldn't hurt, he kisses her forehead then he leans to her ear.