Whispers

Chapter Ten

10

My heart crashed against my ribcage, desperate to be free from the torture of his eyes. I could feel the blood pounding through my veins so fiercely, every beat echoed through my fingertips and my toes. My face burned as I was forced to stare up at the same man I haven't been able to stop thinking of since the night in the art room.

"Mr. Carter..."

"Lucas," he gently corrected. His thumb continued to sweep back and forth over my fingers, soft and hot.

I quickly pulled my hand out of his searing grip and shoved myself into a sitting position. Lucas was forced to back away, much to my relief. His body no longer inches from mine, I took a small breath.

"You haven't been looking very good as of late," he commented, turning away and tugging the collar of his shirt straight once more. "I was wondering when you'd come and see me." When he looked at me again that daring smirk was gone, replaced by the sweet smile he always presented me with. The familiar sight was comforting. "I missed you. Did you sleep well?"

My heart practically melted into a puddle behind my ribs, swooning at the man's words. Despite how much I had missed him as well, I decided to change the subject. Quick. "Where were you?" I asked. My limbs still heavy from sleep, I stretched them out in front of me and yawned. "When I looked for you earlier you were gone."

"I was out running an errand," he replied. "When I came back Mr. Lance had asked about you. Then I found you in here. I was going to wake you up, but you just looked so sweet."

Sweet. I could still feel his hand on mine, the warmth against my cheek. Just how sweet had I looked for him to get that close?

"So, I decided to let you sleep," he finished.

"Thank you." I did feel a bit better after that nap. "What time is it?"

"It's a little past six," he informed. "So, Christine, why don't you tell me what's going on?" I watched as Lucas slid a small notepad out from the pocket of his coat and flipped it to a blank page. "Why are you so tired?"

"I haven't been sleeping well as of late," I replied with a small shrug. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Why do you think you haven't you been sleeping well? Are you not tired?" He smiled. "Too much late night sketching?"

I tried to brush off the blush I could feel creeping its way up my neck as the memories of the night in the art room came rushing back. The way his hands framed my face, the look in his eyes when he leaned in. I was almost certain I had known what he wanted that night. But then, why hadn't he taken it?

Mentally shaking myself, I pushed those thoughts far away. Analyzing the way of man would be saved for another time. Not for when the said specimen was sitting so close.

I must've taken too long to answer because the smile fell from his face, and he put away the notepad. "You can talk to me, Christine," he assured. "What's going on?"

Maybe it was because Lucas had only ever been sweet to me. Maybe it was the worry I could hear in his voice or it was the pleading look in those glass colored eyes. Maybe I was just disillusioning myself but in that moment as he reached forward to place his hand on my own in a gesture of comfort, I felt as though he truly and honestly cared for me. Not just as a Nurse and his patient. And maybe, not as friends either, but something more. Something deeper. I felt the words tumble out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I'm scared," I whispered. "I'm scared of going to sleep at night."

"Why is that?"

I chewed on my lip, embarrassment making my ears feel hot. As if I could tell him about what's really been going on with me. Eventually, I settled for, "I've been having nightmares."