Carry Me Home - A LEGEND trilogy (Marie Lu) fanfiction

18: Day

My mind starts asking so many questions. But I always end up with one single question in my mind, Who the hell is he to June?

Instead of wondering who he really is, it starts spawning other questions, such as, How the hell did he know about it?

Tess and Eden tell me to consider approaching him myself. June doesn't have anyone so close to her through bloodline who can thank the secret donor she has. And when she wakes up, she'll also wonder but I don't think she'll get to really know him.

It takes a lot of my strength to come to this man. Well, this man would probably think who the hell I am to June to even ask him a lot. I may even be living a hell now, yeah?

The man doesn't flinch when he notices me sitting down next to him. He seems to know that I am really going to sit next to him - he seems to even know my purpose. I take in his features for a while. His careful and calculating dark eyes are really hazel in color. But probably due to age, they start to appear darker. I didn't realize how old he really is. He seems to be really old at close look, around 60 perhaps? His previously light brown hair has started turning completely white especially around the sideburns.

I don't know that I've been looking at him for too long that it suddenly becomes too awkward for the man and also to me. Especially when he notices me looking at him so intently and glances at my direction. And when I look at him, I see some sort of familiarity. It's like I've seen him already, somewhere before but I don't or can't remember when or where or how.

"You're looking at me so intently, young mister. Can I help you with something?" he asks me with a gentle smile, a really familiar one.

I hesitate at first to continue. A part of my brain tells me just to shake my head and say that it's nothing to bother at all. But a bigger part of me has the urge to finally asked him, confirm whether he is somehow related with June—and how he knew what happened to her—and why was he so willing to give some blood that completely matches June's just like that, if he just happened to be a stranger somewhere or patient of the hospital.

It takes me a good three minutes to answer. If I were June, I would've been able to tell how much time had passed, exactly. Somehow.

Wait a minute...? What did I just think?

How did I know that June could do that?

"People these days were really changed by the Great War between the Republic and the Colonies ten years ago." The man sighs heavily.

It suddenly breaks in my mind to ask what's with that war he is talking about. But another thing that I remember about war is blood, making me think about June and him again.

I immediately tell him, "I heard from the doctor, good sir, that you are the one who have donated blood to Commander Iparis, is that it?"

I don't know if my question surprises him because he seems to stiffen a little and just brushes his fingers—wrinkled due to old age—on the criss-crossing tight bandage around his inner elbow, the mark where he donated blood.

"Yes, that's true, son," he answers softly. His expression softens by the edges. And it makes my heart breaks because of how sad my question made him.

I lean my head against the wall and stare at the ceiling for a moment. A minute passes, before I turn to him again. "I don't mean to ask too much or have your identity spilled. It may be confidential, I guess. But at least, I would like to know if you have any relation to Commander June Iparis. Or anything of sort."

He sighs again, glances at me for a moment and then rests his chin by his folded hands, his elbows resting by his knees.

"It was just a foolish decision to keep my family safe at the very least. I loved my family so much that I couldn't risk losing them. But it's indeed true that the Republic had eyes everywhere you went, especially if they tried to target you. The incident made me a very terrible person. Me giving a small portion of my blood to someone who need it is just enough to at least repent whoever I'd become."

"You loved your family," I state. "You love them so much, that you chose to protect them for their own good even if it it cost you the opposite."

"That's right, my son. But the truth is, love is a choice. And we can choose not to love someone." He then glances at me. "The same way you can do to Commander Iparis."

It makes me think for a moment. I try to rattle the phrase all over again inside my head.

But the truth is, love is a choice. And we can choose not to love.

"No," I state firmly. "I can't."

The man then looks at me so challenging, testing if I am indeed saying the truth.

"I choose to love her whatever the consequences are," I continue without any hint of negativity in my voice. I know for myself that what I said to him is indeed the truth.

The man looks at my eyes intently, like he is trying to make me remember something that I can't. "I hope one day, she'll be able to forgive what I did."

"You're talking about June, am I right?" I ask.

He smiles a smile that brightens his dark eyes. "Yes. I really hope she would." He then stands up and says, as if he remembers that he needs to say something, "You can call me Paris." And before I can even asked more, he is already far from my view, moving toward the exit of the hospital.

I don't know how long I stare at the exit door of the hospital, hoping to know more about the person who seems to be so close to June than I ever thought I could be.

"Mr. Wing," a manly voice behind me calls.

I immediately look at him and see the same doctor, still in his white laboratory gown, a stethoscope by his shoulders. I then ask, hoping that I won't hear bad news, "Yes?"

"Commander Iparis has finally been transferred to her room. I guess, it would be better if you stay up with her," he recommends.