Larceny

30

Author's Note

So sorry for kinda going AWOL on this story, it's been difficult to write these more recent chapters. Thank you to all the regular readers of Larceny, I really appreciate you guys for all the praise you've given this work; it means alot to me :) 

~Jaz

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I step out of the bathroom and Michael and Amy are already at El's side. She talks to them one at a time, giving each of them a turn to speak and ask her questions. Part of me wants to join them but I've already had time to ask her of her well being; I take a seat on her window sill and watch the three of them. It has only been two days since Elinea had been really back. I can see that she is itching to walk again by the way she shifts, re-situating herself in bed every few minutes. She tries to do so much sometimes; too much. To see her sitting up, talking and making even just subtle movements gives me some ease but not enough not to worry. What Michael said is still bothering me.

"There must be something about her what we don't have... We wouldn't want them to discover what it is."

Ever since that conversation over Elinea's bed that night, when think of those words my stomach turns. I know Michael is right but I wish that he wasn't. El has been through so much already, does there have to be more?I look over at them once more and Michael is looking at me. He nods as if to say that I can join them; I walk over.

"You better let us help you," Amy says to Elinea with a stern look. "Just because you think you're strong enough to do all of this on your own doesn't mean you are."

"I know Amy, I know. I'm going to be alright, I don't want to put you through too much trouble."

"You know better than to say that; we're a team we take care of each other." Amy smiles.

"Right," I say looking at her. A slight smile tugs at the seam of her lips as her eyes flicker to me. My eyes widen momentarily as I take in the slight happiness on her face; the barely noticeable twinkle in her eyes, the height of her cheeks, and the smirk etched across her lips. It's all new to me. Instead of seeing her as the person who took it upon herself to look after me for a moment, I just think of her as a woman. Looking on her with fresh eyes, I notice the way her brows go from thick to thin as they nears her nose, the way her almond shaped eyes slant down slightly at their inner corners and the way they sit equal lengths apart on her face. Her lips neither thin nor thick curve upward slightly and two small creases cut into her cheeks when she speaks. Her light tan complexion compliments the way her jet black hair, parted on the left, frames her face. I take notice of her thin but toned frame, her long arms, small waist, thighs and thick calves that lay on top of instead of underneath her blankets. Her feet seem almost too large for her body but in comparison to her large calves they fit just right. Suddenly it occurs to me that I have no idea how old she is; she can't be more then twenty-two or twenty-three but taking her maturity into account, I can't really say for sure. Her looks are simple and slight not extraordinary like looks of many woman who are perceived as 'beautiful' like models, actresses or singer. She, in her own simplicity, is set in category all her own; she is naturally pretty even...beautiful.

After some more chatting, Amy and Michael leave and with one glance at the window I know it will be time to leave soon. I begin packing up my things and making sure there is no evidence of my presence or the presence of Amy or Michael and then pick up my bag and swing it over my shoulder. El sits upright in her bed, as she looks out the window where the moon is full and bright, shining alone in the sky. She stares at it longingly as though the two are engaged in a silent conversation. I take this time to walk to the door but just before I open it. I hear her shift in bed. 

"Bruno," she says softly rolling over each letter of my name. 

"Yeah?"

"You shouldn't feel guilty. There's nothing you could do to stop them and I let you think that you could. You we're only doing what I told you to do. I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry Bruno." the tone in her voice has changed for her normal monotone; for the first time since I've known her, what she's says doesn't sound rehearsed or logically calculated; it sounds real.

"I still feel like there was something I could have done," I say. "I made you a promise and I broke it."

"You didn't break your promise, I did. Stop admitting to something you didn't do. I'm back and I'm alright. Michael told me how you looked after me while I was out; if it wasn't for you my recovery process could have been much longer. You've done what you can and that alone is what I needed from you. Thank you."

I turn to her and though I can barely see her eyes, I feel as though we make eye-contact in the dark. "You're welcome El." With that I exit her room and make my way back to mine with a small smile on my lips.

_______

"Looks who's here right on time," El says shifting as she lays back on her stack of pillows. 

"Yep and today's the day to start your recovery," I say walking in with my backpack over my shoulder. 

"Bruno, I appreciate the enthusiasm but I don't think I'm ready to---" I cut her off and walk to her bedside. 

"You're going to make it right back to where you were before this second extraction and after that," I pause and take a roll of gauze and the soothing balm from my backpack. "You're going to recover fully." I look her in the eyes. She purses her lips to speak once more but after her eyes search mine, her lips relax. It is as though we share an unspoken agreement. 

"Alright," she says sitting up straighter. "What do you suggest?" I set up her two free bars side by side, parallel to each to each other with the space of about two feet between them. Then I return to her side. I pull up a chair and sit beside her; her eyes follow me. I take some of the balm in one hand, uncover her feet with the other and begin massaging the balm into her swollen and bruised calves, ankles and feet. "Let me know if I'm hurting you," I warn as I press more firmly with my fingertips. I glance at her face as I work my way down to each foot. She winces but doesn't make the slightest sound. When I am finished I take the gauze and wrap both of her ankles tightly and set them back on the bed gently. She pulls the covers from her legs and swings them over the side of the bed. I carry her over to the bars and carefully hold her in front of the bars. Just as I thought she would; she takes one bar and I watch her biceps tense up one after another. Her knees appear as though they may buckle by the way they bend shakily turning inward. With both hands the bars and no support except that from her own arms I reach for her waist but she shakes her head.

"Let me try." At this I back off but I stay behind her just as precaution. I swallow hard as I watch her try to hold her own weight; my hands feel as though they will fly to her sides at any hint of a miss-step. She takes one step, her knee folds and her face contorts. She lets out an involuntary scream of pain.  I catch her waist and lower her to the floor. Tears have already formed at the outer seams of her eyes and her brows are furrowed. She lets out a painful hiss and closes her eyes. I squat down beside her.

"I'm sorry," I say bracing her with arms. I shift and hook one arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back.

"Don't apologize. I just need time to work my way to it," she says with as one tear falls. She wipes it away quickly. Carefully, I lift her and walk back over to her bed. I place her there and put the covers over her once more. Once she's settled she looks at me and for a while she's quiet. Her dark eyes don't look as they did before; there's something new there. "Don't go easy on me," she says finally. "I hit you hard with all the workouts, so don't hold out on me."

"I won't since you didn't." I smirk. 

"I wouldn't expect otherwise." and the smirk she displayed only hours ago returns.