Lynn's POV
Everything blacked out for what felt like a second before I regained precious sight of Charles and woke to his frantic voice, perseveringly beckoning for me.
"Lynn," Charles sputtered gently as my eyes successfully fluttered open and the white haze clarified into his furrowed features.
"I'm sorry..." I mumbled shakily, tears apparently still flowing even after that faint experience.
"You really shouldn't be doing this, Lynn," Charles dissuaded, gazing at me with utmost sincerity.
"I won't be at rest anyway. Just help me get cleaned, will you?" I urged pleadingly and he sighed, conceding.
"Can you manage this?" Charles sought worriedly as he laid me back against the mirror.
Normally, even in moderately reclined sitting positions, a certain amount of balance was required. Without absolutely any use of our legs, the exertion of our trunk muscles was necessitated to maintain our bodies upright but the pleasant angle at which Charles had placed me demanded minimal strength that I could actually relax.
Nodding feebly, I leaned on my right side as Charles cranked up the bathroom's heating and shut off all its ventilation pathways. As the highly unwanted suction drafts and cool air were roughly eliminated from the enclosed space, Charles ran the tub with luscious warm water before proceeding to undress me.
Slowly, he lifted my bum off the vanity top and eased my tapered pants off my unfeeling legs just dangling limply off the edge. Chucking the soiled clothing aside, Charles worked cautiously to unbuckle my sling and stripped off my tank top around my bundled joint.
There was not much fabric and he was careful for the most part but even the slightest movement to my mangled wrist was notoriously infamous to jar my whole arm. Although my brace was plastic, possessing the convenience of removal and bearing no bandages that obligated an abstinence from water, Charles was apprehensive to unclasp it for fear of aggravating my injuries.
Testing the water, Charles prudently lowered me into the luxuriously tepid surroundings and propped my swollen arm onto our usual shower chair as he diligently bathed me.
The flowery aroma of herbal oils present as essence in the soap and the gratifying massage Charles was generously pampering me with coupled impeccably to create the ultimate soothing environment that almost spontaneously lulled me to sleep.
Everything was slumberous and drowsy, yet in a good manner. Initially, I was still conscious enough to nod and smile to Charles, greatly diminishing his worries, but soon, all was blurry and the last thing I remembered was grinning into his reflection.
From what was originally pure, deep, respite emerged the repulsive scenes that came back haunting. Images of the dark chamber flashed intimidatingly through my mind and I sprung my eyes wide, panting heavily as I stared shakily at the ceiling flared by moonlight.
I tried to breathe normally, only to have my sniffles crisply slice the silent night. Nervously, I skimmed our room, noticing countless bottles of medication on his nightstand and my wounded arm, mildly throbbing, supported neatly atop a stack of plush cushions.
Charles was sprawled beside me, hands wrapped loosely around my frame as he surrendered to his enormous fatigue. Despite my dramatic awakening, he napped, undisrupted, a work of that tremendous exhaustion, but I could not be more glad that he was receiving due rest, rather than being terribly appalled by my anxiety-ridden expression once again.
Tenderly, I caressed the smooth skin wrapping his handsome skull, and concentrated my powers to activate a part that I had newly acquired.
It never occurred to me that, despite our externally induced similarities, I should be copying Charles' gifts. Unmistakably, it was now more straightforward than ever and definitively physically possible, but it was only recently that he randomly decided to teach me one of his favourite tricks.
One typical Sunday we spent driving away from the mansion, we landed ourselves on a small, secluded beach on the north side of town. The sun was kind, the scenery, magnificent, and in our company, just a handful of idling humans.
As all of us reveled in the wondrously invigorating ambience of Mother Nature, Charles was suddenly sparked by the idea. Curiously, he was extremely eager, like an excited kid yearning to share about their beloved toy.
Even when I was not the one to ask, I obliged with a wide grin and willingly listened to his exuberant instructions. Following them meticulously, I managed to get several children sunbathing on the seaside to doze off amidst their handheld video games but nothing quite more.
Although it was not evident that this peculiar capability was something I needed frequently, I actively practiced until I mastered it, not hoping for any of our initial efforts to go to waste, and fortuitously, those days of loitering suspiciously around the student dorms, toiling through the night with Charles, had finally paid off.
"Go to sleep," I whispered indistinctly into Charles' ear, channeling my available telepathic energy to enhance the ignorance of his hibernating state, and switched off his alarm, to aid my temporary escape.
Striving to be inconspicuous as my heart pounded fervently for unknown reasons, I discreetly peeled off his palm from my chest and lifted off the covers with some strenuously conjured telekinesis. Quietly floating myself into my chair, I levitated a bottle of wine from our contingency collection stashed within the secret compartment of our bookcase on the far wall.
Sloshing the clear maroon liquid into a glass, I gulped down the modest dose of Merlot but whatever that triggered my accelerating pulse was not doused by the sweet beverage now polluted with the savory taste of my unrestrained tears.
Desperately, I swallowed more alcohol in attempt to drown out the obscure agitation but even when I emptied the entire three-quarter liters into my system, the moderate intoxication failed to mask my escalating uneasiness. Hurriedly concealing the mess I unknowingly finished in a hasty wink, I tediously propelled myself towards the bath again.
Imaginably, it was ridiculously illogical that I craved another shower after merely two hours but my rattled mind screamed with the strange and overpowering desire to be cleansed under rapidly running water. The irrational thirst was inexplicably strong and I rushed blindly into the stall.
I slammed the faucet to its maximum capacity, allowing the rain of relatively hot water to drench me completely. The torrent of splatters battering the glass panes were cacophonous, but thankfully when I checked, Charles was still peacefully undisturbed.
Amongst the mist and steam, my tears gushed continuously like the water cascading over my body. The droplets streaming down my face blended too perfectly with the indoor downpour and my heaving breaths were muffled into the splashing noise, but the crying, provoked by mysterious anxiety flooding my veins, was obvious nonetheless.
My eyes were irritated from the excessive expulsion of fluids and my airways clogged with slimy mucus that I choked on almost every other breathing minute, comprehensively depleting my frail body. I slumped back lethargically, still feeling that gross sense of being dirty.
Reaching back towards the soap, I only realised then that I had not even taken off my clothes. My night gown was utterly soaked, transforming the blush pink silk into a translucent layer blatantly clinging onto my pale skin. Likewise, my cast was still attached, similarly dripping wet.
Mindlessly, I ripped off the Velcro straps and disregarding the acute searing in my wrist as I clumsily wrestled off the soggy tunic, I ditched the awkward pile into a corner before lathering body foam all over my naked frame.
Scrubbing hard and struggling not leave any bruised marks, I washed my body thoroughly and repeatedly but the gratifying sense of being cleaned was mysteriously buried in a distant ambiguity. It was long before I unearthed it from the darkness but I eventually collected myself and all my haywire notions, albeit only with ruffled tresses and wrinkled skin.
I stayed hidden in the bath, laboriously reverting both our original conditions. The seconds ticked away against my favour but after a troublesome battle, the area was once again neat and tidy. With sparing traces of moisture, it lacked any significant hint of entry and I quickly moved on to deal with myself.
My sleepwear had baked with substantial assistance of the radiator it was spread upon and I grabbed the toasty outfit, tugging it on speedily. Wiping the acrylic bracket dry, I prudently secured it to my wrist that protested in sheer agony once again as pressure was applied to clamp down the external support.
Ignoring the vivid accents of torture, I thrusted myself back to the main section of the bedroom and swiftly popped several painkillers down my throat. I plopped into the cavity next to Charles, lightly snoring in the most adorable fashion but unfortunately, the weariness and medication did not permit any further appreciation.
Just a soporific daze and a routine, cycling.
