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Can You Feel Me? : Chapter 6
He looked at her and then down at himself lying still on the gurney. "Am I
dead?"
She looked up at him, willing herself to talk, "N..no. You are alive.
Barely, but you are."
He nodded and looked at her, "You were the one helping me get to Brian,
weren't you? You were the one that screamed and made me stop from cutting
deeper."
She nodded, refusing to look up at him. What was she supposed to do now? He
could see her, he could talk to her, yet there he was in that bed, in a
coma, at the same time.
She felt a hand under her chin and he tipped her head back to look at him,
"What is your name?"
She just looked at him, still in wonder that he could see her, no one else
had been able to. And his touch, she could actually feel it. It wasn't
just a feeling of what should be there, it was an actual touch. It had been
so long, the sensation of it leaving her reeling.
He waited for her answer, but it didn't come. He shook his head slightly,
his blonde hair swinging a little over the sides of his face, "Of course you
don't have a name. Angels don't have names, do they?"
She shook herself out of it, "Katarina."
His eyes flicked up to hers in surprise, "What?"
"Katarina, but everyone calls me Katya. And I'm not an angel."
He raised an eyebrow, confusion in his eyes, "You aren't? Then are
you......." He trailed off as he looked downwards, chewing nervously at his
lower lip.
She caught his meaning, "No! Oh god no! I'm not from there either!"
He seemed relieved. A silent sigh coming from his lips, the weight of it
releasing the tension in his shoulders. "You aren't here to take me with
you?"
She shook her head, heaving a sigh herself, but hers from frustration. I
don't know what I'm doing here. Last thing I remember was listening to the
snow against my window, lying in bed, next thing I know, I'm in that hotel
room with you. Seeing what you see, feeling what you feel. Watching you
slice your wrist open and knowing all the reasons why you shouldn't."
He looked down at the bloodstained sheets, letting her continue, "I thought
I was there to stop you, but I did that and still there I was. Then I
though I was there to get you to......" She trailed off, not remembering his
name.
"Brian."
She nodded, "Yes, him. It nearly killed both of us but we got there, yet
still there I was. Every time I think I've found the reason I'm here, it's
wrong."
He watched her as she spoke, looking at her face, the expressions on it.
Most of all he saw the sadness in her eyes, the same sadness that he saw
every time he looked in the mirror. She looked like she was on the verge of
tears, yet nothing in her expression agreed with that, it was only in her
eyes. Without thinking, he reached out and placed a hand on the side of her
face.
She stared at him, stunned by the sudden touch. It felt like lightening
crackling across her face and through every nerve in her body. It was too
much for her, it had been too long. She backed away like a frightened
child, "Don't! Please, it's too....."
His hand jerked back to his side like he had been burned, "Okay. I'm
sorry." He looked down at his feet, wishing he hadn't acted on the impulse
he'd had.
She watched him look at the floor, guilt washing over her. She slowly
approached him, her hand tentatively reaching out for the strands of blond
hair obscuring his down turned face from her. A gasp left her lips as she
felt the strands sliding through her fingers. So soft. She sunk her
fingers more deeply into the strands and felt his forehead. It was warm,
soft.
He slowly lifted his head, trying not to startle her. He realized with a
wash of sympathy that she wasn't used to being seen, or touched. She wasn't
used to touching other people. He could tell by the child-like expression
of wonder on her face.
Her fingers started to explore his now upturned face, feeling the softness
of his skin under her fingertips, the rough texture of his eyebrows. The
velvety bristles of his eyelashes that almost tickled her fingers as she
traced over the edges of his closed eyelids. Her fingers slid over the
slope of his nose and traced the fullness of his lips, feeling them part
slightly, his warm breath skimming over her fingertip. Their eyes met and
held each other in their gaze. She reluctantly pulled her fingers away, not
wanting to break the contact. She tried to open her mouth, to make it
express what that had meant to her, but her body would not obey.
He smiled shyly, his gaze never breaking from hers, reading exactly what she
was trying to say behind the sadness in her eyes. "You're welcome." He
reached out and slid some wayward strands of hair behind her ear, "How long
has it been since you've touched someone?"
She closed her eyes, thinking. "I don't remember. Everything seems so far
away. Like another lifetime."
He looked at her, "Is that why you are fading away?"
She looked at him, shocked and confused, "Fading away?"
He nodded, "The only part of you I can see clearly is your head, the rest of
you keeps shifting in and out of focus, like you are fading away. Am I like
that too?"
She tried to look down at herself, but just like every other time, all she
saw was nothingness. She looked at him and saw him in crystal clear
clarity. She shook her head, "No. Maybe it happens with time, maybe it's
because I don't know my purpose here. I don't know. I just don't know."
He looked saddened, wanting to help, but not sure how to. "Well what do we
do now? Are we supposed to go somewhere?"
She looked down at the form on the bed, lying there peacefully, "You need to
go back. That much I do know." She sat on the end of the bed, looking at
the peaceful face lying there.
He sat on the other side of the bed, looking down at himself also. "And
what if I don't want to go back?"
She looked up at him, shrugging her shoulders. "Then you stay like this
forever. Neither here nor there."
They both looked up when a figure appeared in the doorway, it's presence
made known by a soft noise of footfalls. Light beamed around the figure,
obscuring who it was.
Silently, slightly awed, they watched.
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