Reluctant Restraint

A scene between two of my favorite characters as they are falling in love.

All she wanted to do was kiss him. But she couldn't. The drugs coursing through her veins slowed the signals coursing through her brain. She couldn't even force her eyes to open no matter how many times she told them to. She couldn't make her mouth move to form words. It may have been just as well. If she was awake, could she handle the longing? The most painful part was that he only told her about his pain because she was asleep. Confession is good for the soul, but hers was unconscious. He knew he couldn't say these things to anyone else but his sleeping beauty. It broke her heart to know that he had nobody. That he had to go through his painful existence all alone. He didn't deserve it. She thought of the kids at school who mocked her for her appearance and her gift. She thought of the school psychologist who told her she was just asking for it. She thought of the night worker who slid in quietly and stood over her restrained frame as he took his pleasure from the sight of her helpless body. Finally, she thought of Tristan Byron, who protected her for no apparent reason at all. All of the other people seemed to have such great lives, despite the awful things they did. And then there was him. As Tristan sat by her bedside, she could feel his tears drop onto her pale skin and roll off. She tried again to make her body rise. Nothing. She tried to move her hand. If only she could wipe his tears away or simply clasp his hand. Nothing.

“What would you think if you could open your eyes and see me?” he asked her.

“I would think you were perfect.” she said.

No response. That must mean her words never broke the surface. She cried in frustration, but her body didn't move with the wracking sobs shaking her soul. She wanted so badly to tell him that she had seen him. One time when he was walking out the door, her eyes had flitted open just enough for her to see him walk past her window. She couldn't say he looked exactly as she had imagined, because she never imagined what he had looked like. Every time his low, quiet voice filled her ears, her mind was taken on a journey. To where was always a mystery. Sometimes he talked about the computer accounts he hacked just because he could with details on how he did it. Last week, he told her about how his uncles diner was being renovated and they were unveiling a new menu, of which he had tried everything on it at least twice. But today, the conversation started when he told her about the girl who he had liked since first grade. They didn't really talk much in high school but she had called him in tears two nights ago. This mystery beauty had worked some on camera magic for her boyfriend and he wasn't as willing to keep it private as she had hoped. She had called Tristan and he had come valiantly to her rescue. Of course he had. He was so appropriately named after a knight of old Britain. After she had given him her gushing thanks, he was sure things would turn around at school. He went up to her and said hi, which was the most he had dared in years. She smiled at him so brilliantly and her hello was almost like a song. Her sweet, high voice thanked him again profusely and she started talking about how bad things were with her boyfriend. Tristan just listened and apologized. He could treat her better, but guys like him didn't just ask girls like her out. Maybe he couldn't ask her, but if she would just give him the time, he could show her. As her friends approached them, she darted away form him mid sentence with a quick “bye” and ran to meet them.

“What were you doing taking to Byron?” they asked.

“He just asked me a question about homework.” she said, not looking back at him once.

“We didn't think you'd be that desperate after Craig!” a pretty redhead cackled.

She cackled right along with them as they sauntered off in a pack of shallow beauty.

It was okay. He had one girl who he could talk to. One who would never talk back. One who could never break his heart. One who could never hurt him. Yet another one who couldn't love him. Or so he thought.

As she lay in her bed, she wanted to touch him more than she wanted her own freedom. She wanted to touch the soft stubble she had seen upon his round face that day. She wanted to put her arms around his neck and slide into his lap, letting his huge arms enfold her. She would place her head on his chest and it would feel soft and warm, just like his eyes. She would nestle into him and be safe. That stupid high school girl was to blind to see what she saw in him without even using her eyes. And that day she was finally able to use her eyes, she wasn't disappointed at all. She heard his considerable weight shift in the chair as he slowly rose to leave.

“No!”

His loud footfalls halted. So a noise had escaped her cracked lips after all. A soft kiss landed on her forehead and her mind exploded with more joy than she had felt in months. Her hand flitted and grabbed for his weakly. She felt his large fingers squeeze hers before letting her small hand gently fall. His footfalls retreated slowly and she heard to door close. The soft thud matched that of her heart.

Maybe they were lucky she couldn't kiss him. After all, he was an intern and she was just a patient.