over him. It would be their first Christmas together as a married couple, and he was condemning her to servitude as a nursemaid. While neither of them were necessarily sentimental about the holidays, he was aware of how she worked too hard—much too hard not to be herself during her reprieves from school.
As Kasper gave in to the cusps of sleep, he thought over all the ways he would make it up to her. With his face semi-improved this time next year, he could take her skiing in the Alps, or maybe to Australia so she could see the rare animals of the world she admired so…Who knew what he could do with a normal appearance? Oh, how the universe could open up to the both of them.
Chapter 7
In that world between consciousness and dreams, Kasper still counted backward from ten—though he was aware that his mouth was no longer capable of moving. His mind and body were detached from one another, distant somehow. He probably would have panicked at the lack of synergization, but Kasper found himself incapable of caring—the numbness the only thing his mind and body now seeming to have in common.
Every so often, through his thinly taped eyelids, he would see the bright lights of the operating room beaming over him, hear the beeping of one machine or another, and the murmured voices of one of the surgeons, perhaps a nurse. Other than these few elements, he remained aware of little else, his mind unfocused and unable to concentrate on any one thing. He was happy for those moments when his mind drifted to Emilia, even if it was usually to the last time he saw her—worried for him, and stricken with anxiety for this impending surgery. Oh, how he loved her! If she was with him now—and he had the strength—he would take her in his arms and kiss her until she giggled and snorted and begged him to stop.
Kasper felt a pain then, not in his body, mind you, but rather in his heart. For whatever reason, he was suddenly reminded of how closely he came to losing his love less than two years ago. Because of that wretched Cyrus, Emilia could very easily have been taken from this earth, without any help from him.
That additional thought brought forth more pain in his chest, and had he been able, Kasper would have lunged forward and grabbed his arm, and called out or cursed the God who created him.
Really, it was Cyrus he should have cursed. In those first weeks after Cyrus’s attempt on Emilia’s life, Kasper had been so relieved to call Emilia his own again, so happy, he did not mind the new scar on his own head, the terrible swelling or the stitches. What he did mind, hated with every breath in him, was Emilia’s nightmares, how she called out for him in the night, crying and hysterical, thinking they were both dead, but not together.
Another flush of hurt followed, this time bringing with it an increase of beeping of the machines and a shuffling of smartly selected shoes. Like in those instances when he had managed to get Emilia to drift peacefully back to sleep, Kasper considered all the ways he would make Cyrus suffer for what he had done, the damage he could and would have done. Ironically, this anger gave him a sense of peace. He seemed to acknowledge it, his body fell into sync with himself. And in that final moment of clarity, the complete and clear memory of Cyrus touching Emilia’s arm and how she was forced to welcome the advance made his heart burst—love and rage with every beat.
***
Emilia was still finishing her clinical exam when she got the call. It was going relatively well too—the benefit of studying and lots of practice. Luckily, she had thought to inform her professor ahead of time that her husband was scheduled for surgery that day, and timing alone assured that Emilia processed most of the paperwork of the hamster’s x-rays, so when the time came to secure the plaster, she could leave, making the work split between her and her lab partner even.
To keep
As Kasper gave in to the cusps of sleep, he thought over all the ways he would make it up to her. With his face semi-improved this time next year, he could take her skiing in the Alps, or maybe to Australia so she could see the rare animals of the world she admired so…Who knew what he could do with a normal appearance? Oh, how the universe could open up to the both of them.
Chapter 7
In that world between consciousness and dreams, Kasper still counted backward from ten—though he was aware that his mouth was no longer capable of moving. His mind and body were detached from one another, distant somehow. He probably would have panicked at the lack of synergization, but Kasper found himself incapable of caring—the numbness the only thing his mind and body now seeming to have in common.
Every so often, through his thinly taped eyelids, he would see the bright lights of the operating room beaming over him, hear the beeping of one machine or another, and the murmured voices of one of the surgeons, perhaps a nurse. Other than these few elements, he remained aware of little else, his mind unfocused and unable to concentrate on any one thing. He was happy for those moments when his mind drifted to Emilia, even if it was usually to the last time he saw her—worried for him, and stricken with anxiety for this impending surgery. Oh, how he loved her! If she was with him now—and he had the strength—he would take her in his arms and kiss her until she giggled and snorted and begged him to stop.
Kasper felt a pain then, not in his body, mind you, but rather in his heart. For whatever reason, he was suddenly reminded of how closely he came to losing his love less than two years ago. Because of that wretched Cyrus, Emilia could very easily have been taken from this earth, without any help from him.
That additional thought brought forth more pain in his chest, and had he been able, Kasper would have lunged forward and grabbed his arm, and called out or cursed the God who created him.
Really, it was Cyrus he should have cursed. In those first weeks after Cyrus’s attempt on Emilia’s life, Kasper had been so relieved to call Emilia his own again, so happy, he did not mind the new scar on his own head, the terrible swelling or the stitches. What he did mind, hated with every breath in him, was Emilia’s nightmares, how she called out for him in the night, crying and hysterical, thinking they were both dead, but not together.
Another flush of hurt followed, this time bringing with it an increase of beeping of the machines and a shuffling of smartly selected shoes. Like in those instances when he had managed to get Emilia to drift peacefully back to sleep, Kasper considered all the ways he would make Cyrus suffer for what he had done, the damage he could and would have done. Ironically, this anger gave him a sense of peace. He seemed to acknowledge it, his body fell into sync with himself. And in that final moment of clarity, the complete and clear memory of Cyrus touching Emilia’s arm and how she was forced to welcome the advance made his heart burst—love and rage with every beat.
***
Emilia was still finishing her clinical exam when she got the call. It was going relatively well too—the benefit of studying and lots of practice. Luckily, she had thought to inform her professor ahead of time that her husband was scheduled for surgery that day, and timing alone assured that Emilia processed most of the paperwork of the hamster’s x-rays, so when the time came to secure the plaster, she could leave, making the work split between her and her lab partner even.
To keep
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