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Connie was sitting on an especially uncomfortable, wooden chair next to the bed in silence, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped under his chin, his eyes firmly fixed on the unconscious girl lying in front of him. He had been watching the steady rise and fall of her chest for so long now that he’s already synchronized his breathing with hers. Even though the medics assured him that Sasha’s life wasn’t in danger anymore, he didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t want her to find herself alone in this dull, poorly lit room when she wakes up.
The temporary infirmary chamber served its purpose and – in compliance with Captain Levi’s orders – was immaculately clean, however, it wasn’t exactly a warm and friendly place. Its gray stone floor and bare whitewashed walls created a quite chilly atmosphere, and the single tiny window on the opposite wall didn’t let much light in, not even during daytime. It was plainly furnished with a narrow bed on the right and a little wooden table on the left with a few chairs surrounding it.
Connie heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes wearily, taking his concerned look off the girl for a moment. He hadn’t slept since they got back from Shiganshina and started to feel exhaustion grow on him. He yawned, stretched in his seat and slowly leaned forward, laying his head on Sasha’s knees. His hand reached out and touched hers vaguely, hesitantly caressing her fingers and the back of her hand.
His eyes were burning from exhaustion as he closed them. The darkness he saw inside his head was a welcome change at first, but once his thoughts weren’t completely filled with the girl in front of her, flashes of horrid images crowded his mind. He frowned on the fresh, painful memories and snapped his eyes open.
He gasped and tried to synchronize their breathing again to calm himself down. He looked up and loosened his grip on the girl’s wrist. He didn’t realize that he was squeezing it with both hands so hard that his fingers left four fading, white marks on her skin. He let it go slowly. He propped his chin on his knuckles on one hand, while the other reached for her again. He touched her fingers one by one and then gently covered her hand with his. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, slid his hand under hers and caressed her palm with the back of his knuckles as he moved them upwards slowly, eventually interlaced their fingers.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and turned his head to see her again. He pressed his cheek against her knees. “Sasha? Can you hear me?” he murmured.
As he could have expected, there came no answer. The girl remained motionless in the bed. She was paler than usual, and even though she had been unconscious only for a bit more than a day, Connie could have sworn that she lost some weight as well. He was sure that even in her sleep she was starving. “The moment you wake up, I’m gonna’ make you something to eat,” he promised. “Something that you like, like pork chops with mashed potato or rice, and vanilla bunt cake with a good deal of powdered sugar for dessert. Sounds good, right?”
His voice was silent. He didn’t want to wake her before she gets enough rest to completely recover, but he missed talking to her. He missed hearing her voice. He wanted her to talk to him and assure him that she was fine, that she was already feeling better. He wanted her to tell him that she had fully recovered and was in no pain. “I’ll try to get you some extra portion of meat as well,” he continued softly. “Maybe Jean could sneak some out, I think he’s having kitchen duty this week.”
As the last few words left his mouth, he felt his throat tighten sharply. He swallowed and pressed his lips together. “You’re planning to wake up this week, right? Right?” He swallowed once more and took a deep breath. “Please?”
“Please,” he repeated in a whisper as his eyelids slowly drooped together again. His head got heavier, and he felt the little remaining energy in his body leaving him.
When Sasha finally woke up a couple of hours later the first thing she saw was the boy, sleeping silently with his head in her lap, still holding onto her hand like his life depended on it. She didn’t want to wake him up, although, she could have used someone to bring her some food. She was starving.