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The last thing she remembered was the nurses coming in.
Leah opens her eyes in a slumbered haze, her eyelids heavy and her body not feeling like it was hers. Carefully sitting up, avoiding any further harm upon her body, she starts to take in the room. The wooden walls are an indicator that she's still here, stuck in a sleeping quarter that more resembles a prison cell.
The accusing words of “Doctor” Faber echo in her head, her mind running yet again. The worry and the doubt gnawing away at her. She’s sure that something else is going on, these people aren’t their rescuers, and likely to be their captors instead. But how does she know she isn’t going crazy again? Normally Fatin would be here, hugging her, telling her that she isn’t crazy, that she believes her, that she loves her.
Leah misses her more than anything, the worry making her physically sick. She needs her touch, her smell, her voice, her taste.
Fatin is the only person who can ground her.
Before all this, being lonely was her thing. The lack of people surrounding her felt like a good thing, social interaction was suffocating. But now, after spending weeks on an island with 7 other girls, who had begun as strangers and became her closest friends, loneliness was a bad thing.
The constant touches, the laps to lay her head on, the hand to hold, she misses it all.
She gets up, looking into the small mirror in the suffocating room, pulling away the shirt to examine the damage. Bruises have started to form, indicating that she was out for a while, and they cover her shoulders and arms. A dark blue, that is bound to turn purple and yellow in a few days.
Well, the psychological hurt is far worse than the physical damage that has been done to her. Although her entire body is stiff, her mind is going darker than she ever was.
Before the bruises even get a chance to get close to fading, they get out.
The unlocking of the doors, finding the others, hearing Fatin yell her name (weirdly mirroring the way she had yelled Fatin’s name on the island). Finally hugging her, clinging tightly, ignoring the burning pain it caused. Lips meeting hers once again, tears falling down her cheeks.
The memories were fresh and vivid in her mind, but everything that happened after her lips met Fatin’s, is a blur.
The only thing that did stick in her mind is that Fatin hadn’t really let her go since their escape, the constant touches reassuring her while waiting and while answering questions.
When they finally are allowed to leave, and they are informed that hotel rooms have been reserved for them (Fatin and Leah sharing, just like Toni and Shelby), Fatin grabs her upper arm tightly, and she can’t hide the flinch that is caused by the contact on the bruise.
Her dark eyes grow wide, “Leah? Are you okay?”
Fuck.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” She lies while biting her lip.
Fatin gives her a look that tells her that she doesn’t buy it, but the others arrive, loudly talking about the luxury the hotel will have, and Fatin joins in instead of pressing further (which Leah is really grateful for).
When they get to their hotel room and start to get ready for bed, Leah stalls and avoids taking her sweater off at any cost. She knows that her body is covered in colourful bruises, some fading, some not. She feels ashamed of them. They feel like a sign of her weakness.
“Hey, Leah?”
Fatin’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and Leah looks at her. She has on a loose shirt that has been given to them, and it’s honestly weird to see Fatin wearing something without a print, just plain grey. She has her arms open and motions for her to come. Leah can’t help but smile at the adorable sight, and she walks up to her and hugs her softly.
“Fuck, I missed you,” She whispers into Fatin’s ear.
“I missed you too,” Fatin whispers back, rubbing over the small of her back.
She kisses Leah’s neck, and moves her arm, softly placing it on Leah’s arm as she did before at the station.
Leah can’t help the tensing of her muscles, and Fatin pulls her hand away quickly as if she was hit by electricity. Her brows are raised, confusion and fear covering her face. Leah looks down, avoiding the searching brown eyes.
So, Fatin grabs her face and forces her to make eye contact, “Leah.”
The sternness of her voice and the concern in her eyes make her feel guilty, although none of this was her fault.
“Listen, sorry, it’s just that I didn’t want to mention it but-” Leah rambles, but Fatin cuts her off.
“I’m not mad, baby,” Fatin says, softly rubbing her thumb over her cheek, the nickname makes Leah’s chest flutter, “Just show me how bad it is.”
She just stares into Fatin’s eyes, staying quiet.
“If you’re comfortable with that, obviously, it’s totally fine if you’re not, I’ll just-” Fatin rambles, letting go of her face in embarrassment, but Leah interrupts.
“Yeah, no it’s just,” She inhales shakily, “It’s bad.”
Fatin nods with a tight smile, brows furrowed.
Leah takes off her sweater, her hands clammy.
The moment it hits the ground, she hears a gasp and she meets the brown eyes.
She really wished Fatin wasn’t so hard to read, because the expression on her face right now is impossible to decipher, and Leah wants to know what she’s thinking.
Fatin steps closer and reaches out with a shaky hand, tracing over one of the bruises carefully as if Leah is a sandcastle that’ll fall apart with the lightest touch.
Leah’s heart skips a beat, her breath hitching in her throat.
“They did this to you?” Fatin’s voice is quiet and tense, different than Leah has ever heard it.
She just nods in response, not trusting her voice.
Fatin moves her arms to wrap around Leah’s neck, still with apprehension as if she still expected her to fall apart with one touch. Now brown eyes burn into hers and suddenly she can see the anger in them, the flame dancing behind them, ready to expand with the slightest bit of oxygen.
“They will get what they deserve,” Fatin says with so much conviction, so much pain, so much anger, that it gives her chills.
“Fatin, they might-” Leah starts, the uncharacteristic faith Fatin has made her fear for what might happen when it doesn’t go as it should.
“I meant what I said,'' She says, without breaking eye contact, the fire still burning in her dark eyes, a protectiveness she rarely showed.
The eye contact is broken by Fatin, who leans in and kisses the bruise on her upper arm.
“I’m sorry,” Her voice is merely a whisper against the skin, the warm breath giving Leah chills.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Leah says, moving her hand to Fatin’s hair, softly threading through the dark locks with her fingers.
She looks up, and Leah sees the tears in her eyes, “I should have been there.”
“You couldn’t have,” She says, moving her hand to cup her face.
“I know, but I should have. I mean, I should have-'' Leah cuts her off with a soft kiss, and she feels her relax under the touch. She would never get used to this, being able to kiss Fatin at any moment she wanted to.
When they break apart, Fatin pulls her in for a hug, carefully so as not to hurt her. Leah can feel how tense she still is, and rubs her hands over her shoulder blades in an attempt to make it better.
“I promise, I’m gonna take care of you,” Fatin whispers and kisses the bruise on her shoulder.
Leah just hums in response, feeling the tension slowly leave Fatin’s body while tracing circles over her back.
“Do you want me to run a bath for you?” She says against the skin and goosebumps rise all over Leah’s skin again, “Or do you just want to cuddle?”
“Can I have both?”
“Yes, you can,” Fatin says, finally a small smile on her face again.