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A small sigh rushes past Zayne’s lips as his eyes glance up from his computer screen, staring intently at the wall-mounted clock above the door.
6:30.
His eyes narrow behind his glasses, a thoughtful expression on his face.
‘Her appointment was scheduled for 6. She’s never been late a day in her life.’
The thought would normally have brought a smile to his lips had it not been for the last time he’d seen her. Her grandmother’s death was still a very fresh, very raw wound, and the Hunter seemed intent on shoving her feelings down, perhaps to be dealt with later, or more likely forgotten. Cirina had always been the type to feel the need to be strong for everyone around her. Very much like a mother hen, of sorts.
His office phone ringing jostles him from his thoughts, and he almost eagerly reaches for it, but when the phone reaches his ear, the voice that greets him is not the one he’d hoped to hear.
“Dr. Zayne? Miss Ward is now officially a no-show for her appointment. Shall I go ahead and charge her a cancellation fee?”
A cancellation fee. Seriously?
“Please don’t. I will reach out to Miss Ward and reschedule the appointment myself.”
Without even giving her a moment to respond, he hangs up the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. The new receptionist Akso Hospital had hired was efficient with her job duties, but she certainly seemed to lack a modicum of decorum, especially in situations where unexpected things happen and people miss their appointments.
Zayne rises from his office chair, the muscles in his legs stretching almost gleefully, happy to be moving after being seated for so long. Since Cirina had been scheduled as his last appointment for the day, as she often was, there was nothing keeping him at the hospital tonight. A rare event. As he pulls his arms through the sleeves of his coat, only one thought occupied his mind.
‘I need to check on Cirina.’
Three days had passed since he’d seen her last, and it was almost like she’d just disappeared off the grid. Text messages went unanswered, calls left to go to voicemail, never to be returned, and although he didn’t want to bother her while she processed her grief, he couldn’t ignore the sinking pit in his stomach. He’d learned to read her in the many hours they’d spent together these past few months, and this was very much unlike her.
Even if she was angry with him for disturbing her, he needed to know she was all right.
Zayne’s car easily slides to a stop outside the curb leading up to the apartment, cutting through the snowy slush that resided in the streets. As he gets out, the crisp, cool Winter air greets his face along with the gentle snowfall that had been gracing Linkon City all day. Moving around to the trunk of his car, he opens it, pulling out the various groceries he’d purchased at the market before coming here. Best-case scenario, she’s already eaten, and he could rest easy knowing that she was still taking care of herself. If not, he was now more than prepared to cook a delicious dinner for the two of them.
He ascends the five steps leading to her porch, and frowns at the sight before him. Three boxes of varying sizes were tucked into the corner of her small porch, and from the looks of the wet cardboard spots, it seems like they’d been out here for at least a day or two. Carefully, he places the grocery bags by the boxes and reaches up, feeling along the top of her doorframe for the spare key he knew she kept up there. Although she’d made it clear in the past that he was welcome to visit her anytime and use the key, he still couldn’t help but feel that he was breaking and entering, especially unannounced like this. What if she didn’t want to see him?
Within moments, his fingers find the key and before his mind could offer any more protests, he quietly opens the front door, bringing in the groceries and setting them on the counter, and then making a second trip to go and retrieve the packages. Hopefully the items within weren’t damaged.
As he looked around, Zayne observed that her apartment seemed normal; nothing was in disarray, and the furniture appeared undisturbed. Cirina was always a clean person, but he couldn’t ignore that the apartment just seemed….untouched. Like she wasn’t even home. The only telltale sign that he’d found of her being home was the sight of her phone resting on the counter by the door. It was dead, but he knew that she wouldn’t dare leave her apartment without it.
“Cirina?” He calls out, waiting a moment to see if she’d answer him.
But nothing.
Slowly, his feet carry him through her living room, and down the narrow hallway that led to her bathroom and bedroom. In the dark hallway, he could see the light in the bathroom from underneath the door, and although that brought some comfort to him, the lack of any sound coming from the room seemed to elicit a chill under his skin. Against his better judgement, his hand wraps around the doorknob, and he pushes the door open with a small creaking sound.
And there she was, lying on the bathroom floor on her side, curled up with her torso twisted so that her cheek rested against the cold cement floor. The black dress that hugged her frame was the very same he’d seen her wear to her grandmother’s funeral three days prior. She hadn’t even taken off the black high heeled shoes that she wore to the ceremony. She didn’t acknowledge him at all, simply opting to stare into space. His eyes take note of her chest moving with her breathing, and relief washes over him.
“Cirina,” he calls to her softly, kneeling on one knee next to her. “How long have you been laying here? You can’t be comfortable.”
Upon further inspection, the texture of her hair was oily, not at all like the state it was usually in. Her hair was something Cirina took pride in, and she went to great lengths to keep it healthy. As his eyes take in her face, he could see the shadows under her eyes, a striking purple against porcelain skin. The sight alone was enough to pull at his heart strings. He should have made more of an effort to check on her sooner.
Hesitantly, his hand reaches for her bare arm, fingertips ghosting along the skin there.
“Cirina,” he tries again. “How long have you been laying here?”
A long moment passes, then two, then three. His hand continues to rub soothingly at her arm.
“I think…I think I attract death…”
It was the first thing she’d said to him in three days, but the sorrow in her tone nearly broke him.
“What do you mean, darling?”
“Every time I get close to someone…..they die. My parents, Caleb….grandmother. They’re all gone…Who will the next be, I wonder…”
Zayne is quiet for a moment, unsure of how best to proceed. The poor thing was clearly in shock, and the list of the wrong things he could say was quite extensive.
“I’m moving in slow motion…”
He tilts his head toward her, listening intently.
“I feel like…I’m moving in slow motion. Like, I’m moving in slow motion and everything around me is just…moving so fast and I just want to go back. Back to when things were normal. Back to when my grandmother and Caleb were still alive. But I can’t. I can’t go back. And I’m just…stuck.”
Cirina’s words seem to cut through Zayne’s entire being. It hurt him immeasurably to see the woman he’d fallen head over heels for in such a state, and it angered him because he had never felt so powerless before.
But dammit, he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.
He shifts his body, sitting next to her as his hand continued to rub at her arm.
“Everyone’s been asking about you,” he offers, only to be met with an emotionless scoff.
“They’re all hovering over me, waiting for me to do something. To say something, to yell, or flip out and cry. And I’m happy to play my part. I’m happy to say the lines and do whatever it is that I’m supposed to be doing to make everyone feel more comfortable. But I don’t….I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be this person. I don’t know…I don’t know who this person is…”
A single tear falls from her eye, sliding over the bridge of her nose and dripping onto the floor beneath her face. Zayne’s fingers move to gently dab at the wet trail it left behind, his other hand coming up to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. Something seems to stir within him, and the doctor rises to his feet, circling around Cirina’s head and moving so that he can lie down beside her, unintentionally mirroring the same position she lay in. His hand rests next to her own, flat on the floor.
“You,” he starts. “Are everything to me. You’re smart, brave, and compassionate. Your ability to empathize with others is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Your skills as a Hunter are unmatched, and it isn’t because of the Aether Core in your heart. Your determination is inspiring, even if you sometimes overwork yourself as a result. Every day, you inspire people. You inspire me.”
Cirina’s eyes, normally so vibrant and full of life, meet his almost uncertainly. She seemed like she’d wanted to believe what he said, but something was holding her back.
The hand resting near her own reaches for it, cradling it gently as his thumb strokes the back of it.
“I know it must feel like you’re alone, but just know that I’m here. I’m here and I won’t leave you unless you want me to. If you ever feel like the world is wearing you down, know that I will help you bare its weight. If you’re happy, I’ll be right there to celebrate with you. If you feel as if you don’t know who you are, I’ll always remind you.”
His words were sincere, and they seemed to hit Cirina hard. She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, and when she opens them once more, they were glistening with tears that were threatening to fall.
“I miss her…I hate her, but I miss her. I hate that I’ll never know why she did what she did…”
Zayne nods solemnly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “We’ll find the answers. I promise. It may take some time, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, if that’s what you wish.”
Cirina is quiet as she considers his words, the only sound being that of the soft breaths each of them took. Eventually, her gaze settles back upon his face once more, a little clearer this time.
“You must be uncomfortable,” she whispers. “You-you shouldn’t be lying here.”
His mouth twitches a little, his eyes full of mirth.
“Neither should you,” he counters, reaching forward to gently tap the point of her nose without letting go of her hand.
She’s quiet for a moment, but when she speaks again, it was almost as if she sounded ashamed.
“I can’t…I can’t move.”
Zayne studies her for a while, continuing his comforting motions.
“I can help you, if you want.”
She hiccups, shaking her head slightly.
“I don’t want to burden you.”
“But you see, my dear, you’re not burdening me. You’re never burdening me. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not excited to see you. To hold you. To kiss you. I enjoy caring for you.” His eyes lock with her own as he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing them gently against the knuckles of her fingers. Cirina’s heart swells as she looks at her beloved, and she can’t help but feel as though he’d chased away some of the shadows that clung to her.
Suddenly, the sound of running water from her bath’s faucet rings in her ears. Her head moves slowly, leaning back to look curiously at Zayne, who was adjusting the temperature of the water with his hands. He reaches to his left, hand wrapping around a leg of the bath stool she kept next to the tub, and dragging it closer to him.
“What are you doing?” She asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the faucet.
Zayne looks back at her, smiling gently.
“I’m going to wash your hair.”
“You don’t-”
“I’m aware I don’t have to. But I want to.”
Cirina’s eyes follow his form as he moves about the bathroom, setting one of her towels by the stool and using another to create a cushion on the lip of the tub for her neck to rest on. When Zayne returns to her once more, he kneels down beside her, the warmth in his smile more than enough to make her heart flutter in her chest.
“Where do you keep your sleepwear?”
“I-in my dresser in my bedroom. Top drawer…”
No sooner had the words left her mouth was he on the move once more. After a moment, his form once again enters her view, leaning over to turn the knobs of the tub’s faucet until the water stopped running. In his other hand was a soft black tank top and a pair of dark purple shorts, which are folded neatly and set atop the sink counter. He leans down, pressing his lips to her temple.
“Everything’s ready. If you’d like to try and sit up yourself, I’ll help if you want. Or if you prefer, I can move you myself if you cannot.”
He watches as Cirina’s brows knit together, and he could practically hear the gears turning in her brain.
Without answering him, she tries to use her arms to sit herself up, but her strength was almost non-existent, and Zayne’s hand is quick to reach for her head to prevent it from hitting the hard floor below.
“You’re all right. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Zayne could immediately see the frustration and shame burning behind her eyes. Cirina had always been a very independent woman, and the intense feelings of helplessness brimming within her must have been infuriating. His hands gently reach under her back, guiding her to a sitting position before one of his arms moves under her knees.
“I’m going to get you seated by the bath, all right?”
He waits for Cirina to nod at him before moving, his arms snug around her body. His ability to move her with ease surprises her, even if she wouldn’t admit to it verbally. A memory of her teasing him for being a twig when they were younger comes to her mind, and a sense of warmth washes over her.
“What are you thinking about?”
She hums quietly as Zayne’s hands rest her head against the towel on the tub’s ledge, making sure to drape every strand of her hair over the edge.
“Just a thing I remembered from when we were kids.”
“Tell me about it.”
As Zayne reaches for the hand held shower head, she frowns.
“Your sleeves will get all wet.”
His gaze followers her own down to the sleeves of his black button up, which his hands promptly reach for to undo the wrist clasp. Once his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he smiles at her, leaning forward to cup her cheek with one hand and kiss the other gently.
“Ever the thoughtful one.”
Zayne starts with her bangs, using one hand to shield the water from hitting her face as the other moves the shower head, soaking her long brunette hair. His hands are meticulous in their work, a habit hardly surprising of a doctor. Still, Cirina found herself unable to fight the feeling of being special to him.
“You never told me about what you remembered,” Zayne says, sneaking a glance in her direction as he reaches over the tub to grab her shampoo.
He listens intently as she describes the memory to him, chuckling softly under his breath.
“Not much of a twig anymore, am I?”
“Hey, I bet I could still kick your butt.”
“Is that so?” He smiles at her. “I’d like to see you try that.”
The green-apple scented shampoo fills her nostrils as Zayne lathers his hands up with it. But before his hands reach her hair, her words catch him by surprise.
“Thank you, Zayne.”
His focus shifts to her face, smiling down at her.
“You would do the same for me were I in your position without a moment’s hesitation. There’s no need to-”
He stops talking the moment her hand touches his forearm, and he looks at her questioningly.
Cirina was looking at him like he was the most precious person in the world, and it made his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you,” she says again as tears start to fall from her eyes. “I’m sorry to be such a burden…”
With a hum, he leans forward, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as his hands start to lather her hair with shampoo. Since his hands were out of commission until they were rinsed, he figured this was the next best thing.
“Silly girl. As I said earlier, you’re never a burden. And I’ll repeat it as many times as you need until you believe it.”
She’s quiet then, allowing him to focus on the task at hand, sniffling quietly as though she’d disturb him if she did it too loud. Zayne smiles to himself, running his soapy fingers gently through her hair, stopping to massage the shampoo into the skin of her scalp every so often, as he knew she liked. Ever since they started seeing each other more often, and eventually began dating, Cirina always seemed to love having her hair played with, and he immensely enjoyed the reactions he’d earn from it.
As the water chases away the shampoo, he finds himself marveling at how easy it seemed to return to its natural state, soft and glossy. Once his hands were clean once more, he reaches over, shutting the water off and letting the tub’s drain take care of the rest. Zayne leans over, peppering kisses along her cheek to her ear.
“Good girl,” he whispers, smirking as Cirina shivers.
“Why must you do that,” she huffs. “You know what it does to me.”
“I’m well aware. That’s what makes it fun.”
His hands guide Cirina to a sitting position on the stool, and he’s quick to wrap her wet hair in a towel.
“Now that your hair is clean, how about dinner?” He asks her. Although he wanted to, he didn’t inquire about when she’d eaten last, knowing that it was likely quite some time ago. And now was hardly the time to scold her for neglecting to care for herself.
“Dinner?”
“I stopped at the supermarket before coming here. I figured we could have dinner together, if you wanted.”
She stops to contemplate his words for a moment, and just as he suspected, she nods at him. He stands briefly, reaching over to the sink to grab her fresh clothes and handing them to her.
“Will you be all right changing on your own? As much as I like you in this dress, I do think more comfortable clothing is warranted here.”
Cirina tucks her chin in as her cheeks burn, and Zayne smirks as he bends down to reach for the straps of her heels, carefully unbuckling them and slipping them off her feet.
“I should be fine…”
“All right. I’ll start cooking, then. Just come out when you’re ready.”
Pressing one last kiss to her fingers, Zayne rises back to his feet and walks out of the bathroom, heading back toward the kitchen. Cirina smiles at him as he leaves, her mind wondering what on earth she’d done to deserve such a wonderful person in her life. As she slowly peels her black dress off, her bones creak in protest. The only concept of time passage that had been directly available to her was the small window just under the ceiling in the bathroom. She counted three different rises and fall of the sunlight. But while three days seemed like a long time, to her, it had only felt like merely hours.
The smell of meat cooking wafts into the room, drawing Cirina from her thoughts. Her hunger seemed to hit her all at once, and now she was all too eager to sit and eat with Zayne. Carefully, she pulls on her tank top and shorts, and makes her way toward the kitchen.
“Good, you’re here.”
Though he didn’t look up from the pan currently cooking two steaks on it, he could still hear the sound of her footsteps, something she made sure to train herself to do when she wasn’t on the hunt in order to announce her presence to people. Zayne hums as Cirina’s arms wrap around his stomach, and her cheek is pressed against his back.
“That smells great.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, rubbing her arm tenderly with one hand.
She sighs against him softly, her warm breath hitting the fabric of his shirt. When her eyes flutter open again, she starts to pull away when she realizes that her hair was still a bit wet and dampening his shirt.
“Zayne, your shirt-”
The hand that had been rubbing her arms tightens around them. Not nearly enough to hurt, but firm enough to keep her in place and stop her from pulling away. Once she relaxes into him again, his hand starts rubbing her arms once more.
“It’s all right, Ciri. It takes more than a little water to stop me.”
She blushes at his nickname for her, one that he seemed to use in the tenderest of moments, just between the two of them. Only when the food was ready to be plated did he gently coax her to move, and even then, he was reluctant to let her go. Once the table was set, Zayne turns back to Cirina, offering her his hand.
“Come. Let’s eat.”
Dinner with Zayne, while always romantic, felt strangely more intimate. His eyes hardly left her, and his hand never let go of her. From holding her free hand to caressing her knee, his touch was always there, as though he were afraid to let go for fear that she’d disappear.
A nice meal with the apple of her eye, a funny movie, and a playful cleanup session later, Zayne was snuggled up with her in her bed, holding her close as he read a book aloud. Every so often, Zayne found himself looking down at his darling, stroking her hair with his free hand or giving her a comforting squeeze. Her head rested atop his chest, likely listening to his heart beat in addition to the rumble of his voice. As he turned the page, she stirred gently, her body shifting slightly under the blankets.
“Zayne…?” She asks softly.
“Yes, my love?”
Cirina swallows heavily, gripping him a little tighter.
“Can you stay with me tonight?”
He looks at her, brushing her bangs away from her face.
“Would it make you feel better?”
Wordlessly, she nods. Zayne smiles at her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“Then of course I will.”
After marking the page, he sets his book on the nightstand, standing to remove his shoes, socks, belt, and the button-up shirt he wore that day. Dexterous hands pull back the bed’s blankets on his side of the bed and he slips under them, reaching to pull Cirina back to him.
“Is this better?”
“Yes.”
“Good Now try to get some rest. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”