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But I don’t know if that’s what’s best for her and I know I need to do exactly that. I’m going to try to respect whatever decision she makes, but fuck, it’s hard. I want to shake her awake and ask what this means for her, for us. I don’t.
I stand up. “I’ll give you a turn,” I say. “You can look after them for a bit.”
He side-eyes me. “Did you forget I’m not a doctor?”
“I think you’ve proven that you can handle yourself,” I say, slapping my knees before I get up.
When I do, I see Malon’s eyes flutter open.
He looks a little disoriented when he wakes up. His hand goes to his head, as if he can’t believe that his head is there. He looks at his hands. “What the fuck,” he says, his voice a whisper.
Luke tilts his head. “Malon?”
He snaps his neck up to look at the priest, his eyes narrowing. “What did you do to me?”
“Nothing,” Luke says. “You chose this. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he says after a beat. He puts his hand on his chest. “I feel so…light. Is this what humans normally feel like?”
I laugh. “When they’re children,” I reply.
“This is wild,” he says. He closes his eyes tightly and I watch as he moves his lips quickly, as if he’s saying a prayer. He opens his eyes again and shakes his head. “My head is…so quiet. I feel like I can finally think.”
Luke walks up to him, his head tilted. “Can I try something?”
Malon bites down on his lower lip, his green eyes shining. “Is it something I want?”
“I don’t know,” Luke says. “Can I?”
Malon nods. “Yes,” he says. Luke leans down.
He’s praying in Spanish as he puts the sign of the cross on Malon’s forehead. “Did that hurt?” Luke asks as he straightens up again.
“No,” he says. “I liked it.”
Luke laughs. “I think you’re just a human now,” he says. “I mean, an asshole, but a human.”
“What?” Malon asks. “So I’m mortal?”
“Guess you’re going to find that out,” Luke says. “Hopefully not too soon.”
Malon cocks his head. He looks like he’s about to ask Luke another question when Trine stirs. She looks around the room before her gaze focuses on me.
I go over to her, lean down so I can hold her hand. “Hi,” I say, my hand on hers. I’m trying to reassure her, but I’m about to sneakily take her pulse. “How are you doing?”
“I’m so tired,” she says, her voice croaky.
We both look at each other for a few seconds. “You should get some rest,” I say.
“No,” she replies, her grip around my hand tightening. “Don’t leave me, please.”
I don’t blame her for being scared.
Fuck, I’m scared to.
Now is the time to ask her what we're going to do, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't want her to tell me that she doesn't need us anymore. She squeezes my hand again, flashing me a shaky smile. When she meets my gaze, I want to hold her tightly and bury my face in her hair, smell the sweet scent of her perfume.
I want to tell her how much I love her.
