Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 12.4: The Test

She put up her good hand in protest. "No! It was a lot worse. But it's getting better. I'm healing."

She still couldn't risk being examined by a doctor. She had to be completely sure, and she also needed to convince Gabe of that, too. "You're right, it is happening much slower, but you even said last night that there's something different about me. It's different, but it's not gone."

Hopefully, he'd interpret the words as a sign of her returning invincibility, even though she was now wishing the opposite were true.

"Okay, we'll give it five more minutes, but if there isn't marked improvement, I'm taking you to the ER." The worry still wasn't completely gone from his tone, but he held up a finger. "I'll be right back."

He sprinted through the house, opening the front door before slamming it shut. He'd left the house. 

Reine was back in the kitchen by the time Gabe returned with a small white box in his hands. "Max had us carry one of these in our cars so we could cover up the novices' injuries before anyone noticed they were rejuvenating."

He held up the first aid kit, but Reine frowned.

Once again, Max's name had come up in a conversation between them. Although he was the reason they'd met in the first place, she felt uncomfortable – or perhaps guilty? – thinking about one while being with the other. It was an awful feeling, and she had to do something to stifle it.

Gabe guided her to the stool he occupied earlier. "Here, sit down. You look a bit pale from the blood loss," he said.

He was right, she did feel weak. Whether it was from the injury or the mix of emotions stirring in her, she didn't know. He set to work on temporarily bandaging her hand. Because she enjoyed having him fuss over her, it was finished much too quickly.

"That's so you don't get it infected or reopen the wound before it closes." He expertly tied off the gauze. "I'm going to check on the progress in a little bit, okay?"

"I can't wait." She pouted, but getting an idea, she jumped off the stool. "Now it's your turn to sit back down."

He complied, and Reine stepped toward him, placing her hips between his knees. By resting her hands on his thighs, the usual difference in their height was now reduced. She was finally able to look at him without straining her neck upwards.

"Last night, I dreamed about Venice. I think they were memories about things that happened there," she whispered.

He reached toward her waist with both hands and gently pulled her even closer, forcing her to move her hands up to his shoulders. "Really? What kind of things?"

Mere inches separated their bodies, and she noticed for the first time several light freckles on the bridge of his nose. Shaking off the momentary distraction, she returned to her hastily crafted plan.

"Well, I remember the masquerade ball. You practically tripped over your feet during the dance, no? But you did look very dashing in those yellow pantaloons," she said with a smile.

He threw his head back and laughed. "I kind of wished you'd forget that part. Go on."

"We also spoke about birthdays and watched the fireworks," she continued more seriously, not once lifting her gaze from his face. "I remember running through the crowds in the piazza and feeling happier than I have felt in a very, very long time."

He remained silent, watching her intently and waiting for the rest. She took a deep breath and proceeded with the recollection of events from that night.

"I was sitting next to you in the gondola and realized that . . .." She looked away, trying to focus on the half-full coffee pot on the other side of the room.