beautiful to me.
A racking pain shot through my body, and I whimpered. "It hurts."
"Yeah. I know." He touched the bottle to my lips and squirted it into my mouth. I sputtered a bit, the stuff tasted like flat beer with dirt in it, but once swallowed it was cool and soothing to my wretched esophagus, and I managed to drink some. I swallowed down as much as I could, then fell back on the ground. The racking pain subsided, but then ...
"Oh, god, I don't feel right," I said, and Tobias held me while I vomited everything I'd ever consumed in my life onto the ground. After a few minutes, I collapsed against him, the thrumming of his heart next to my ear giving me some comfort through my intense misery. He held me to him, one hand cupping my head as the other wrapped around my middle, pulling me toward his warmth.
"You all done?" he asked after a minute.
"I thought that was supposed to make me feel better."
"It's supposed to save your life," he said "Can you move your toes?"
I looked down at my legs, which still felt leaden and cold. Although breathing was no longer as painful as it had been before, just the idea of moving my toes made me start to cry. "I can't."
"Try."
"It's too hard," I whimpered.
"Liv, come on. Just try." His voice was ragged, and I could hear the desperation in it. "Please."
"Okay." I sniffled, concentrated, and wriggled my right big toe a little. "Can I die now?"
"No." He pulled a green hoodie sweatshirt out of his pack and slid it over my head, not bothering to string my arms through the sleeves, then settled me gently back on the ground. I looked up at him as he slung his bag back over his shoulders, the predawn sunlight bathing him in a soft glow that made him look almost unreal. Maybe I had imagined it all. Maybe he wasn't really there.
Maybe I was already dead.
Huh.
He looked around, then put his fingers between his teeth and let out an ear-shattering whistle.
"Ow," I said, and then I heard footsteps. I pulled my focus onto Tobias, who was standing still, but watching a point to my left. Slowly, I forced my head to turn, but all I saw were an old pair of construction work boots, and then a rough, Southern voice said, "She alive?"
"Yeah," I heard Tobias say, his voice tense. "She's not doing great, though."
There was a grunt, then the work boots stopped next to me. A moment later, Cain crouched down and looked at me, his eyes flickering with cold assessment over my face, then my body.
"Can she move?" he asked, not bothering to talk directly to me.
"A little," Tobias said, his voice quiet.
Cain reached out to touch my face, and I wanted to shrink back from him, but I couldn't. Maintaining consciousness was about all I had it in me to do at the moment.
"No," I said, my eyes filling with tears. How could Tobias do this? Bring Cain to me when I was at my weakest? What the hell was going on? My vision started to darken, but whether it was a result of my panic or my impending death, I didn't know.
"We have to go back to my place," Cain said, leaning forward to pick me up.
"No," I whimpered, and my body started to shake and convulse.
"I got her," Tobias said. A moment later, the hard earth was no longer under me, and I was being jostled about in Tobias's arms as he carried me out of the forest. I tried to speak, to ask Tobias what the hell he was doing with Cain, but the pain of the movement was too much, and I passed into blackness instead.
* * *
When I woke up, I was lying on a futon, staring at a nicotine yellow ceiling in a vaguely familiar studio apartment, although I couldn't place where I'd seen it before. I didn't know how long I'd been passed out, but the light outside wasn't full yet, so it couldn't have been too long. Or, it was so long that it was already dusk.
Or, I was dead, and hell was a studio apartment with nicotine ceilings. At this point, my mind was open to anything.
"Tobias?" I croaked, my throat rough and pained from all the abuse it had taken.
I heard noise, the clanking of pots, pans, utensils, and I lifted my head a bit to look. Cain was rummaging through the