argued. “I’ll eat when I get hungry.”
“No,” he tried to argue, but his throat was dry.
He tried to lick his lips, but it took too much effort and he slipped down into the darkness again. It seemed like an eternity passed before he could find the strength to climb back up the slippery walls. He refused to give up this time. Someone was touching him. He could feel soft, smooth hands running up and down his leg. It took a moment for him to realize that he could actually feel the touch.
“My teacher showed me this technique,” the voice was saying. “He said it helped with circulation and helped slow the deterioration of the muscles.”
“Taylor, you’ve been here since early this morning,” a soft voice chided. “You need to take care of yourself.”
“I’m almost done,” Taylor replied.
“Take…,” Saber forced out.
The hands on him froze and were removed. A small moan escaped him when they disappeared. He moved his lips, trying to form the words.
“What?” A beautiful voice whispered next to his ear.
A sigh escaped him when he felt the warm hands touch his face. He instinctively moved his head. He wanted to feel them against his skin. He swallowed, trying to force some moisture into his throat.
“Take care… of… your… self,” he finally forced out before the edges of darkness swirled around him again. He didn’t want to sink back into the lonely pit. He wanted to break free and search for the face that belonged to the hands. “I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” The voice repeated.
“Leave me,” he mumbled before falling backwards.
“I won’t,” she promised. “I won’t ever leave you.”
*.*.*
Eighteen months later:
“Boiling oil,” Taylor muttered and held the pen to her lips and thought for a moment. “Naw, that would be a total waste of good oil.”
Saber turned to glare at her. He gripped the arms of his airchair in an effort to keep from reaching out and wrapping them around Taylor’s neck. She would probably continue to ignore him as he did it. She ignored everything else he did and said.
“You know, I can hear you thinking,” he snapped.
Taylor looked up over her writing pad at him. “Spiders,” she said, tilting her head. “How do you feel about spiders?”
“They are right up there with your gnomes,” he retorted, waving his hand to the unfinished kitchen counter.
Taylor glanced over her shoulders at the dozens of strange little figurines that adorned the kitchen. She turned back and wrote something down. He snarled when she peered over her notepad at him.
“Goblins,” she said with a grin, snapping her fingers. “I need goblins.”
“How long are you going to continue to torture both of us with your insistence on coming over here every day?” Saber demanded, pressing the controls on his airchair until it stopped in front of her.
Taylor grinned at him. “Until you grow a pair of balls and admit that you like me coming over,” she replied with a smile.
“You aren’t going to go away, are you?” He finally muttered.
“Nope,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Why?” Saber asked, staring at her in confusion. “Look at me, Taylor. I am half the warrior I was. I may never walk again.”
“Wrong!” Taylor snapped. “Hunter might never have walked again. He was the one with the broken back. You! You had a busted leg. Even if you had both legs gone, you could still walk. So, why don’t you get over your self-pity party, Saber? It’s beginning to get a bit old. I’m ready for a new song.”
Saber scowled at Taylor, but all she did was scowl back at him. He couldn’t help it. His lip twitched. At first, he thought it was because he was mad, but the more they stared at each other, the more it twitched. He shook his head when the sound of a low snort escaped him. He meant it to come out as a growl, but it hadn’t.
“You aren’t going to make me laugh,” he whispered with determination.
“I’ll turn your