Page 129 of Eyes Like Angel

“I thought…” my throat bobbed, dryness pricked as I swallowed. “I thought you’re—oh God, I can’t even say it perfectly. I’m sorry.”

Tears swept aside by her fingers, faintly tracing it at first, but soon wet drops increased, she wiped with her thumb, and ceasing but it only strengthened the sadness in me.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” she uttered with a tender gaze. “I don’t see why you’re crying over something that wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah…I did…” my throat hurt from sobbing, eyes reddened, blurred again each time I opened my mouth.

“Is everything okay? You look sick,” she whispered, kind eyes troubled at my despairing form, spine crouching and bloodshot eyes, botchy and weakened displayed before her.

“Silly angel,” I said jokingly. “I should be the one who ask you that.”

Groggy, she hoisted herself up without shifting an inch from her bruised parts on her limbs. “Where am I?”

“At the hospital,” I said, in composure. “Don’t worry, you’re safe.”

“What happened?” she questioned another.

“Someone saved you from the ambush,” I chose my words daintily, tucking my hands on my lap. “Then I stepped in and took care of the rest by bringing you here. I had to drive you here.”

Somehow I could afford to tell the half-lie. But what I can’t do is to tell her that I’m the mysterious killer in Fort Heaven that set sight on gaining money by selling organs with an accomplice to exchange money with at the black market and solely buying bodies as an alternate hobby in the forest. Luckily I had the last morphine to soothe her down and be drowsy. Panicking from my angel was the last thing I want to expect.

Maybe someday I’ll tell her, but not today.

Not tonight.

Not at this hour.

Stroking her head, I realized she wasn’t properly cared for. Her brownish-black hair on how the grease easily slid over was concerning. Her loose waves felt thinner, too.

I could only remember her sleeping in the attic—no dining room, no bathroom and no shower to be in. Who caused all of this to wire her brain like that? I pondered to the extent I can’t decipher to a clear conclusion; somehow it determined to unveil the answers to fill in the blanks, blanketing over from jumping to conclusions.

Right now, it doesn’t matter, my objective and my highest priority goes to her. Whether Eva is unclean or not, she’s still my Eva, tremendously perfect in every way, without a shadow of doubt.

“I’m sorry I made you brought me here,” she said, lips quavering.

“No, no, sweet angel,” I murmured kindly, stroking her head more. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I wish…I could’ve been there and took care of it all, prevent it all. I could’ve done better.”

Her brow flicked. “What do you mean by that?”

Instantly, I refused to give an honest reply. “I’m here now. I’m going to cover the hospital bills.”

She watched me. “Are you sure? I have to pay you back some—”

“No, this is my final word. I won’t hear it,” I said to her.

Then she finally gave in. “If you say so.”

The heart machine beeped alongside of a prolonged quietude. And breeze softened from an air duct.

Her back slouched. “Anything else happened?”

Gulping to a steadier pace that was rushing in me alongside the adrenaline, my back straightened, my hands grip on hers still. “Nothing happened. I was worrying that…you might die.”

Her smile protruded a little. “But here I am, all thanks to God’s…work.”

Awkwardly I said the unthinkable. “Do you think I’m God?”

She scoffed. “Perhaps you’re the savior I should be thanking for…despite our circumstances, our dissimilar views. You saved me, Adrian. Yousavedme.”