Prescription for Miss Walker

Alison left shortly after my outburst, even though I tried denying its existence. She just gave me that look you'd use to scold a child. She was going to be a good mom.

So, I was alone.

And I didn't want to be. I was afraid of being left on my own. I'd just made the decision not to go through with treatment, who could possibly know if I suddenly decided to off myself instead of waiting?

I clung onto my legs, knowing dear life didn't listen to prayers. It had never worked for me before, so I couldn't put my faith in them now.

All I could do, was listen out for the sounds of silence.

I did this. I caused all of it. The hate people had for me. The need I had to throw myself at others who originally had no thought of me. To get into their weak minds, take them to my bed and make them question their commitments. I did that to people all the time... and this was my comeuppance.

How could I have spoken about forgiving my mother earlier, when I myself, couldn't plea for it?
I was repulsive.

There was a loud rap at the door. I looked up around me, searching for a reason Alison would come back, but I didn't see any miniature socks on the floor, or anything else, really.

It couldn't be Alison then. I bet it was Dave.

"Go away... please." I added, as if in afterthought. I'd been a crummy person lately, it was only polite.

I began to groan when the door opened itself, but stopped when I noticed Ash crossing the threshold. He didn't look much different from how he had earlier today, except for the steaming beverage he held in his hand.

"Hey." It was soft-spoken and his smile wasn't bright. He knew what he'd come here for.

"Hey. Do you want to sit down?"

He didn't argue, he dropped all of his stuff by the floor and crossed over, handing me the cup. I opened the cap, overpowered by the aroma of salty goodness that was broth soup.

Grateful, I held it close but didn't drink it.

"Put the cup down please, Shira."

I met his eyes for a moment, before I did as requested. When I returned, he was extremely close. My breath caught and I watched as it breezed past fallen strands of his hair.

His hand cupped my chin, as he pressed his lips a few millimeters above it. I only got to slightly reciprocate the feeling, since he pulled away just as quickly as he'd done it.

"I didn't want to startle you with it too much. I figured zero reaction to it was better than a scalded chest." He raised an eyebrow, unconscious of his hand which had descended down to the mentioned parts.

I wanted to laugh but found I couldn't. And that sucked.

"Why are you here?" I didn't know why I asked, since the answer was obvious.

He came to talk to me, to see sense that receiving the chemo and radiotherapy was my best chance at survival. As my doctor, he wouldn't stand to see me give up and throw away all his hard work.

He may have been kind enough to buy me soup, but his selfless actions stopped there. Neither of us were like that. This was about coming on top.

He groaned lightly, taking my hand as he flopped down on the sofa. His skin was warm and taut, not as I imagined, or remembered. I'd never held his hand long enough to memorize such details. I lay my head on his chest, feeling his even breathing through the cold shirt. I bet I didn't breathe like that.

"Normally, I'd go through a whole speech, telling you that there's more to life than this. If you fight, you can have whatever you want, the whole world has been handed to you on a silver platter. But you're not like that," Nimble fingers played with my hair, and I resisted the urge to smack them away. Men hadn't done that to me for years.

"If you feel there's nothing more you can give, then so be it, but don't raise your hands and surrender just because it's handed you an inconvenience. Many people are in the same situation and they're ploughing through... I believe you can too. It's just a question of whether or not you think the same."

I wasn't a strong person. My life had been hell and there had been no reward so far, just more suffering. I was going through the motions, nothing pleased me but it was definitely better than what I'd got. I wouldn't mind going back there now, anything to get away from all this pain.

I turned my head to catch him smile. He really was a gorgeous man, kind sometimes too, if he wanted to be.

And what was I?

I'd put up with people saying they know me for years. Not telling me secrets because they could predict how I'd act. Buying me clothes and jewelry because they knew it would shut me up.

But how could they know me, if I barely even knew myself?

So, in all my confusion, I discarded every word he said and rose my mouth to capture his. It did, without much effort, as his responded quickly. His hands found my sides and moved me so I was straddling him. I threw my arms around his neck and begged myself never to let go.

Soon, our clothes were strewn all over the floor. I had him, his body heat, his breath, his touch, it was all over me. Hands that couldn't stay put in one place, gathering in my hair as he brought my head to the side so he could kiss up and down my neck and collarbone. My perfume was going to be all over him tonight.

I decided we take it to the bed, so I grabbed his hand and he followed behind, like an eight-week old puppy on its first walk on the street.

We collapsed on the mattress together, his erect penis between my legs as it throbbed to take me. To make me gasp and scream with ecstasy. As it begged me to bounce on it and take all of its lively seed...

It was just then though, that the world became blurry, like an ocean. I was hot all over, and sore. I wondered why, just as I began to barely be able to breathe.

Ash's thumbs brushed my cheeks, as he fell to my side. Wetness swiped at my skin and I then realized what was happening.

He flung the covers over us, as he embraced me to his wonderful God-like chest, his thumb never ceasing movement. As smooth as a brushstroke, as gentle as a feather. Our legs tangled together at the foot of the bed as his chin touched my head full of hair.

And kissed it.

Never stopping what he was doing. His thumb was soft. Never stopping what he was feeling. As I felt the non-rhythmic beat of his heart. Never stopping what he was seeing. As he cradled a dying woman in his arms.