‹ Prequel: Where's the Heart?
Love is a Two Way Street
Pain
It wasn't too long before my absence was noticed. The door was nearly torn off its hinges when Edwin barged in, eyes wide with fear as he saw me collapsed on the floor. It took so much effort to remain conscious.
"Jade!" he cried, by my side in an instant. He tried to help me up, but I winced, moaning about him poking my sides when I was in enough pain. He ignored my pleas to stay in that position as he forced me to sit up.
"Stop it," I groaned, barely able to find my voice after puking and coughing up blood so much. The tears had dried from before, but I had never wiped them from my face.
"I told you to tell me what was wrong!" he scolded, frantic. I couldn't care at this point.
"Ed, put me back," I begged. The floor was so much more comfortable.
"No! You need help," he told me softly, rubbing my back soothingly. That didn't sit well with my stomach and I tore myself from him to throw up again. He winced, but held me even tighter. I coughed lightly and he eased up.
"It's just some virus," I assured him. "I'm fine now." I helped myself up and walked out of the room to prove my point, but I collapsed yet again as soon as I made it to the hallway.
Edwin was there again, pulling me up and into his arms. I accidentally coughed blood onto his nice white shirt (and I loved that shirt, ugh!), but he didn't seem to notice as he carried me up to our room and put me down on the bed.
"Jade, you have to tell me when this stuff happens. I don't want to lose you," he whispered, clutching my hand tightly as if he was afraid I might slip away. I was damn near close to, to tell the truth, but he didn't need to know that.
"It's no big deal."
"Jade, you spit blood on me. That's not normal," he chided. "What's wrong? Do you feel sick? You threw up. What's wrong?"
"My stomach hurts, that's all."
Edwin was silent for a moment before he stood up. I tried to reach for him with a shaky hand, but he sighed.
"I'm taking you to my father."
"No!" I cried, wincing as the wind caught in my throat.
"He's a doctor. And a vampire. Maybe he'll know what's wrong."
"If you do, I will hate you forever," I scowled, ignoring the festering pain.
"I'd rather you live to hate me than have you die just to know you love me."
He picked me up again and I would have protested, but the sleep that had been tugging on me for quite some time finally overtook me. I gave in without a fight.
"Jade!" he cried, by my side in an instant. He tried to help me up, but I winced, moaning about him poking my sides when I was in enough pain. He ignored my pleas to stay in that position as he forced me to sit up.
"Stop it," I groaned, barely able to find my voice after puking and coughing up blood so much. The tears had dried from before, but I had never wiped them from my face.
"I told you to tell me what was wrong!" he scolded, frantic. I couldn't care at this point.
"Ed, put me back," I begged. The floor was so much more comfortable.
"No! You need help," he told me softly, rubbing my back soothingly. That didn't sit well with my stomach and I tore myself from him to throw up again. He winced, but held me even tighter. I coughed lightly and he eased up.
"It's just some virus," I assured him. "I'm fine now." I helped myself up and walked out of the room to prove my point, but I collapsed yet again as soon as I made it to the hallway.
Edwin was there again, pulling me up and into his arms. I accidentally coughed blood onto his nice white shirt (and I loved that shirt, ugh!), but he didn't seem to notice as he carried me up to our room and put me down on the bed.
"Jade, you have to tell me when this stuff happens. I don't want to lose you," he whispered, clutching my hand tightly as if he was afraid I might slip away. I was damn near close to, to tell the truth, but he didn't need to know that.
"It's no big deal."
"Jade, you spit blood on me. That's not normal," he chided. "What's wrong? Do you feel sick? You threw up. What's wrong?"
"My stomach hurts, that's all."
Edwin was silent for a moment before he stood up. I tried to reach for him with a shaky hand, but he sighed.
"I'm taking you to my father."
"No!" I cried, wincing as the wind caught in my throat.
"He's a doctor. And a vampire. Maybe he'll know what's wrong."
"If you do, I will hate you forever," I scowled, ignoring the festering pain.
"I'd rather you live to hate me than have you die just to know you love me."
He picked me up again and I would have protested, but the sleep that had been tugging on me for quite some time finally overtook me. I gave in without a fight.