As the morning light shimmered in through the empty glass windows lining the eastern walls of Noah’s room, the light blared down, strainging against Liora’s eyelids and abruptly rose her from the embroiling prison of sleep. Her eyes fluttered open alongside the noises of wind and glass glanging against glass coming from outside.

Her gaze cleared up, her body weak as she tried to abate that blend of light-headedness and nausea. The latter of which being something she was much too used to over the passing months since her husbands death. The light-headedness though, not so much.

“Ohhh…” she groaned, body aching. A lifted hand covered her eyes, blocking out the intrusive sun beam. Her other reached behind, acting as a ballast to help her sit up. “What happened?” Liora felt a churning in her stomach and tasted a sourness at the back of her throat. She had been exhausted, Harv had made sure of that, but this… it was different, colder, and she felt no pleasure in it.

Letting her hand fall from her face, she inspected her surroundings. The familiar wardrobe, the boxes and all. Confusion became evident in her face. “Why am I in Ellie’s room?” suddenly she winced, a pang of pain crossed her right arm. She darted her left to it, grasped it in the hope of quelling the pain but it did the opposite, only rising a tide of agony that made her grunt and cry out. Slowly, she glanced down, seeing a towel, ripped into thick straps, wrapped tightly around her limb. It had been painted red by blood, stealing colour from her face.

“W-what? N-no. I-I didn’t…” the nausea came in full force, rising up her stomach like a storm in the night. Covering her mouth, her eyes shook heavily, her cheeks puffed and soon she was lurching over the side of the bed, gagging as water and bile emptied onto the floor. The stench of wine ever present to her nose. She regretted it already, that ache, that bile, that horrible taste at the back of her throat and whatever her saviour must have gone through.

Her noises were loud enough that the clinking from outside halted, there was a clatter as the front door creened shut and thump of bootfalls rushing the stairs. Not a moment later did a boy, dishevelled and with little bags under his eyes blare in through the door. “Liora!” he urgently called seeing her hunched over, bile dripping from her lip and sweat coating her brow. He hastened to her side, set his hand small and thin over her back and moved her hair out of her face, coddling her as another stomach churning mouthful escaped her.

When it was done he gently lifted her head, paused at her watery and weak eyes and softly wiped down her lip with his sleeve. “I…” she tried to say but the words were latched at the back of her throat.

Noah hummed softly, a tune his mother used to sing to him, back then it had been harmonic but now the years had wittled down the tune breaking it as he tried to recall it. As the gags ended, Liora lifted her head and he cleaned her mouth once more. “It’s okay Liora, you’re okay,” he whispered.

Her eyes jerked up but quickly fell as she was unable to look him in the eyes. What she’d done…

Noah gave her back another soft pat then laid her back on the bed, uttering, “you should lie down. You need to rest.” She didn’t put up much as a fight, whether through understanding or simple listlessness, Liora was soon rested on the bed once more.

“D-did I… did I try to?” she stared at him with shivering red eyes and he bit his lip.

“Yeah,” he frowned, but quickly forced it into a solemn smile. Letting her fester in her thoughts didn’t sit well to him. Too cruel to let her run around doubting her every second. Better she let out those emotions here and now.

“No-why? I-no, I-I wouldn’t, I-”

“Liora, calm down now.” He whispered, taking her hand he gave it a gentle squeeze letting her know he was there for her. There was a wettness to her hand, when he glanced down to it he’d noticed some blood had wet the tips of her fingers that had saturated her bandage. He’d have to clean that soon. Till then, he had other things to deal with.

Liora began to choke on her breath, eyes unsteady, face reddening even through her natural paleness. He could already tell that hyperventilating was a primer to something else. Something he’d snip in the bud, “It’s alright Liora. You’re okay. You’re still here.” His smile only marred by his unkempt facial hair. But it was more than enough to quell her breathing like water on a budding flame. She turned her head, eyed him wettly and wet her jittering lips.

“You-you saved me?” she whined.

Noah hummed, “yeah, I did.”

“Why… Why help me? I’m… I tried to do that… you-you didn’t ha-”

“Yes I did.” He interrupted her, “and I’ll do it again and again till you stop trying.” He watched amusedly as Liora’s eyes widened in surprise, a chuckled escaped him, “if you want to know why. It’s cause I’m a selfish person, Liora. I don’t like seeing pain brought on to other people. Especially women who are in the prime of their life who are just a bit down on their luck,” Liora looked like she wanted to retort and once more say she was ‘just a hag,’ he wouldn’t let her. “So don’t be mistaken. I didn’t save you for you,” he lied. “I like books, Liora. I especially like books with a happy ending. I wouldn’t call what’s going on with you a happy ending.”

“After what I did?” her voice as feeble as her body, “I don’t… I don’t deserve something like that.”

“You do,” Noah said, “you’re still young Liora. Got plenty more chapters ahead of you.” He swept a stray lock of hair over her cheek and out of the way, “so don’t say you don’t deserve something like life. Else I’m going to get very, very annoyed.”

“But I tried to… I tried to…”

Noah’s brows furrowed, suicide… it was surely a traumatizing thing and most certainly a difficult subject no matter where one went. But for Liora, it seemed there was something deeper behind the concept. Like something inside her was at war with the mere idea.

“I know, Liora. Doesn’t change anything.”

Her mouth fell open as a cold breeze gusted in from outside. Noah shivered, turned to the window then back to her, casting her a softened smile before letting go of her hand and stood. Arriving by the window to close it tight. In but breaths, he was back by her side and crouched to her level. Before he could get properly comfortable, he gently took her hand, “I’m going to check the bandage then figure out something easy for you to eat. Okay?”

Liora did little to respond but to bow her head and let out small, restrained whimpers. Her glossy eyes struck at his heartstring, blended with her matured visage morphing to an almost kitten like demure, he was greatful he wasn’t already fainting from the glee.

He shook his head once, slid her arm gently out and inspected his makeshift towel bandage. It was soaked so thoroughly with blood the redness was almost halfway around her arm. His expression quirked disatisfactly. He’d have to replace it, thankfully with Liora awake and mostly lucid he could ask her for where the medical supplies were, if any. At worst he’d need to make a quick jaunt to the closest healer. Wherever that was.

“I’m going to have to change this.” Said Noah, “do you have any healing supplies. Bandages and creams?” before he touched that bandage, he needed to prepare the rest of the tools, get a cloth as well, and water. Couldn’t leave her red like this.

Liora took some seconds to respond before nodding, “down… downstairs. There’s a little box in the cupboard in the lounging room.” She said.

Noah gave her thing hand another squeeze, his already gaunt digits barely able to dent her skin, no matter how soft she was. “Then until I get back, why don’t you just close your eyes and take a little nap.”

She didn’t know what it was about him. That odd miscarriage between a thinly ghost of a boy and a smile so warm, so caring, so… she didn’t want to call it loving of life, but with how he looked at her… that sorrow, that worry that he’d bare witness to a life snuffed out. It tweaked her heart and made her nod weakly. Any words she could have said strained away by a sudden bout of drowsiness.

Noah witness this, offered her a calming squeeze with his frail, warm fingers that heated her chilly fingers and guided her hand back beneath the blankets and tucked her in snuggly. Rising straight not a moments later.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and was off.

She watched his back, it seemed bigger. For whatever reason. She blinked, clenching her eyelids shut for longer and when she reopened them, she realized she’d just been seeing double. WIth a strained puff and pained whine, she winced as a stinging pang stole her arm and forced a cruel sweat to steal her brow.

As Noah came to the door, he paused in the aperture of mahogany and turned to offer another reassuring smile. “I won’t be long.” Leaving, he gripped the door handle and pulled the door closed behind him.

Liora stared at the door, brown, unpainted, but with lathered with oil from whatever type of plant carpenters got their oil from. When no change came, she rested her head back, biting her lip to bite away the cries she wanted to unleash though she couldn’t quite stop the tears.

“I’m sorry Harv,” she whimpered, “I’m sorry. I-I-” she’d ruined it. Again, she’d ruined it.

Lurching, she coiled onto her side, the stench of bile was acidic and encapsulating. A horrible rot of wine and stomach juices that made her want to wretch and let it all out once more, but that puddle was already too much for Noah to clean up. She wasn’t going to make another mess.

Beneath those blankets so enveloping, as warm though they were, she curled herself tight. Body shivering with an unnatural coldness. “I’m sorry, Harv… I-I can’t join you anymore.” Her voice shivered, the wind battered the windows and she heard jostling from downstairs of Noah going through the cupboards in search of the healing supplies.

Gripping at her wavy red hair, she gripped thick bundles and reviled in the pain the force left. “What have I done? What have I done Harv?”