Saved By A Knight

Chapter Four: Who Am I

*Nirvana’s POV*

County Cork, Ireland. March 2023

"You've been quiet and all by yourself since you came out of coma." Finney says, as a way of greeting, as he enters my…the room. I can't quite call it my room yet.

He moves towards one of the curvy cream-colored sofas in the room and sit down. I continue to look at him through the vanity mirror. I have been sitting in front of the mirror since the early evening, looking at my face, hoping that I might see something in the blue of my eyes, or maybe the oval shape of my face would remind me of someone. As a last resort, I had been taking the comb through my brunette hair before Finney entered. Maybe the doing of it will remind me of another time and another place.

Finney continues to look at me with his gray eyes, as gray the tie he's wearing. When I had first woken up from my long sleep two weeks ago, I was a bit disoriented. Those same gray eyes had stared down at me, looking at me patiently and saying softly, "you're okay now." Repeatedly.

I had wanted to keep on staring into those eyes but the continuous beeping sound around me had distracted me. I remember looking at all the machines and wires connected to my body and looking at Finney with confusion in my eyes. He had said nothing else aside from that I am okay now, his hand holding onto mine.

In the days following, he comes to the room every day bringing me fresh flowers alongside my food. Then he will proceed to pull up a chair close to the bed and read to me.

I remember I thought I had heard his voice before. When I told him so, he said he had been reading to me while I was in a coma.

As the days went by, I had come to depend on our daily routine; the flowers, the food, the reading, and the little conversation I could manage. I much prefer listening to him talk, the gentle staccato of his voice sounds like a forgotten music to my ears.

And his eyes? The concentration behind it when he's reading or when he looks at me. It makes me feel like I am the only person he sees, which started making me feel self-conscious. I found that I wanted to always look nice for him, I wanted him to have a reason to always look at me, which for some reason I couldn't name started annoying me. So, I told him to stop coming to the room regularly, that I wanted a little bit of time to myself to gather my thoughts.

He had accepted in good grace; even told me I could venture out to the back garden for some fresh air if I so wished. I didn't so wish.

I stayed in this room and only saw him a few times whenever Dr. Hughes come around to check up on me. His housekeeper, Mrs. Lilybeth, has been seeing to my feeding. When I asked her in the morning where he was when I didn't hear his voice around the house, she replied, "Mr. Knight has gone to the city for business."

I believe he's just coming back from said business as he's yet to undress and get out of his work clothes. He removed his black suit and put it beside him, revealing a startling white shirt. He went ahead to loosen his tie a little bit and unbuttoned the first two buttons, then crossed his legs and continue to look at me. He was waiting for me to reply to what he had said, I presume.

I sighed and stand up from the seat and move towards the love-sofa opposite him. Saying, "what is there to say when you don't even know who you are, huh?"

"You know who you are, you just don't remember yet, and Dr. Hughes said it will come back to you gradually." He said patiently.

"He also said there's a possibility of me never regaining my memory!" I retorted angrily.

"I can't even remember my name! My name, Finney! I don't know who I am, I don't know what I was doing by the river where you saw me three months ago. I don't know what happened to me!"

He stand up and came to sit beside me. Gently, he laid his left hand on my right hand on the sofa there.

"Let's do something for a change, shall we? I will ask you to tell me your name, and you will tell me the first thing that pops into your head."

"What is that going to solve? It won't be my name."

"Indulge me, will you? Don't take it too seriously. Let's see, okay? Okay?" He smiled encouragingly.

"Okay…" I smiled back at him.

He patted my hand and turned his body completely towards me.

"Hello there, I noticed you must be new in this area of the country." He said in his rich voice with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"And how would you know I'm new in the area, you are the local police or something?"

"Definitely not!" He said, looking affronted.

I laughed, warming up to the act.

"Why definitely not, you definitely look like a—"

"Don't say it," he cut me off, smiling.

"So, what is it you do, Mr. Definitely not?"

"I am merely your regular bloke, and I'm Finney Knight, thank you very much."

"Knight! See!" I clapped my hands gleefully and then pointed a finger at him. "I knew you looked like a cop. You definitely could pass as a local police officer, Mr. Knight, and you are no 'bloke'. Your Irish accent is terrible!"

"Okay Ma'am. And can you do me the honor of telling me who you are, what is it this mysterious beauty of a stranger is doing in this part of the country?" He said, smiling into my eyes.

"Me?" I widened my eyes in feigned surprise. "Well, I merely just exist and live. I find the countryside soothing."

"And what is your name Ma'am?" He asked, folding his arms to himself.

"Rhythm," I said without thinking. And looking into his eyes, I repeated softly, "my name is Rhythm."

"Rhythm." He said, the name rolling gently off his tongue. "I love the sound of it, it suits you."

"It reminds me of your voice," I said, completely coming out of character.

At that, his gray eyes seemed to get a shade darker. His eyes rove over my face as if looking for something. Since he's looking at me unabashedly, I allow myself the same courtesy.

My eyes go straight to his folded arms. I wonder why that is. Out of all the things to look at, my eyes chose his arms. Following my line of sight, he looked at his arms and unfolded them gently. Laying his left hand on my right, he uses his forefinger to draw a continuous kind of circle at the back of my palm.

We both look at what he's doing; his finger playing with my palm. The feeling of his finger on that small part of me shouldn't affect me so, but I find my breathing is suddenly laborious.

"And what about my voice is it that you like, Rhythm?" He murmured; his voice had somehow thickened in the last couple of minutes.

I look up from his finger on my hand and at his face. He c****d his head to one side and arched one of his eyebrows at me. Challenging me to continue the game.

I smiled. "I didn't say I like your voice, Mr. Knight."

He also smiled.

"I can make you like it."

"Oh? How do you plan on doing that, Mr.—"

"It's Finney," he interrupted.

"I like Knight better, Mr. Knight."

"Then drop the Mister."

"Why?" I taunt him.

Before he could reply, the door opened and Mrs. Lilybeth entered.