The Beauty and the Inked

Twenty-five: Warm Embrace

“Ms. Pasco?"

"Yes?" I answered automatically. My back hurts from overnight slouching. I haven't gotten any sleep- none at all. My eyelids were getting heavier.

"We suggest for you to take some rest and be back later this day," the same nurse when Logan wasn't able to attend to my dad was standing by the end of the bed.

"I'm fine. Thank you," I said ignoring her request for me to go. Why can't they understand that I want to stay here?

"But, ma'am-"

"Please."

Without another word she left the room after injecting meds to my Dad's dextrose. It's already three in the morning. Physical exhaustion isn't what I am worried about, it's my mental state. I feel like I'm starting to lose it.

All night long, the same thought kept running in my mind. When will this stop? Will this ever stop? Every fiber of my being seems to be so tired and exhausted. My mind never stops overthinking things after I've heard what Dr. Conrad said.

Blaming me over and over again wouldn't change anything at all. But I can't stop from doing it. This is the worst feeling of all. I can take all the madness the world has to give, but being so helpless about it is what makes it unbearable.

Whenever I close my eyes, I wish I could shield myself from this self-loathing sensation that drowns me. But what happens is the exact opposite. Whenever darkness clouds me, I feel more vulnerable and helpless.

"Yssa?" Logan was standing by the door. His teal nurses' scrub suits him. His eyes were on me, I almost felt like he was trying to read me. But there's nothing to see in me because I am numb, inside and out.

"Hey, Logan," I acknowledge him.

"I hate to say this, because I know you already heard it many times. But, you have to take some rest. Its pass eight o'clock," his voice was full of concern. Really? Time went by so fast that I didn't notice. He took slow steps towards me, and I did no action to move.

"I just want to be here. Why do people want me to stay away from my Dad? Can't they understand that I've been away from him for a very long time and now I just want to make up the lost time?!" an uncontrollable sob wrack through my body. I covered my face with my two hands, shielding myself from Logan's concern gaze. I hated it that Logan has to see me breaking down. I don't like being seen so vulnerable and weak.

"Yssa," he tugged at my arm and I was on my feet, his embraced was tight and firm, I can say, almost stiff. The thought of being locked inside someone else's arms burst out in my mind but I gave no action to move away from Logan. I want it to be somebody else but I know that does not going to happen especially now that he's done playing with me. He's done acting as if he cares... The feeling of Logan's arms around me felt wrong, it was different from what I want. But there's nothing to complain.

"I just..." I continued to sob as I buried my face on the crook of his neck, "I just... Ugh!" I can't put my thoughts into words.

"It's okay... Shhh," he was petting my hair as my arms locked around him. God, I did not know I need someone to cling on until he embraced me.

I was so busy worrying things without even knowing that I'm already torturing myself.

"Do you want me to call Zack?"

What?

"Don't."

"He's-"

"Please. Stop talking, please," why does he have to mention Zack? I'm trying... really trying of not thinking about that stupid demigod. But who am I kidding? I just thought of him embracing me rather than Logan.

"Why?" he asked me. The confusion in his voice was so palpable that I want to explain everything to him. Lay out everything- even the tiniest details of what I feel. It's so great to have a friend like Logan.

"You should take some rest, you're abusing your body," he said. His hands were now on my back, running up and down.

"I don't want to go home," just the thought of being in that house again makes me feel nauseous. My memories of my Dad still lingered on the walls and I can still hear our laughter's echoing inside every rooms. It sounds crazy, but that's how I really feel.

"But you have to," he said.

"I. Don't. Want. To."

He pulled away to lock his gaze with mine. His blue eyes flicked between my brown orbs, "Yssa, you have to be strong. He may not wake up today or tomorrow but who knows when, right? Don't lose hope. There's no guarantee that Dr. Conrad was one hundred percent accurate with his findings," he smiled at me, and the throbbing pain in my chest lessens.

"You don't know how much I need you," I said as I rest my cheek on his chest. Who knew that I would be able to find a friend like Logan? It seems like everything he says is a cure to my problems. It only takes him to say the right words to make me feel better...

With Zack, just his presence was enough. No. I shouldn't bother myself with thinking about anymore.

"You do?"

"Yeah," I simply answered.

. . . .

"How was your weekend?" Cher asked me as she assembles the hardbound books.

"Emotional," I answered. I was sorting the softbound ones, whilst Jane was working on the front desk, attending to the people's need.

"But you look less exhausted today," her backhanded compliment sent a smile on my face.

"Thanks?"

"And a little happier," she added, "I guess whatever quarrel you and your boyfriend was now over," she said. Her back was facing me so she didn't saw how my expression changed from all-smile to confuse.

Boyfriend?

"I don't have boyfriend," I said.

"Then why were you so emotionless last week and the week before?"

"There was a lot of going on."

"Like what?" she urged. I like that she was into knowing me, but what I don't like was that this conversation will lead into opening up Zack's disappearance.

"My Dad," I answered; trying to manipulate our conversation away from touching the matter with the demigod.

"What's with him?"

I told her that he was in coma. All the things that could answer her query without getting in touch with my past. It's not easy to open up things like that.

"At least now, you're back to normal," she said.

"Yeah," thanks to Logan and his encouragements. Last night he drove me home and my Mom invited him for dinner. It was actually fun to have him there, but there was a part of me the keeps on faltering, doubting whatever I was doing. A part of me that wishes it was somebody else who was spending the dinner with me.

The day dragged and all I ever thought was to get to the hospital. To see my Dad and tell him how I missed him today. I can't wait to see him open his eyes and talk to me; I can't wait to feel his gentle touch...

"Yssa."

My breath hitched as well as my feet stopped moving... No.

I don't want to turn around to see the source of the voice because I was sure who it came from. His deep voice resonates through the air and sent shivers down my spine. I felt like my feet were pinned on the ground. There was a lump that is starting to build in my throat.

His hand made its way to my waist and locked me in his arms... just what I was longing for.

"I missed you, baby," he said as he inhaled my scent, his mouth was near my ear, "How are you?" my insides melt.

Don't cave in, Yssa.

"Baby?" he turned me around, and I almost choke when his hazel eyes met mine. The electricity buzzed through every vein in my body, the intensity of his gaze left me speechless. Just what I was longing for...

It's this man that I thought would be at my side when I needed him. This same man that I thought would help get through with all my shits; this man, whose presence was enough for me to calm.

He was gone for three weeks... three f*****g weeks! Two weeks of hell without even trying to answer my texts nor even tried to ring me up! I want him to be gone, I want to push him away... but I couldn't lie to myself as my fingers dragged up to his face and touched the stubble on his jaw, whilst the other made its way to the back of his neck.

I can't lie to myself. This is so wrong, but the feeling of his arms around me is beyond wonderful. This is what I needed. He is what I needed the most.

"I miss you, baby," his words sounds beautiful as my heart pound loud inside my chest. I can't find my own voice, though I want to tell him how much I missed him too.

His slow movements were agonizingly slow as he rests his forehead against mine. His breath fanning on my face, and I was really trying my best not to kiss him. The few inches of empty space between us was tempting...

I closed my eyes, prayed to god. If this is a dream, please, wake me up.

Then I felt a soft peck on my lips... this is not a dream.

His arms that were locked around me drew me closer to him. I don't know what to do, but my body acted before my mind processed everything. I reached up to give in- to kiss him.

I don't care if we were standing outside the double doors of the library, all I want to feel is him. All I want is to taste his lips. Zack kissed me slowly, passionately. The affection that was palpable in his every movement attracts me to do the same. My palm pressed at the nape of his neck, as his was on my hips, holding me firm. His lips mold against mine and I don't care if people can see us.

"I miss you, too," my voice sounds so weak. After a beat his lips pressed more forcefully against mine. The intensity of his touch brings butterflies in my stomach- no, there is a freaking zoo inside me. My inside were curling and expanding in the same time. I'm losing my senses and I'm defenseless. My feelings were everywhere as his tongue slide on my lower lip. I pulled away; god knows what will happen next if he will continue doing that.

The drive to the hospital was silent, but the felicity that circulates in me was still there. As we made to my dad's private room, Zack's hand held mine. There's nothing in the world more comforting than his touch. The white walls of the hospital were less hurting in my eyes; this is what Zack can do to me.

"Yssa," Logan said while he was checking on my Dad. When his eyes landed on the man beside me, there was a vivid change in his expression. I can almost say that it was a scornful one, but I decided to ignore it.

"Hey, Logan," I said as cheerful as I can.

"See you around," he said without any attempt to acknowledge Zack he left the room with a crease between his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't say that he's rude," Zack said as he steps closer to me. What?

"The doctor said my Dad isn't doing so well," I told Zack as I sink unto the chair. I brush the strands of my Dad's hair with my hands; it feels soft though it was long ago when the last time he had a proper bath.

"I'm sure he will wake up," though his words were just meant to encourage me, a part of me already believe it, "I'm sorry that you have to go through this."

I bit my lower lip to control the waves of emotion that is trying to escape me. I grip Zack's hand like it was his' that I need to cling to until I get through this.