Fragile To His Darkness

Chapter 15: Waking Up

Elara woke up in a white room. Everything beeped. Her chest hurt badly. She could not breathe well.

Then she saw him. Damon, sitting beside her bed, holding her hand. His suit was still bloody. His eyes were red. He had not slept.

"Damon?" her voice was so weak.

He jumped up. "Elara! You are awake! Doctor! Doctor, she is awake!"

Dr. Evans ran in. "Elara, can you hear me? You had a lung rupture. We fixed it. You lost a lot of blood. But you are alive. You are so strong."

Elara looked at Damon. "You... you are still bloody..."

"I didn't have time to change. I thought... I thought you would die..."

She touched his bloody handprint on his face, still there.

"You cried?"

Damon didn't lie. "Yes. I cried. For the first time in 20 years. Because you said you love me and then you closed your eyes."

Elara smiled weakly. "I did say I love you... Do you still remember?"

"I will remember it until I die. Say it again."

"I love you, Damon Black."

Damon broke again and kissed her forehead, her hands, not caring about doctors.

"I love you too, my fragile girl. More than anything."

He took out the small black box from his pocket. The engagement ring.

"I was going to wait until you were 100% healed. But I almost lost you today. I cannot wait anymore."

He opened the box. The big diamond shone even in the hospital room.

"Elara, I know you are sick, I know you are in a hospital bed, coughing blood, but... will you marry me? Will you be my wife? Not tomorrow, not next year, but now, in my heart? Will you promise to be Mrs. Black?"

Elara started to cry. Oxygen mask on her face, blood still in her chest, but her heart beating fast.

"Yes! Yes, I will marry you! I said yes in my heart already! Now I say yes out loud! Yes!"

Damon slid the big engagement ring onto her finger, next to her small promise ring. Two rings now. One promise, one future.

"You are my fiancée now," he whispered. "Not just my fragile girl. My future wife."

The doctors and nurses smiled. Leo, standing at the door, wiped his eyes.

"Doctor, when can I take my fiancée home?" Damon asked.

"In 3 days, if no more bleeding. But she must rest for 1 month. No excitement. And this time, REALLY no kissing. Even forehead kisses can wait 3 days."

Damon groaned. "3 days?"

"Yes, mafia boss. 3 days. Your fiancée needs to live to be your wife."

Elara laughed weakly. "It's okay, Damon. 3 days is nothing. We have 50 years."

Damon held her hand with two rings shining, bloody suit, tired eyes, but the happiest man in the hospital.

"I love you, Mrs. Black-to-be."

"I love you, my mafia husband-to-be."

And for the first time, she didn't feel fragile. She felt strong, because she was loved enough to be asked to be a wife, even in a hospital bed covered in blood.