Imagine Being Loved By Me

Chapter 3

He wiped down the room he would be staying in with the little light from the sun that was left. He had his own sheets in the wash while he cleaned with the supplies he bought and the few he found in the mansion.

The day didn’t turn out at all as he expected.

He ended up spending the majority of the day tending to the woman he found near deceased in bed when he initially thought he’d be able to immediately set his plan of action to work.

After he was able to put her sheets back on the bed and settle her within it comfortably, he went to work setting up an IV drip and trying to insert it into a vein that wasn’t collapsing constantly. If she didn’t have bruises before, after he was done torturing her and himself with that process, he was sure he’d find plenty of marks on her inner elbow by tomorrow.

He also reasoned he'd need candles if he wasn’t going to get his hands on any new light bulbs by the next day.

More light was a necessity since there was only that small window in the library and he had to focus on being able to go through each sheet of paper within that room and the office. Then there was the schedule for the bathroom he’d need to set up for his patient. Now that he got her set up with an IV, she would need to relieve herself every few hours, which was the problem.

She was way too weak to walk on her own.

Maybe he'd do better if he took some of the paper work with him into the master bedroom. He would be able to work and keep an eye on the woman if she needed anything. Even though he’d prefer to stay relegated to the library since he’d have everything at his fingertips, the thought of working near a balcony that provided plenty of sunlight seemed more and more tempting as he continued to think about it.

He ran his hands over the shaved sides of his hair, whatever he decided could be dealt with tomorrow.

As of now, he needed his own shower.

The sheets for the bed he assumed would be done by then, and he’d be able to refit them to the mattress and climb right in to rest.

His assignment, he now knew, was going to be more complicated than he initially imagined, but if anyone could get it done, and do it right, it was him.

~

He sent one of the men who was working security out to get light bulbs after he examined each light in the house.

That process took more hours than he planned before he realized that he should first only account for the rooms of necessity. There were also some wax candles he found in the pantry, stored away in a box. He took all of them up to the library to help illuminate the place so he could immediately begin gathering the paper that was strewn about, starting with the scraps that were left around and within the fireplace. If any of them held any importance, it would be the ones that were set ablaze or close to being so.

Neatly, he set the scraps into the bin he brought and took them out of the room and down the hall into the Master's suite, then he went back to retrieve some of the candles. He decided he would place two within the bathroom, so it would have light when it was being used.

After drawing back the curtain slightly, he looked back to see the woman lying still in bed.

The sun had just begun to rise, so it was rather dark outside, but he could see that her eyes were open. He immediately went to her and drew back the covers, thankful to see that she didn’t wet herself throughout the night. It meant she was extremely dehydrated, but it also meant that she probably had to relieve herself at that moment. She was tense as he examined her, her eyes squeezed shut as soon as he got close. He had to ignore her discomfort if he was going to help her. So he lifted her under her knees and back and took her and the IV bag into the bathroom to sit her on the toilet.

Almost immediately, she began to release, to his utter shock.

She must have been holding it in for who knows how long. He tore his eyes from her strained face as she began breathing hard from the release of pressure. Though she was broken and starved, she still had some dignity, it seemed.

“Do you want to try wiping yourself?” He questioned, once again in a softer tone.

She slowly turned to look at him but stopped before her eyes could make eye contact. He reached for the leftover tissue roll and detached some before placing it in her skeletal hand. Her fingers were barely able to close around it, let alone lift enough to give herself a helping hand. She tried anyway, tiring herself out with every attempt.

Eventually, he took the tissue from her hand. She let out a sound of frustrated defeat, then a whimper that surely sounded as if she would cry from humiliation.

He ignored it as he bent her forward slightly, and dried her with two quick passes. He understood the humiliation, but he didn’t have any more time to waste on it. As soon as she got her strength back, then she would be free to protect herself from shame as much as possible.

He flushed and then lifted her off the toilet, moving to put her back onto the bed.

The sun was brighter in the sky, so he could see her more clearly.

Her wispy eyelashes were damp and clumped together with her unshed tears.

He laid her back on the bed to examine her arm he mistakenly abused yesterday trying to get the IV in. It was an ugly purple and red against her crepuscular skin, but she gave no reaction to him examining it. She kept her muddy eyes diverted and her weak body sunken. It wasn’t until he went to overlook the rest of her that he realized she probably was further ashamed at her nakedness.

He could’ve slapped his own forehead with stupidity.

Naked bodies weren’t a nonplus to him, but that couldn't be said of everyone. So, of course, she had to be uncomfortable with being strewn out completely naked while he examined her with his cold disinterest and barely hidden disgust at her mal-nourished body.

He looked around towards the wardrobe, the one place in the room he didn’t bother to go through. There wasn’t much in there that was left, which meant people came into this very room after the mansion was abandoned. They potentially saw this woman struggling to survive but left her chained to the wall. He had no business judging those people, but surely the least they could’ve done was cut her chains? Or put her out of her misery? Either way, she wouldn’t have been his problem then.

Then, of course, he could’ve just held a pillow over her face himself and been done with it, but he didn’t.

He couldn't.

He chose the harder but right course of action, which meant sacrificing his time to nurse her back to health so she could do whatever she wanted with her life.

Just then his eyes fell on a black silk piece thrown to the back of the wardrobe. It looked like a robe when he held it out in the light.

The skimpy piece would have to do since he didn’t want to waste more time.

So he quickly took it to the bathroom and filled the sink with some water so he could hand wash it quickly.

Hopefully, by noon, it would be dry and ready for her to lay in.

After hanging it out on the balcony, he returned to her side, drawing the covers high around her neck and checking the IV bag to see when he’d have to change it.

By tomorrow, he wanted to start giving her food.

He’d bought soup and crackers with him, he even had porridge since it would be turning colder outside during the season. Those foods would be easier on her stomach if he fed her slowly enough.

She was back asleep as soon as he was done fiddling around, so he had undisturbed time to focus on the bin of paper he’d brought back from the library.

Most of what he searched through was trash, completely unreadable, and far too burnt to be able to save. But there were a few pieces he read over that were promising. Those were the ones he focused on.