The woman laughed. “Of course you can. I’ll grab some towels and help you with your shower.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Elliot rise to his feet, and before I could stop myself, I looked back at the nurse and smiled.
“No need.” I jabbed my thumb in Elliot’s direction. “He’ll help me.”
The “he” in question stumbled back into his seat, and without looking his way, I knew he was staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes. I could sense his stare as if it were burning a hole in the side of my head.
“No problem,” the nurse continued, unaware that Elliot was having a mental breakdown. “I’ll get you some towels and—”
“My mum has a whole bag packed for me with everything I’ll need,” I interrupted with a chuckle. “She’s well prepared.”
The nurse grinned. “I’ll still grab you the towels, just so she doesn’t have a load of washing to do.”
“That’s kind of you, thanks so much.”
She spun on her heel and left the room as my eyes moved to Elliot. He still hadn’t moved, and he was still staring at me. I lifted my hand and waved it in front of his face. The movement jolted him from his trance, and he suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Maybe the nurse should help ye, Noah.”
He was scared – of what I wasn’t sure.
“You’re stronger than she is; if I fall, there’s a better chance that you’d catch me.”
I was manipulating him a little bit, and he looked so stressed out over it that it made me grin.
He scowled at me. “Why’re ye smilin’?”
“Because you look scared to be locked in a room with me while I’m naked.”
He sat back down and swallowed. He clasped his hands together on his knees and I noticed one of his legs was shaking. “I’m terrified, and excited, and worried, and a bunch of other emotions,” he admitted as he ran his hand through his dark hair. “I haven’t been close to you without clothes on in years.”
I reached over and grabbed his unsteady hand.
“I need you, Elliot. I need your help, not a stranger’s.”
He exhaled a breath. “You’re a little witch. I know good and well ye just want me alone. Don’t even try and deny it, I can see it in those pretty greens of yours.”
Unashamed, I shrugged as my grin deepened, making him laugh. He got to his feet, placed his hands on his hips and nodded once.
“Let’s get ye washed now, because if we wait until later, I’ll drive meself insane thinkin’ about it. I may run all the way home, so let’s get to it.”
I laughed as he helped me into a sitting position. Then, with him supporting me, my feet touched the floor with the intent to walk for the first time since I’d woken up from my coma, and though putting any weight on my leg felt a little strange, it felt good. It felt like I was truly getting better physically. Dad had told me to take things day by day, and though I wished for the days to pass me by so I could leave the hospital, I found myself not minding being so helpless when Elliot was next to me.
I didn’t need the aid of a crutch; Elliot took the majority of my weight as I hopped on one foot to the other side of the room. My strength wasn’t close to being back, but I managed to get into the bathroom and sat down on the fold-down seat under the shower head without collapsing from exhaustion. I was out of breath and it worried Elliot, so he crouched down next to me and searched my eyes for signs of pain. I wouldn’t put it by him to pick me up and put me back in bed if he thought I was hurt in any way.
“I did it.” I beamed as joy bubbled up inside my chest. “I got in here.”
I was glad I was seated because the smile Elliot shot my way would have knocked me off my feet otherwise.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll get the towels off of the nurse.”
I nodded, and when he left the room and closed the door behind him, I began to undress. After moving out of the ICU, I’d started wearing pyjamas instead of hospital gowns. When I began to strip out of my top, my arms got tired when it was halfway over my head. It was ridiculous what a little movement did after being bedbound for so long.
“Shite, sorry!”
I removed my top huffing and puffing and found Elliot in the bathroom. He was facing the closed door with his back to me.
“Elliot.” I stared at the back of his head. “You can’t help me if you’re all the way over there.”
“Right, sorry.”
He put the towels on the hooks on the back of the door, then turned and crossed the room. I was shirtless and had to use his body to pull myself up. He saw how I was struggling to balance myself in order to remove the rest of my clothes.
“You’re making things awkward for yourself. Unstrap your boot first. Sit back down.”
I did as I was told, and sat back while Elliot undid the strap on my boot and removed it. The compression of the boot disappeared and my leg felt so weird without it. It had been taken off a few times over the last week, but I still frowned when I looked at the brand-new scar on my leg. The scabs had fallen off and now it was just a big, chunky, jagged red line.
“My poor leg,” I sighed. “I’ll never be a footballer now.”
Elliot snorted and helped me up. I placed my foot on the ground but didn’t put a whole lot of weight on it. I was awkwardly trying to tug down
