"Father?", I echoed mechanically and now looked at the man in front of me with watchful eyes.
The blond hair looked dull and had no shine. Instead, you could already see grayed roots and stray strands.
The green eyes, however, showed sharpness and alertness, despite the outlined wrinkles. They had a clear and truly beautiful musky green that I had never seen before.
In fact, I didn't know what I looked like myself, however, I would be incredibly happy to have similar mirrors. They were very clear and concise.
Purely on the outside, I would guess my counterpart to be in his late forties, however, this was only based on my speculations. After all, I could not recall any memories at the moment.
Therefore, I did not know how to react to his words, not to mention to the man in front of me.
Neither his sight, words, touch, warmth nor scent triggered anything in me. In general, I felt this whole situation just as surreal and found no reference. It actually seemed for this reason as if I were a mere spectator.
Although the man in front of me seemed to be genuinely concerned about me and seems deeply shaken, I could not establish any emotional connection with him.
Neither memories nor other sensations were stimulated by the last few minutes. This fact made this situation incredibly uncomfortable, as it seemed that I could not even recognize my father. The man currently seemed to be really struggling to give me a shaky smile, even though I was probably not only overwhelming him, but also simply hurting him with my memory gap.
He came expecting his sick daughter to have finally woken up, only to come face to face with a stranger who didn't even know his name.
The elder finally caught his breath as well in that moment, as his chest rose and fell frantically over the last few minutes. The proof that my counterpart immediately came to me after he learned that I was conscious and also responsive. Dropped everything to be bitterly disappointed.
"I'm sincerely sorry, but I can't remember you," I confessed after a few moments of hesitation, hoping that maybe it would all come crashing down on me in the next few seconds and I would be able to remember abruptly.
Silently, I watched the reaction of my counterpart, who seemed to hold his breath for a moment before letting it escape abruptly. In fact, he even quirked his lips a bit further into a smile as he cautiously approached my bed.
Was he trying to soothe me?
Because of my current condition, it was impossible for me to sit up, let alone stand. Not to mention the bruises and marks that had developed in the meantime from my fall.
Nervously, I licked my still-cracked lips once, while watching from wary eyes as the man actively decreased the distance between us for the first time.
For some reason, I didn't know why the careful, almost cautious touch surprised me.
Apparently, my father seemed to genuinely care about me and to love me deeply, given his current behavior.
Nevertheless, he stroked my cheek with such uncertainty, as if he expected to be burned at any moment by the slightest touch on my skin.
"Are you not well, father?", I inquired timidly, as I noticed the trembling of his hands and pale face.
Had the shock combined with the commotion been too much for him?
He didn't seem to be the youngest anymore, which is why his current behavior worried me noticeably.
The last thing I wanted was to cause my father even more grief and that, after the psychological pain, he must also suffer physical pain due to me.