The question lingered in the air like a whisper, causing Raven to pause mid-bite, his gaze locking onto the striking woman seated across from him. Her inquiry cut through the ambient chatter of the dining hall, drawing his attention away from his meal.
"Is this just a game?" she asked, her voice soft yet probing, her eyes searching his for answers.
Raven felt a prickling sense of discomfort as he processed her words. It was as if she had unraveled a thread he had carefully woven around himself, exposing a vulnerability he hadn't realized he possessed.
"School informed me about the commotion earlier this afternoon," she continued, her tone now tinged with genuine interest. "I'm glad you've made a new friend. What's his name? He's your first friend after two years, right?"
Her questions pierced through Raven's defenses, evoking a mixture of emotions within him. He hesitated for a moment, grappling with how much to reveal, before finally responding, "His name is Alaric, and he's not a friend."
As he walked, Raven couldn't shake the lingering question from his mind: since when did she care whether he had friends or not?
It's funny how the woman in front of him suddenly acted as if she cared about him. She even took the time to have dinner together.
Truly cliché.
Raven stared at Marcella for so long that she began to feel uncomfortable and started to move from her seat.
Did Raven need to remind Marcella of her position in the family?
Wouldn't it be hypocritical if she suddenly assumed the role of a mother?
It was too late for that.
"I'm done with dinner. I'm going to rest," he announced curtly, his strides purposeful as he made his way out of the dining hall.
The words came out more sharply than he had intended, his tone betraying a hint of defensiveness. Pushing his plate aside, Raven rose from his seat, a sudden urge to escape the scrutiny in her gaze surging within him.
"Okay, don't forget to take your medication, Raven. Good night," Marcella said with a tinge of concern in her voice, her words echoing with the weight of routine care.
Raven wasn't surprised that managing his medication schedule was yet another addition to Marcella's list of responsibilities, a reminder of the structured life he led under her care.
"Yeah," he replied tersely, his tone cool and distant, a reflection of the walls he had built around himself.
***
Raven stood before the bathtub, turning the knobs of both the hot and cold water faucets with a deliberate twist. As the rush of water filled the tub, he gazed at the pooling liquid, mesmerized by its cascading flow.
How long could he endure beneath the water's surface without the need to draw breath?
Five minutes?
The question lingered in Raven's mind like a persistent echo, casting shadows of doubt upon his abilities. After two long years ensnared in a coma, he had yet to test the depths of his swimming prowess once more.
The uncertainty weighed upon him, a heavy burden born from the absence of validation and the lingering specter of unexplored potential.
All the muscles in his body, which had once been toned from his days as a swimmer, had now atrophied during his two years of lying incapacitated.
With determined steps, Raven walked towards the bedroom door, locking it securely, and double-checking to ensure that it wouldn't open easily.
A small but crucial step in safeguarding his security and privacy.
As Raven lay upon the bed, his hands gently folded behind his head and his eyelids softly shut, he found solace in the vast emptiness that engulfed him. It was a sensation he had grown to cherish deeply.
If ever asked to reflect on the most profound experience of his life, Raven would undoubtedly recount his two-year journey within the depths of a coma.
Aware that his perspective might be deemed unconventional, Raven understood that few could fathom the allure of such profound stillness and absence.
While many extolled the virtues of consciousness and the richness of life's experiences, Raven found himself captivated by the void that had once been his existence.
During those dreamless nights and silent days, Raven discovered a tranquility that eluded him in wakefulness. It was a peace untouched by the chaos of the world, a sanctuary of pure serenity.
Yet, as his recovery progressed, Raven found himself grappling with a tumultuous wave of emotions. The last six months had been particularly arduous, as he navigated through a labyrinth of exhaustion, longing, and a deep yearning for the quietude of dreamless slumber.
Raven reached for his medication bottle and scrutinized its contents. There it was, the sedative compound that ensured his deep slumber upon ingestion. No wonder he slept so soundly after taking it.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he added a few extra pills beyond the recommended dosage.
After a moment's contemplation, why not just finish the entire bottle?