After the disinfecting was finished, I didn't bandage him, as it would be better for the wounds to just scab over.
Instead, I couldn't resist and traced an old whip scar with my fingertips. It was on Jude's lower back, not on his shoulders, like his current wounds. Surprisingly, this contact brought Jude to tremble, a low growl coming from his throat.
"Sorry." I said, and took my hand away again. But I couldn't just let him lay here alone and bloody. Putting the first aid kit down on the floor, I changed the direction I sat in, leaned with my dress, and all against the headboard beside Jude.
My hand found his hair on its own. With his head turned away from me and his eyes hidden, it was so much easier to touch him. I heard him sigh in satisfaction and was again reminded of a cat—a much larger cat.
Jude had thick locks; his hair was cut short on the sides, which accentuated his ears. Besides the hairstyle looking cool, it also gave off an adorable and youthful touch. On top of his head instead, his hair was growing like weed, and it felt good, besides being coated in styling products. Jude seemed to have put effort into his appearance today. Maybe for his grandparents, possibly to take someone home.
It wasn't necessary; with his face and body, he could be a disgusting little teenager that didn't care of himself, and the girls would still lay right at his feet.
Now, having a moment to rest, I could think about the new information I had gathered today. For once, I know now that I am not the stand-in for Jude's mother. Thomas spoke of her having black eyes, and this brought up another question. If he was so obsessed with his white moonlight, why did he marry someone who looked nothing like her? Was it an arranged marriage, or was it because Jude was on the way?
And what was that with his grandparents? Not only their reaction to me, but also to Jude, was he an outcast in his family?
The head under my hand turned, and Jude faced me again. I wanted to retract my hand, but he caught it, holding it in place.
"Don't." He said.
"Put your arm to your side again." Every time he moved his arms, especially lifting them, his wounds would start bleeding again.
"Then don't stop." Jude said, apparently liking to be petted. I chuckled and continued to stroke through his hair.
"Do you know whose stand-in I am?" Why go around and think so hard, when an insider is right by my side?
"No. But I know that my father has loved her since his childhood." Jude traced my face with his eyes.
"She should have been as beautiful as you, for him to be so completely enthralled."
Averting my eyes, I didn't know how to react to such a hidden but also insultingly obvious compliment. Again, returning to the abyss, I continued to question,
"Then what do you know?"
Jude smiled before licking his lips, my eyes following the motion that nearly brought us into depravity. He halted, seeing that my eyes had wandered, only to continue when I turned my head away.
"That is a good question. I know that my mother drugged and practically raped my father, with me being the result of it."
My head whipped back, and I looked at him in astonishment. Besides not expecting this kind of thing to really happen in real life, even if it had happened, wasn't it mandatory for the child to never ever hear about it? Had his parents really told him that his existence had begun this way?
My hand never stopped combing through his hair, silently encouraging him to continue, as I didn't avert my eyes from him anymore. I gave my full attention, not because I wanted to find out more about the reason for my being here, but to find out more about Jude himself.
Jude continued lazily, seemingly not fazed by the tragic tale he told.
"My mother was obsessed with my father. After giving birth, she went to my grandparents with me and demanded marriage. She got what she wanted, but my father never touched her again, nor did he look at her. I don't know if she knew about the obsession he was holding or if she then found out, but she started to bleach her black hair, wearing blue contact lenses..."
Jude's eyes were burying into mine.
"She wanted so desperately to look like you."
My hand stopped as I felt Jude veering in a dangerous direction.
"Had that woman really looked like you? I am curious...." He grabbed my hand, which was still on his head, and pulled me so hard that it nearly yanked my shoulder out. The next time I opened my eyes, he was on me, and from above looking down on me.
Gripping my chin, his eyes on my face were so fervently scalding, it felt like an assault. And seeing the stormy abyss, I suddenly understood what went through his mind; I had found the reason for his fascination with me since day one.
Not only was his father obsessed with someone who should look like me, but his mother was as well, trying to imitate the white moonlight. And now, a woman was brought to him, mirroring the appearance that had brought down their family.
I was mocking myself so greatly for all the unnecessary thoughts I had wasted on Jude. From worrying that he was in love with me, to assuming that he was searching for a sane adult and mother figure to protect him, when it was just the same kind of ugly obsession his parents had had, he had just followed in their footsteps; the lunacy was just given to the next generation.
"Don't come to me at night anymore." I told him, and a resolution had formed.
I would escape this place and the psychopathic people in it the following week.
*******************
Thomas POV
The first time I saw you was the first time I had met her as well. While her existence only meant excruciating pain, it was you who tended to my wounds; your existence meant solace.
I was fascinated that, besides your similarities, you were not at all the same. You were so tender, and your touch was careful and proficient.
So proficient that I asked myself if you were also a victim of her games. I was eager to know more about your life and about your relationship with her. I was just a young child, but I think the moment you looked at me and asked me if I needed help, I had already fallen for you.