A Natural Act (Contradictions) Read Free Page A

hospitals for no apparent reason.
    “Pain medication will kick in soon,” he frowns again, placing another blanket over me with continued tenderness.
    Clearly he misinterpreted my groan. Thank goodness.
    “Rest,” he instructs, folding his body back into the chair beside my bed once he’s tucked all the ends of the blanket in.
    “Where am I?” I manage groggily.
    “Derby Royal hospital.”
    “ Who are you?” I ask, surprising myself because talking is a bit of a chore but I just need to understand why my bedside is being guarded by this confusingly alluring stranger.
    “ Craig,” he smirks, knowing full well he hasn’t really given me an answer.
    As his lips curve up, I’m struck by just how attractive he really is. It was obvious he was fairly good looking from the very first moment I saw him but it became secondary to the fear generated by Nigel’s presence.
    “And you’re Isabella,” he grins gesturing to the chart on the table.
    I nod.
    “And you’re a bit of a mess,” he gestures to my face and frowns.
    I can’t explain or understand how much it hurts to see him look at me like that – with sadness and frustration. It shouldn’t bother me. I don’t know this man.
    “ Sorry,” he continues when I close my eyes instead of responding.
    It feels like he’s apologising for the fact that I’m beaten and broken but that’s not his fault. It’s mine.
    I keep my eyes pressed closed to prevent the tears but it’s too much and I shake slightly as silent drops course over my cheeks. The dampness is brushed away with a soft tissue and I open my one eye to find Craig’s two.
    The crystal sharp blue of his eyes meets mine with a frown of concern on the bridge of his nose.
    “Sorry,” I sniffle. He already has to look at my swollen, bruised face. He shouldn’t have to see me snotty and crying as well.
    “ Don’t apologise,” he scolds and I meet his eyes to see how serious he is.
    Very.
    “Nothing to apologise for,” he explains when he sees my shock.
    “ What does my face look like?” I ask with a cringe.
    “ Want me to get a mirror?” He replies with the doubtful lilt of one eyebrow.
    I shake my head slig htly. I’m not sure I could cope with seeing that train wreck.
    “ So you just want me to describe it?” He frowns doubtfully.
    I nod as best I can.
    “I’m not sure I can,” he grimaces apologetically.
    I grin at the slightly comical expression on his face and it feels foreign to my muscles. I don’t remember the last time I smiled so genuinely. I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t too scared to smile.
    “ I’m not looking for a lavish linguistic description. Just tell me how bad I look on a scale from slightly mushed fruit to thoroughly pummelled chicken breast.”
    His lips quirk upwards and I think he might be fighting a smile. “You’re joking about this?”
    “ Would you rather I cried some more?”
    “ No. I guess not,” he replies pensively. There’s a period of silence and I take a few deep breaths and reposition myself in the bed slightly. I’m slowly starting to feel a bit more human and I’m not sure if that’s good or not because humans have the ability to feel emotions and emotions can be more painful than physical affliction.
    Until now , I’ve been quite happily ignoring the reason why I’m lying in this hospital bed in favour of the pleasant, inked distraction at my bedside and my drug-addled stupor.
    “ You look like crap,” Craig says eventually and with a shockingly blunt delivery.
    “ I thought I might,” I sigh in acceptance.
    “ Your eyes are very beautiful though,” he says, his voice lowered slightly. He’s obviously trying to make me feel better.
    “ Um,” I hedge. “You mean my eye?”
    “ Well, I’m assuming they’re both the same,” he grins, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees. He studies my face as though trying to see through my swollen eyelids.
    “ Unless you have heterochromia iridum,” he says,