Keeper of Souls

I had been here for a week, as in I have been conscious this week, the unconscious time I have spent here is unknown to me, as well as the man I am here with. I swore that knew him, at least I had thought, but I was wrong. My heart had lied to me, I lied to myself, and I had wanted him to be him, the boy I had known so long ago. He is dead, I reminded myself, he is dead and in a better place.
The fire crackled, boiling the unknown contents in a pot that hung above the fire. Malus had made it to my amazement, though I have yet to taste it to see if it was any good, but he was sure full a surprises; first he stabs me, intent on killing and the next he is taking care of me, my wound bandaged and healing. I also can’t stop staring at him when he is not looking, he resembles Luis so much; his deep brown eyes and his hands, rough to the touch but gentle with everything he handles. But it is the scars and the pained, savaged look to his eyes that throws me off; Luis was dead inside of him.
“If you like to stare so much, I’ll rip your eyes out and carry them with me so you can stare all you want.” Was his blunt reply.
“I’d like to keep my eyes,” I whispered back in timid retaliation. Malus ignored me, that or he didn’t hear me. He just went back to stirring the pot and I foolishly tried to get off from the bed. Pain erupted from my side and I gasped, laying back down and breathing deep to that I wouldn’t faint. The wound must have been worse than I had thought and much deeper. Then I saw his sword with the nasty hook on the edge of it, the hook that had caught me in the side and had drawn me near to him. His yellow eyes at the time had been full of hatred, but soon had been filled with recognition. We had known each other for six years, before he was kidnapped when we were both twelve.
“I should check your wound,” Malus said, catching me daydreaming.
“I’m sure it is all right,” I replied as he moved to the side of the bed, his hands reaching toward me.
“Your wounds haven’t been checked in a two weeks since I first bandaged it. Now let me see Aidan.” The name came as a shock to me, and so did his hands as he began to unwrap the cloth from around my chest. Cool air hit my breast as they were revealed.
“This might hurt,” he mumbled as ripped the rest of the bandage that had gotten stuck to the cloth. Slowly he sat me up and gave my revealed body a once over.
“Nice, though a bit on the small side,” he said referring to my breast as my face turned red and embarrassment grew. “A lot better though, from the last time I saw you.” Meaning when I was twelve and underdeveloped.
“What you’ve seen a lot of boobs to be an expert,” I retorted tartly.
“Maybe.” Was his simple reply, but it held a lot more meaning behind it, showing
me more and more that he wasn’t the boy I had known. “Maybe I’ve seen bigger boobs than you, though none have been so easy to hold in my hand.” And to my horror he cupped both in his hands as he knelt in front of me. The look in his eyes were all not savage then, but more like half and half. Half savage, half need. That look made me pause before throwing my hands up in front of me and covering myself. The look in his yellow eyes did not diminish.
I was saved though from the two knocks on the door and the when it opened to revail a man covered in shadows.
“Did you kill that Follower of the Great Evil,” he asked, but he stopped when he saw me, “or did you bring her home?”