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It was only when Kamilah locked the door behind her that she let the weight of her injuries fall on her all at once. She staggered momentarily before gritting her teeth and making her way to the bathroom.
She placed efficiency over gentleness, disinfecting and tightly wrapping her wounds, unable to contain a hiss when she was too rough with a still fresh wound.
Her hands went through motions that were familiar and yet also out of practice- it had been decades since she’d been in such a battle, since she’d been taken so off guard.
Her phone was a temptation where it lay on the table near her- she had numerous thralls on call, just a few taps of her finger away.
Yet she did not want their blood now. She did not want the soothing relief that their blood would bring, parching her thirst and healing her simultaneously.
Even now she could feel the cells of her body working tirelessly to regenerate but it was a testament to the strength of her enemies that she was still feeling the effects of the wounds they’d inflicted on her.
But she relished the pain.
After all, it was one of the last vestiges of her humanity. She could no longer feel the sun’s rays on her skin, she could no longer survive without feeding on another’s essence, she could no longer age even as the sands of time slipped faster and faster through her fingers.
But she could feel pain and she grasped onto the sensation like a lifeline. It was her salvation and repentance all at once, a reminder that after thousands of years on this earth that she could still feel something, a reminder that this was nothing compared to the bloodshed and pain she’d wreaked on thousands of individuals.
Finally finished with her wounds bandaged, Kamilah sighed and felt a bone-deep weariness that was unrelated to the battle settle over her. She slipped into her bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she would ever stop hurting.
Her hands were soft.
It had been a brutal battle and like she had done so many times before, Kamilah had returned to her apartment, to take care of her injuries in solitude and peace.
But unlike the times before, MC had followed her.
Kamilah had been wary at first at the woman’s presence, ready to refuse any offers of blood and not ready for the questions that were sure to follow.
But MC made no attempt to offer her blood, instead sinking to her knees in front of Kamilah, with the first aid kit splayed out on her lap.
She was inexperienced, Kamilah could tell, her fingers clumsy at times. But her hands were soft and her touch tender as she cared for the many wounds that littered Kamilah’s body.
And even with the pain, Kamilah couldn’t help but close her eyes at the feel of her hands on her skin. How long had it been since she’d felt the touch of another?
How long had it been since she’d let someone become so close to her, so intimate with her?
“I’ll always be here for you,” MC suddenly declared, startling Kamilah from her contemplative state and the woman felt a surge of affection upon seeing the earnest, genuine emotion in MC’s eyes.
With a small smile that left MC’s heart fluttering, Kamilah murmured,
“I know.”