My Eros (Modern Cupid and Psyche Dirty)

"Am...I...on...painkillers?"

The redheaded physician nods. "Just to help you sleep better for the rest of the night."

How weird. Even though I see her lips moving in tandem with her words, it's as if her voice is...dubbed.

"I...feel...weird," I hear myself say in a voice that still doesn't sound like it's coming from my own throat.

"It's the painkillers," Keia explains. "It contains herbs you can only harvest in Mt. Olympus. It's more effective than any human-made medicine, but it can also make you feel loopy for the first hour or two"

"Ah." I start to smile...and find myself subsequently surprised at how much effort it takes to make my lips curve. The realization makes me start to frown, but this, too, turns out to be a challenge, and I can't help wincing as my temples give a warning throb.

"You need to relax," Keia advises gently.

"She doesn't know how," I hear Nia mutter under her breath.

"Shut...up."

"See what I mean, doc?" But Nia's tone is more relieved than exasperated, and I make a mental note to tease her about this once I'm feeling better.

"Does your head still hurt?"

I almost shake my head but catch myself in time. No movement, no pain, and so I make myself answer verbally in the negative instead. "I'm...sorry," I also remember to add after a moment, "that...this...is...getting...to...be...a...habit."

"I'm glad you noticed that," a familiar voice bites out, and the moment I hear it, I'm unable to control myself from jerking—-

Ouch!

Keia lets out a sound of frustration just as the professor comes to stand at the foot of my bed.

"Now, look at what you've done!" The doctor lifts my hospital gown up to check if I've reopened my wound, and I see the professor's jaw clench.

"How bad is it?" I hear him demand.

"It hasn't hit any vital organs," Keia informs him as she pulls my hospital gown back down, "but it should still take about ten days for her wound to completely heal." She then looks at me, saying warningly, "If you don't want your wound to start bleeding again, you need to refrain from making any sudden movements."

"We can always tie her to the bed," the professor suggests silkily before I can even answer.

Nia lets out a snort of laughter while Keia is visibly fighting back a smile.

Aaargh!

I want to glare at the doctor, but the moment my brows start to push together—-

Ouch.

This time, the throbbing in my head is a little too much, and I just don't have the will to fight it. "I...give...up," I mumble as my eyelids fall shut. "I'm...going...to...sleep..."

I hear the professor ask to speak with Keia in private, and a moment later, Nia whispers, "They just left."

"Good...riddance," I manage to mutter even with my eyes still closed.

Nia insists on staying with me for the night, and Keia lets my friend have her way even though it's strictly against the rules. I find myself drifting in and out of sleep for the next few hours, and every time I climb out of sleep, it's to feel my chest hurting even more than the part of my body that's been stabbed.

I know it's so, so stupid of me to care, especially since all of my life I've been allergic to the divine, but each time I wake up, I just can't help but wonder—-

Does the god really not know I've been stabbed? Does he really not care for me anymore? Or did he never care for me at all, and he was simply toying with me like gods often do with humans?

I'd really like to know the answers to those questions, dammit. I need...what's that word again? The one people use when they can't get over their exes but they're too proud to...ah, right.

Closure.

Yes, that's exactly what I need with the god, and it's just proof of how closure means so much to me, that I find myself caring more about it than finding out who it was that stabbed me.

"RISE AND SHINE, PATIENT H."

Nia's unusually chirpy tone is enough to make me groggily rub my eyes open. My roommate is not a morning person, and I force myself to sit up, wanting to know what—-whoa.

My roommate's just pulled close a wheeled meal tray over my bed, and it's loaded with so much food you'd think we're due to throw a party. Croissants, buns, and pancakes. A colorful assortment of fruits and glasses that bear everything from coffee to shakes to lemonades, a platter of cheeses and cold cuts, and there's even a good, old-fashioned American breakfast of toast, bacon, and eggs, along with some hash browns on the sides.

Looking up, I ask Nia warily, "Is this going to be charged to my account?"

A sly smile unfolds over the other girl's lips. "Guess who this is from?"

My god.

The words pop out of nowhere, but I don't even realize I've whispered it out loud until I hear my roommate laugh.