Hadeezah Jubril21:20 (0 minutes ago)to me
Darren's POV
I have been meditating for quite some time now, and I can finally say I've mastered it. I no longer need to meet people physically before I can heal them in their dreams.
A few months ago, I was drawn to a lonely, broken soul drowning in pain. My heart ached when I saw him. He wouldn't even tell me his name.
I tried to help him feel a little better, but whenever I asked who he was, he shut me out completely. It's been three months since I last saw him. Somehow, he managed to block me out entirely, something no one else had ever done before. He must have an incredibly strong will.
My father mentioned that I had visitors some months ago, but I didn't meet them. I've been too occupied searching for the man from my dreams. But today, I decided to finally see them.
"Darren, the driver is here," my father said as he knocked and stepped into my room.
"Okay, Dad," I replied, grabbing my bag.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he teased.
I smiled and hugged him. "I love you."
"Love you too," he said with a grin, shooing me out of the room.
I walked downstairs and got into the car. When we reached the hospital, the driver led me into a ward.
"Mr. Smith, thank you for honoring our invitation. I'm John," the man introduced himself, extending a hand.
I nodded and shook his hand.
"Welcome, Mr. Smith," said a woman seated beside the bed.
The moment my eyes fell on the patient lying there, my breath caught. I rushed to his side and placed my hand on his forehead.
"Finally… we meet again," I whispered.
"Meet again?" John asked, confused.
"Yes," I said quietly. "We met months ago… in dreams. But he shut me out when I asked his name."
Mrs. Dean gasped softly. "Oh my God."
John leaned forward. "Can you reconnect with him?"
"I can try," I murmured.
Two weeks passed, but Caleb still wouldn't let me in. Every attempt ended in pitch blackness. My heart began to ache from the rejection.
One night, restless and desperate, I found myself murmuring aloud:
"You make my heart flutter. I know it hasn't been long since we met, but you've made me happier than anyone ever has. I don't know what to do anymore."
From the depths of my mind, I began to sing In Sleep by Lissie, my voice trembling with longing.
And then, he appeared. Caleb. Pale, expressionless, staring right at me.
I faltered mid-line, my heart skipping. I rushed to him.
"Caleb… I'm so sorry about before. I promise I won't ask questions anymore. Please, don't shut me out again. Let me help you. Let me walk with you. You've been asleep too long."
His only reply was a faint "Hmmmm."
He looked even worse than before. I hid my worry, though it tore me apart inside.
"Caleb, can I talk to you for five minutes? I swear I won't cross any boundaries. Just tell me where it hurts the most. Give me one month—if you don't feel any different by then, you can shut me out forever."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded and pointed to his hip bone.
"Did you fracture your hip?" I asked. Caleb nodded, tears glistening in his eyes.
"I'll help you heal. Don't question anything I give you to drink, I'd never harm you."
He nodded again.
I carefully laid him down and asked for permission to touch him. He agreed. As I traced my hands gently along his leg, he flinched and pressed my hand.
"Got it," I whispered. "Your intertrochanteric region is broken. That's just below the hip joint, where the upper femur juts outward."
He blinked at me silently.
"We'll go slow. You'll feel better soon," I promised. Over the months, my potions and ointments had grown stronger, I knew exactly what he needed.
"Drink this. It'll heal you from the inside," I said, handing him a potion. Then I pulled out my ointments.
"You'll need to start wearing briefs from tomorrow, Caleb, so I can access your hip and legs. Just lie in bed and let me do the work."
Caleb froze, staring at me with an unreadable expression. After a long silence, he muttered, "No."
Realizing my poor choice of words, I quickly corrected myself. "I meant, massage. I'll massage your legs with the ointment. That's all."
Embarrassed, he nodded. "Okay."
From then on, I applied ointments daily—to his hip, ankle, shoulders, back, and feet. Three months into the treatment, he began to improve. His legs moved more freely, his headaches lessened, though his face remained cold and unreadable.
"Caleb, smile a little," I urged one evening. "The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection."
He finally spoke, his lips curling slightly. "It's only one man's story. Things may go better, but difficulties exist. And nothing is solved by hiding them beneath poetry, nostalgia, or fake smiles."
I was stunned. These were the longest words he'd ever spoken to me.
I chuckled softly. "Caleb… somewhere out there, a shark is missing its cold eyes—because you have them."
He rolled his eyes at me, but I caught the faintest smirk.
Later, when he drifted to sleep, I reluctantly woke from the dream. It was noon. I didn't want to wake, I wanted to stay with him always. But reality called. That day, the doctor finally removed Caleb's ankle bandages.
When I arrived at the hospital, Mrs. Dean was overjoyed to see her son's progress.
"Aren't you late for your friend's daughter's engagement?" John teased her.
"I was waiting to see Caleb's ankle," Mrs. Dean said warmly. "And I must say, Darren, I'm impressed with what you've done so far. How is he doing?"
"He's improving," I admitted. "But he still keeps a cold face. I try to make him laugh, but he only smirks."
"Give him time," John whispered.
I nodded.
When Mrs. Dean left, I turned to John. "I need your help."
"Anything," John replied with a smile.
I sat back down beside Caleb, who looked far healthier than the first time I'd seen him on this bed. Quietly, I asked, "What time of year do you like best, Caleb? Spring, summer, autumn, or winter?"
"Winter… and spring," he mumbled.
"Good. Thank you. Can I stay with him tonight?"
John smiled and nodded.
That night, I rested my head on Caleb's pillow, intertwined my fingers with his, and drifted into sleep.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in the dream cabin I had built for him, a place in the mountains, with a waterfall and breathtaking landscapes. To my surprise, Caleb was already there, sitting on the porch.
"Caleb! You walked out here by yourself?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, but it took forever," he grumbled.
"It's a gradual process," I soothed, sitting beside him. "You'll get stronger."
Then I asked, "Aren't you tired of the sun? Want to see something else I can do?"
He smiled faintly and nodded.
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, snow blanketed the forest.
His eyes shifted from the trees back to me, filled with wonder. "You're… incredible," he said with a genuine smile.
I smiled back, sincerely this time—no more fake smiles, not since he had once called me out for it.
As the snow fell around us, Caleb spoke softly, his words like poetry.
"In the dark days of winter, dream of flowers to stay warm. To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake, you must stand in the cold. Winter may be on my head… but eternal spring lives in my heart. And what good is the warmth of summer, without winter's chill to make it sweet? Nothing burns like the cold, in the depths of winter."
He gazed into the distance, and I couldn't stop staring at him in awe.