Beep~ Beep~ Beep~ Beep~
I wake up to the rhythmic sound of the heartbeat monitor connected to Liz, a constant and comfortable reminder of her being here and alive. The light coming in from the window shows that it is still the morning, and not much time has passed, maybe an hour or two.
I raise my head, and I am surprised to meet the gaze of a pair of violet eyes. My surprise makes me freeze, before making my eyes sting, and my chest tighten.
"Sis~"
I don't even try to be strong. I let my emotions overflow and make my tears come out even as Liz smiles softly at me.
That softness, that gentleness, I thought I would never see them again, feel them again.
My heart aches, and my chest tightens only to relax, because I can't hold back anymore.
"Sis~!"
I hug Liz and bury my face in the side of her chest, and she hugs me back with the arm she has on my side, stroking my back while I wet her gown.
"It's alright. It's alright, Max. I'm here."
Rather than calming me down, those words only break down the valves I have been holding up, and my tears turn from streams to rivers. I stain her warmth with the cold of wet tears meeting the air. And like always, she takes it all, discomfort, pain, sadness, all, with a gentle smile, a warm gaze.
*Clack*
I don't know when I feel asleep. I wake up to the sound of the door cautiously closing, but still audibly, in the silence. My first thought is to raise my head to look at Liz, to check on her, then look at the door to see who has come in. But then I'm startled to find something familiar in my mouth, very familiar, along with a taste just as familiar, on my tongue, and in my throat.
My surprise makes my blood accelerate in my veins, as I finally understand, when my mind has finished connecting with reality, that it is a nipple, Liz's, and the taste on my tongue is her milk, something I have gotten used to after sleeping with her for the past months since the accident, and which she had worked to keep after seeing how I enjoy it.
I find my right hand up, palm against the soft breast the warm nipple in my mouth belongs to, then I hear the footsteps behind me, from the one who has opened the door.
Right! Someone came in. And here I am, lying sideways beside Liz, her breast exposed, and her nipple in my mouth, totally unlike a sixteen years old teenager.
My heart skips a beat, and I almost jump up. Almost, because before I can spring up, the pain from the wound on my thigh flares up.
*Pop*
"Hiss!"
The sound of the rosy nipple popping out of my mouth is drowned by my painful utterance. I thought I have toughened up a little after what happened half a year or so ago, but I have only become less delicate. I have not become hardened enough to ignore pain like an everyday occurrence.
But if something can suppress pain that is not debilitating enough, it is a glimpse of death, literal or social. And the latter makes me hold my leg while looking behind me.
I'm met with a smiling face which fortunately belongs to a nurse, because in the next moment I recall my sister's exposed state. The embarrassment recedes as I swing my head back, and I see Elizabeth calmly reclaim what she has left to my whims, and cover it before adjusting the blanket.
Then I remember. Some time along the way, Liz has calmed me down like a baby, convincing me to help her empty her tits engorged after a day of neglect. And I have taken to the invitation, calmed down, and drifted into sleep after feeling full. And that must be when she has shared the blanket that is now covering me up to the waist with me.
Nevertheless, with her modesty not a problem anymore, the embarrassment brought by the situation comes rushing back as I ignore Liz's smile and look at the nurse with mortification hidden behind my calm facade. Well, somewhat calm facade, because I bite my lip slightly as I look at her.
In her twenties like Liz, close to her thirties. She is mature, not just in mind but also in body, though without the exaggeration shown by Helene, Emmie's mother, or even Liz, my own sister. Though she is still better than me, who can be said to be small, and hopefully just immature.
With her hands in her pocket, she smiles affectively at me a slight but good natured teasing gleam in her eyes, but only to hide the pity, the sympathy and the heartache as she let out a suggestive smile:
"Now I understand why Dr Lockdream has been lactating for some time, and she did nothing to regulate the situation."
'Poor girl. First her parents, and now this. There are too many lunatics! You can even suckle, if that is what will heal your little heart.'
I blink, some warmth sneaking into my heart, and my face softens a little.
I turn my head away. I see Liz's smile from the corner of my eyes, but I focus on taking off the blanket to get down from the bed.
"I envy you, girl. And I don't know how many in the hospital will be green with envy if they see what I just saw, men and women alike."
I pause slightly, pushing down the little bit of dissatisfaction that creeps up at the idea of someone coveting Liz, not like 'Mike', who is now dead, but someone who truly does. But I don't speak, and I still don't reply, as I put my feet in the slippers, careful not to stress my wound.
"No need to worry, Max, I won't laugh at you. Instead I envy you for being able to drink milk without any of those chemicals that are causing many of the diseases we have to take care of here. In the long run, you might be healthier than the majority of the population."