The Soft-Hearted Prince and His Dragon

8 - Sen

I sat there for hours, watching Galen sleep. He'd be alright—his wound wasn't as nasty as it could've been. He didn't need to suffer any injury had you not resisted turning into your human form, a little voice in my head said. It was true. Since I had shapeshifted anyway in the end, it was all for nothing. How did I allow myself to be so selfish? How could I let the fear of being rejected mess up with my values and expose him to such danger?

At times, those unjoyful thoughts were substituted by the urge of going back to my dragon form before Galen wakes up again. He said he liked me, but from my experience, that meant nothing after I shapeshifted. I fought the thoughts as hard as I could. He risked his life to stay by my side. The least I could do was to show him who he's really staying with.

Galen growled and moved. I watched his sleepy eyes open and come into focus as he came around. "Hey," he said, and I watched another wide smile spread across his face just as it did when he woke up before. His usually so melodious voice had a tinge of hoarseness in it.

"Hey," I responded. My heart was beating wildly as if trying to jump out of my chest and run away. Somehow it felt more manageable to fight for my life than to stand in front of a man I cared for so much and show my real self. I wondered if other people had that, too.

I followed Galen's look as it slid down his body. He blinked when he realized that he wore fresh clothes and that his side was bandaged in a piece of clean fabric. "I washed your wound and changed your clothes. I didn't want an infection to get in," I said. "I hope you don't mind."

For a moment I panicked, because talking to him made me forget to keep turning my head away. I didn't want him to see. I didn't want him to see it so badly.

"I appreciate it. I'll attend to the wound as soon as I gather some strength, but... Sen, how do you feel?"

"I'm alright," I shrugged. "I cleaned and bandaged my wounds, too, when you were out. A few of them were deeper, but nothing I won't survive. My scales protected me well."

Galen nodded, not interrupting his stare. "Sen, what is it?"

"What do you mean?" I looked away. I was not able to withstand his inquiring gaze.

"You can barely look at me. Is it about your scars?"

I didn't answer, which I suppose was enough of an answer for Galen. "Show me," he said, reached out for my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back. Then I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I turned my face straight towards Galen. In the silence, my head was a disarray of old memories and guesses on what goes on through his head. While the left side of my face was smooth and tight, the right showed fire burns all over. It looked like a crumpled piece of clay. I opened my eyes again when a minute passed, and I still couldn't hear any reaction.

Galen seemed to be waiting for that. "Come closer, please," he asked softly and reached his other hand towards my face.

I was so surprised that I jerked away from him. "I'm sorry," I whispered when I caught myself. I leaned forward again.

"Can I?" he asked.

I nodded. My chest was uncomfortably tight, and my breathing short and quick.

Galen's fingers brushed against the injured side of my face and caressed it gently, examining the skin. It felt like being burnt alive, but something else was lurking underneath that terror. Was it... hope? I didn't think I was still capable of that emotion.

"Closer," Galen whispered again. Our faces were now only a few centimeters from each other. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and my chest so close to his. An image of our chests pushing against each other flashed through my head. My vision blackened for a moment from the amount of emotions trying to settle in my body. Galen's eyes were gazing at me with a force of a summer storm. He lifted his head to bring his mouth to my ear. I shivered.