Chapter 5

I was almost disappointed to wake up next to him instead of in his arms like the day before. I looked around the room, realizing first that I was on a bed, and second that there were posters on the walls. There was also what looked like a family photo with someone crossed out, but I couldn't see it well from where I was. I remembered what had happened with the Tank the previous night just as I moved my leg, sending a wave of pain up my leg, and causing me to bite my lip to avoid crying out. I looked at Marky, and he looked at me.

"I... I don't think it's broken." He said to me.

"What makes you think that?" I replied.

"Well, an' I mean, I ain' a doctor or nothin', but it didn't feel broken."

"You felt my leg while I was asleep?"

"Yeh, I jus' wanted to make sure it weren't broken or nothin'."

I nodded. "Could you... feel it again for me, right now?"

He blinked, and turned to get closer to my legs. "Um, sure... why?"

"I want to double check."

He started at the middle of my thigh, squeezing gently, then moving down a few centimeters and repeating the action. He did this until he reached my shin, where he started feeling down the leg without skipping the centimeters. I didn't feel an pain until he got down around my ankle where it shot up my leg again, causing me to cry out.

"I wonder if it's broken or dislocated..." I thought aloud after the pain subsided enough.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"Well, if it's dislocated, you could probably just snap it back... A break is a different story."

"Oh. How d'ya tell the diff'rence?"

I shrugged. "Well, my foot would look grossly out of place." I looked down at my foot to find it at a 60º angle to the right of my shin. "I'd say it's dislocated."

"Uh-huh. But what 'f yer wrong and it's broken?"

"Well find that out, won't we? Snap it hopefully into place."

He gripped my calf in one hand, my foot in the other. I could tell he was nervous from the way he repeatedly moved his grip, until he decided to do it. He jerked my foot outward, toward my shin quickly, and I could hear a somewhat sickening crunch. I cried out in pain yet again, the loudest yet, the pain sending a reverberation through my body. A few tears slipped from my eyes, and I gripped the sheets tightly.

As the pain slowly crept back down to a dull throb in my ankle, I looked at Marky. He was obviously worried that he'd done the wrong thing, or that I'd been wrong. I looked down at my foot to find it back in place, save a little kink around my ankle. I figured I should stay off of my feet for at least an hour, but I decided to push myself up slightly on the bed I was in. I felt pain, but nothing like when I first tried to move my leg. I let out a deep sigh of relief that I had guessed correctly.

I looked at Marky, his eyes still holding the worry. I grabbed his hand gently, and held it in mine. His skin was soft, and his hand held mine in return. I looked at him, and spun around to get up, deciding to forego the hour. I set my feet lightly on the cold concrete floor, and gradually added weight as Marky provided support for me. It wasn't pleasant at all, but I managed to walk out into the main room and sit in a chair, limping all the way. I would've stayed in the bed, but I wanted to watch Marky make ramen.

And make ramen he did. I found myself chuckling while watching him, remembering a time that I'd lived two weeks straight on nothing but ramen. I got really good at cooking it, though it's not really one of those things that you can become an artisan chef at making. Oh well, it's ramen, and ramen is yummy.

He sat across from me at the small table he had, and we ate our ramen together. We didn't talk much, the only conversation being him asking me if I was okay. That said, we did do a lot of looking at each other while eating. I don't know what he was thinking, but I know I was looking at his face and thinking about how cute he was. If circumstances were less zombie-filled, I'd go out with him. I guess I started staring at him, because I didn't realize that there wasn't any ramen in my bowl or on my fork until I stuck it in my mouth.

I chuckled with a nervous edge to it, and handed my bowl to him to clean, seeing how I was unable to do so myself. He sat down at the table and sighed softly, smiling at me. "Anyone ever tell ya yer beautiful, Opal?" he asked me.

"Not outright, but it wasn't uncommon to get wolf-whistled at." I responded.

He nodded. "Ever had a boyfriend or 'nything?"

I shook my head. "Nope, have you had a girlfriend?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Only girl I ever relly talked to was m' sister."

"Huh. Why'd you ask?"

He sighed. "Well, yer a pretty girl, an' I was wond'rin' if you'd..."

"Be yours? I'd love to." I kissed him gently.