Green Threads And Ghosts.
She was awake. Barely sitting up, pale as hell and wincing every time she moved, but awake. And stubborn as ever, already trying to run when her body could barely hold her upright. I had to bite back the flood of emotion that hit me seeing her open those eyes again. Relief, anger, awe, all tangled up in my chest. But I couldn’t let that show now. Not yet.
“I’ll be right back,” I told her, brushing her hair from her face. “Just gonna get the doc to look you over,
yeah?”
She didn’t argue, but the tension in her shoulders told me she hated the idea of needing help. She could be bleeding out and still try to walk it off. I slipped out of the room quietly, closing the door behind me. The hallway outside was dim, warm with morning light creeping in through the tall windows. I moved fast, heading for the medical wing of the estate but I didn’t get far before I heard footsteps and voices around the corner. Liam was first, long strides eating up the hallway, eyes already locked on me like he was waiting for an update. Matteo and Nico flanked him, both wearing the same expression, curiosity barely hiding behind a veil of casual interest.
“Well?” Liam asked, not even trying to play it cool.
“She’s awake,” I said shortly.
“She’s awake?” Matteo repeated, eyebrows shooting up. “Fuck.”
Nico let out a low whistle, smirking. “We’ve got a whole betting pool going, man. Half the crew thought she was a hallucination you cooked up from stress and whiskey.”
I glared at him, and he had the sense to sober up.
“I need to get the doctor in there,” I said, brushing past them. “She took a bullet, she’s still weak. She doesn’t need an audience.”
“Just want to meet her,” Liam said, holding up his hands. “She did save our asses.”
“And she’s not going anywhere,” Matteo added. “You’re not the only one who’s curious.”
I turned, stopping in my tracks. “You’ll get your chance. But not now. She needs rest, food, a shower, hell, she hasn’t even seen her own bandages yet. You want to scare her off before she even gets on her feet?” I wasn’t going to mention the whole nappy thing the doc put on her so she could piss while out cold. They didn’t need to know that, all they needed to know was that she needed time. They exchanged glances, then stepped back.
“Alright, alright,” Nico muttered. “But don’t think we’re not coming to meet your little ghost when she’s up. She’s the reason we’re all still breathing.”
I didn’t answer. I was already moving again. Because yeah, they’d meet her. But not as some legend, or the girl who saved the day. They’d meet her as Sage and I’d make damn sure she was strong enough to stand tall when they did because that’s the only way she’ll be seen by anyone but me…and doc, but he’s paid well to keep his feckin mouth shut.
The doctor came quickly once I gave the word, his bag already in hand and expression all business. I led him upstairs, and he didn’t ask questions, he knew better than to dig when it came to her. Sage was sitting up against the headboard when we stepped inside, her face unreadable but her jaw set tight like she was bracing for another round. The doctor gave her a small nod of greeting, then got straight to work while I stood by the door, arms crossed, silent. She didn’t flinch when he unwrapped the bandages. Didn’t wince when he palpated the bruising around her ribs or when he pressed around the stitches in her shoulder. She was stoic as always, letting him do his thing while pretending none of it mattered. Eventually, he sat back and exhaled, tucking his tools away.
“She’s lucky,” he said, glancing over at me. “Bullet passed clean through, no bone damage. She’ll heal fine. But she needs to rest. No rooftop sprints or disappearing acts. You hear me?”
Sage rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for rooftop sprints.”
“That’s good,” I muttered, stepping forward. “Because your ass isn’t leaving this house.”
The doctor gave me a tired look and left us alone again. The moment the door shut, I turned to her. “Bath’s already running. You’ll want it.”
She blinked at me. “You ran me a bath?”
1/2
7:58 pm
Green Threads And Ghosts.
“I’m not totally heartless.” I gave a shrug, heading for the hallway. “Take your time. Clean up. I’ll be downstairs cooking. You remember where the kitchen is, right… little ghost?”
She rolled her eyes again, but I didn’t miss the flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth before I stepped out. I hit the kitchen hard. Cooking was second nature, muscle memory and distraction all rolled into one. Something hearty, I thought. Comfort food. Something to put color back in her face. I started on pan-fried potatoes, chopped garlic and fresh herbs from the garden, sizzling up chicken in butter and thyme. Real food. Food you could feel in your bones. I was plating when I heard her bare feet on the hardwood. I didn’t turn. Not at first. Not until her quiet voice broke the silence.
“That smells like heaven.”
And when I looked up…There she was. Hair damp and brushed smooth, her skin pale but clean, glowing with the warmth of steam and soap. She wore nothing but one of my old green button-downs, my favorite one, the one I always wore when the world felt too heavy. It hung loose on her petite frame, sleeves rolled to her elbows, the hem brushing her bare thighs. She looked like she belonged in that shirt. Like she’d been made for it. Barefoot, quiet, and utterly, fucking beautiful. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
“Jesus Christ,” 1 muttered, eyes dragging over her before I turned back to the stove. “You trying to kill me?”
Her lips curved slightly. “Figured it was fair.”
“Sit,” I said, voice rougher than I intended. “You need to eat.”
Even as she settled into the chair, picking up her fork and taking her first bite, I couldn’t stop watching her. Because I’d seen her in blood and smoke, shadow and fury. But here? Here she was real, so beautifully real.
Chapter Comments
Heather Sweat
4 days ago
great story so far love the meeting face to face
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Her Obsession.
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.

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