Sophia let her eyes follow him. “You like him.” Her brain said suddenly. “You want him to be near you and touch you.” She closed her eyes. She did not know what to say to him. She knew how awkward she had made the last day. She knew that he had every right to be angry with her. She wondered if he was. She wanted him to come back and sit by her bed. Why hadn’t he stayed near her?
Cameron moved around the room. Inside he was regretting the last day. He should have realized sooner that it was her. He should have helped her sooner as well. He should have tried to say more to her. But Cameron knew it was not his fault. And after seeing Sophia’s leg stabbed in a dream, he realized it could not be her fault either. Now that she was better, he was cleaning up the last few hours, taking empty containers and other items and putting them away. He did as much as possible and finally walked back to her bedside with some water.
“If you can drink water now.” He said holding out the water. “I can take your catheter out. Though you will have to be able to take capsule antibiotics.” The water was still in his hand.
Sophia was feeling strange. He had come back and was talking to her. She watched his lips and eyes, not listening to what he was saying. She was not feeling any worse. She was feeling warm and full of love and thankfulness. She saw the water and knew he wanted her to drink. She reached out for it with her left hand and purposefully brushed her hand against his while looking upwards at him wide-eyed.
Cameron gazed back. Up to this point, the only emotions he had gotten from Sophia, or Sam as she had called herself when she first fell through his window, was fear. Even when he had seen her at the store, she always seemed startled by him and avoided walking near him as much as possible.
This was the first time Sophia had looked at him in this way. Cameron did not understand. What did it mean? He almost jumped when she brushed his hand with hers. She had not shown an adverse reaction to the contact between them. The water bottle was low enough for Sophia to take without touching his hand. He had been holding it near the top of the bottle too. She was lying on the bed. She should have grabbed it around the bottom.
“Thank you.” She murmured in as sweet of a voice as she could muster. Her voice was weak, but the words were clear. Sophia smiled at him after saying it, her eyes still wide, maintaining contact.
He sat down in the chair by her bed. He was feeling strange, with Sophia behaving so differently towards him. He was not sure, but it felt like she liked him. She felt better towards him and grateful, judging by the thank you. But it seemed to go deeper than that.
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