Two is better than one (molly)

Colin had been through so much in the past few hours that everything came crashing down on him like a pile of bricks. He had no clue how he was to receive what was going through his head. He became dizzy and was entered into a fragile state. There was movement around him. It seemed as though Peace Keepers had found his body laying in the spot where he had fallen to his-presumably-death. Colin had begin to think he was dead, after all who see's only black for that long and only hears one voice. It didn't even strike Colin that the voice was someone he didn't recognize. Colin had wanted to escape this darkness. He wanted to be free of all his troubles and care of the world. He wanted to be like those Victors from previous Games. They get to live a perfect life-well for the most part, unless you count watching kids die before your well knowledgeable eyes. For some time, he wished he had been stuck in the arena. He truly wished he could die in place of someone that had a family, something to live for. But then he began to come to his senses. He had someone to live for. This, of course, wasn't family but it was his girlfriend-the person he wanted to spend every waking minute with. Colin began to hear rustling and movement near his newly found sense as of then, hearing. He could begin to hear things. The blackness still consumed his sight and the rest of his senses were not activated yet but he was hoping they would come soon enough. Colin thought of what exactly theses sounds were, trying to identify them in his storage memory area of his brain, the part where he stored all the things that were important to him, this included sounds.

He wanted to bite his lip in frustration like he always did when he couldn't get something right. He began to get mad at himself. Why couldn't he remember all these sounds, all these things around him. He was blind to the world, blackness covered his eyes, the only scenery he had. There was a vocalizing around him. He could tell that people were publicizing with one another. There began a shuffling noise and he soon was able to identify the inhaling of breath in short, rasped tones along with sniffling that seemed very high pitched. Someone was crying. He began to filter the voice through his brain until it matched up with-what he assumed to be- Laila. This was all very new to him. He tried to probe or research when he had heard her cry before. Nothing came to mind. Colin had not heard this noise come out of Laila ever since they had met. This was new territory for him to proceed on. Of course, he couldn't move and couldn't comfort her in ways she would be happy. He felt a new weight being set upon his back-as if being placed down onto a cold surface- it was a table. This table was cold and rigid, with harsh sides and steep ends. There was always blatant noise where ever he was. Nothing would turn it off. Colin began to get annoyed by only having hearing. He liked, no loved, all of his senses. They worked together in harmony with one another and now that it wasn't happening he began to question his sanity.

Then he willed his eyes to open, and as if on command, the began to lift the cartilage and the hairs, illuminating the room around which stood the person he adored. The harsh light struck him in the cornea, making him blink many times before getting used to the area. That's when his eyes glided around the room. Adorned with pictures and plants and storage areas was the walls. This room seemed very small for something like whatever he was going through. Colin had no words as to what he was having symptoms for. His eyes flashed to someone that looked like-well that looked like an adult that knew what they were dealing with. Colin opened his mouth, about to ask the lady what was wrong with him. But this took too much effort and no words would form on his tongue. If he wanted to speak, that would waste the only energy he had left in him. And he was beginning to like both sight and hearing. They made him feel powerful to have some senses. He wasn't living in complete darkness anymore. His light was next to him. Laila.

She gripped his hand, that was for sure, even though he couldn't feel it. He could see it. The way the fingers wrapped around each other, as if trying to comfort each in its own twisted way. That was what Colin wanted to do with Laila, comfort her in her time of need. That was now and he felt the impulse to grip her into a passionate embrace and warm himself against her. But his body was unresponsive to touch at the moment, any movement-besides his eyes- was nonexistent. She said the words, the words that Colin had wanted to be the first to say. He wanted to be the gentleman and tell them first-it was customary for him to do so. But speech was not on his side in this battle. He wanted to be able to say I Love You back but his lips and larynx was unresponsive. He wanted to tell her everything would be alright, that everything would work out the way they had planned. But he couldn't. How could he when he had no courage in the thoughts himself? How would he be able to say them confidently when the thoughts didn't sound courageously? For a few moments, his eyes became enlarged and his mouth and nose were covered by a smooth cloth. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on the person blocking his airways. His eyes were becoming heavy from lack of oxygen to his brain. This lady holding the cloth to his face was the same that knew what she was doing, or that's what Colin had thought. But soon enough, after struggling for breath, the cloth was roughly removed by the same lady and Colin began to cough. His airway was clear. He tried to make a sound come out of his mouth and it sounded hoarse to his ears and he tried to make the sound stop and soon enough it did. One by one his senses were beginning to come back. But the more senses came back, the more energy began to be drained from his body. He debated whether he liked only having sight and hearing better that those above and speech. But he knew what he had to say before any more of the senses came back. He was compelled to say these words because the moment would be ruined soon enough.