He'd walked through a fire and he hadn't got burnt...

“Henry?” I asked tentatively as he perched himself awkwardly on the chair next to the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you hurt?”

He looked up at me, his eyes full of alarm and vulnerability. He breathed in quietly through his nose, and his hands curled up into fists by his side.

“What do you mean?” he said plainly, trying to act casual despite the obvious vein beginning to appear on his forehead.

“You walked into the fire and you’re unscathed,” I looked at him directly, “you haven’t got a single mark on you, you’re not burnt at all, Henry” he closed his eyes and in took his breath deeply.

“I was just… lucky,” his voice was precise and forceful; he opened his eyes sharply and looked straight into mine defensively, as if he was trying to protect himself from something.

“It wasn’t luck, Henry,” I held up my hands, showing him the bandages “look at me, for god’s sake. I have second degree burns and if you hadn’t turned up, I could be dead. You know that just as well as I do, you were in the fire too long not to be injured”

“I was very fortunate,” he looked down at his shoes vaguely.

“Don’t give me that crap,” I snapped, louder than I’d intended; he jumped, startled by my abruptness and looked up immediately. “It’s not just the burns; I nearly suffocated from the smoke, and yet there you are as intact as always. What’s going on? I need to know”

“You don’t need to know anything,” he clamped his hands together in his lap, “there’s nothing to know”

“Do the doctors agree with that? Do they think you’re a miracle, do they think you’re a hero? Well done for saving the damsel in distress, Henry! Have you collected your knighthood yet?” I retorted angrily, I turned my head away from him, facing the ceiling. He didn’t reply for a minute; I counted in my head. It was silent, all I could hear was his breathing; slow and laboured; I could almost hear his thoughts mulling around in his head.

“I’m not a hero,” he stated quietly, almost a whisper. I remained staring at the ceiling stubbornly; but he continued, ignoring my obvious disinterest,

“I didn’t mean to save you,” he admitted; that sparked my vocalisation.

“Then why did you?” I asked crossly, sitting up in bed staring him out, awaiting the justification of his remark.

“that didn’t come out right…” he sat forward in his chair, resting his chin in his hands, “I did want to save you, of course I did, I’m not immoral; believe it or not” I rolled my eyes, “I didn’t even know you were in the building.”

“You didn’t?” I asked; I couldn’t hide my surprise, I felt my eyes widen and my mouth drop open a little.

“No. didn’t you wonder why I was there?” he laughed slightly, “Did you think I’d followed you there?”

“No,” I lied, feeling embarrassed at my presumption.

“I was just passing. I swear” he sounded like he was telling the truth, so I let him continue, giving him the benefit of the doubt, “I saw the fire and I just went in without thinking about it. It was like a reaction, something forced me into the flames, Helena”

“Did it?” I asked mistrustfully.

“You don’t believe me,” he looked dejected, I felt a pang of sympathy, but not enough for me to believe him.

“It’s a far-fetched story; you’ve got to admit that. You’re saying that you just passed a burning building that I happened to be trapped inside and something dragged you in, like an uncontrollable force? That sure is an amazing coincidence,” I laughed, somewhat inappropriately considering the situation.

“It’s true. I just went in. I trawled the whole building endlessly like I was searching for something subconsciously… and then I saw you, and you were just lying there,” he looked down at his shoes again “you know, I thought you were dead at first, but then you opened your eyes and I wouldn’t let you give up on me. I carried you down five flights of stairs, Helena; the flames were nothing to me and neither was the smoke… I suppose it was just the adrenaline… maybe that’s why I was so lucky…”

“Are you just going to keep swamping me with excuses, Henry?” I asked boldly, “are you not going to tell me the truth? Why am Ilying in a hospital bed covered in burns and you’re sitting there entirely unharmed?” I glared at him trying to pull the real reason out of him but he wouldn’t budge; he dropped my gaze uncomfortably…

“Like I said, I’m just very lucky…”

Henry was cut off by the door swinging open and a tall, important-looking man swaggered in. He was wearing a long white jacket so I assumed he was a doctor. He had a grave look on his face and he stared at me intently; my heart skipped a beat with alarm.

“Helena White?” he asked sternly. Before I could reply, he took the clipboard from the end of my bed and flipped through it, “you’ll have to stay in for a few days at least, do you understand?”

“Yes”

“You’re a very lucky girl. It could’ve been a lot worse,” his firm facial expression softened and he looked gentler. I groaned at the word lucky and glanced over at Henry who was looking at the doctor, his eyes wide with interest.

“I hear that it’s down to you?” the doctor looked at Henry with respect, “you rescued Helena, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Henry mumbled softly, clearly embarrassed by the attention.

“Well done, boy. You saved her, she owes you her life. Don’t let her forget it, just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can fail to recall this when she wants to,” the doctor winked at Henry.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Henry said immediately.

“Oh right,” the doctor smiled, “sorry, I just assumed…” he stuttered, “…look after her though” he faced me and the same grave expression appeared on his face, “I’ll come and check on you tomorrow, Helena,” and with that he left the room swiftly and efficiently; he was the stereotype of a doctor; all he needed was a nurse by his side and an American accent and he could’ve fit right into the cast of Grey’s Anatomy.

“I can’t believe he thought you were my girlfriend,” he laughed, as soon as the doctor was gone.

I was offended, was I really that repulsive that he’d despise the thought of me being linked to him?

“Am I really that bad?” I tried to turn it into a joke, but I just sounded like a little girl having a tantrum.

“No, of course not!” he said immediately, “I just meant, isn’t it strange how people assume things?” he looked hurt by the fact that I was offended.

“I thought that you meant I was hideous or something…I’m sorry”

“That’s okay,” he reached out for my hand unexpectedly, it shocked me and I snatched it away impulsively, I don’t know why I did; it was just a reflex. I didn’t let him try and take it again. I sat still in the bed, my hands wedged firmly by my sides, still throbbing with pain despite the painkillers. However, it wasn’t the pain that was so unbearable for me; it was the uncertainty that plagued my mind. I needed answers to so many questions which I knew that Henry would never divulge.

WHY HAD HE ESCAPED THE FIRE SO UNMARKED? I SAW SURE THAT I’D SEEN HIM WALK THROUGH THE FLAMES. I SAW HIM INHALE THE SMOKE LIKE IT WAS OXYGEN, AND I SAW HIM TOUCH THE FIRE LIKE IT WAS SILK. I’D NEVER BEEN MORE CERTAIN OF ANYTHING IN MY LIFE… HE’D WALKED THROUGH A FIRE, AND HE HADN’T GOT BURNT…