Scarlett came into the room, and stopped at the doorway for a moment, struck by the stillness and, suddenly, by an almost superstitious dread.
Rhett had turned around on his stomach, the white sheets exposing his back and one arm dangling down the side of the bed. The August night was balmy and the crickets were, for once, nothing more than a background symphony vaguely pleasant to her ears. She saw the criss-crossing of scratches on his skin and the bruises which had by now turned an ugly purple. His dark hair shone but his face was turned away and she could not see nothing else of his face but the bulky bandage over his left eye.
Blind fear made her stumble towards the bed to see if he was still breathing. There was a slight ripple of muscles beneath the skin, enough to tell her he was alive, and, even in his drug induced stupor, in pain and uncomfortable. She stretched out a hand, slowly, and laid it on his shoulder to check his temperature. He was burning. She felt the muscles tense up under her touch, as if even that slight movement was disturbing his dreams. She got up, and returned to his side five minutes later with a flask of scented oil in her hand that she had brought from Paris and never used.
She opened it slowly, inhaling the soft floral aroma and would have smiled under any other circumstances at the thought of using something so feminine on Rhett. She had bought it one gentle afternoon in a small store by the Seine years ago on one of their trips, when the French spring air had made her foolish and hopeful, when she still nursed fantasies of making him connect with her somehow. It had sat in her drawer for years and she had never had the courage to even bring it up. Not during the trip, and not later.
She breathed in, and then out. She was past that.
She warmed a fair amount in her hand, and then slowly, cautiously, smoothed her hands over his back and his shoulders. She wouldn't have dared had she had any thought he was awake. She felt the knotted muscles of his shoulders tense under her hands, then relax. In her dreamlike state, she gently moved her hands over his back, his upper harms, and then, hesitatingly, his buttocks and his thighs. She perceived a slight movement and instantly stopped, waiting for him to wake up after all and catch her hands like he had done during the few times in the past years when she had made a shy, awkward attempt to explore his body, but he remained still. Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief.
She became more daring, gently massaging his legs and his feet and then his shoulders, arms and neck for what seemed like hours. She allowed herself to glory in the smooth feel of his skin under her fingers, feeling slightly guilty, knowing she was taking liberties he wouldn't have permitted had he been in the possession of his senses. However, Scarlett had never been one to concern herself with minor ethical inconsistencies. The muscles had relaxed under her fingers and his whole body seemed more peaceful, as if it too was drinking its fill of touch after years of denial by whatever it was Rhett Butler would call it, revenge or self-control, or, simply, emptiness. She didn't know and she didn't care anymore. Sleeping, he was nothing more than a sleek, injured, feverish animal and her hands were soothing.
When she was done, she leaned forwards and pressed her lips against the small of his back, just once, in case this was her last chance, in case he died now or thirty years later never giving her a chance to touch him like this again. She closed the flask, and returned it to its hiding place in her drawer. She then laid down on the sofa across from his bed, drawing the blanket over herself, dark tresses framing her face and making her look like a girl again. She fell asleep almost instantly.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I want to play with the characters and I promise I will give them back when I'm done.
PS: This chapter and some of the following contain minor edits, mostly the moving of information back and forth between the first chapters and future chapters that haven't yet been published. I apologize to those who were confused!