mayaalliot:
She lingered beside the bed for a long moment debating whether or not she should sit on the bed. The chair across the room seemed just as fitting but Maya fought her worries and lowered herself down. As he started to apologize Maya shook her head silently urging him to stop.
“You owe me no apology, I promise. I’m just glad you’re awake.” A small smile pulling on her lips as he introduced himself. “I can defintely confirm for you that what they are saying is true. I’m Maya.”
She probably should have spoke to Laurent before coming here to ask him how they wanted to play this. Did he want her to slowly introduce Theo to the life he once knew or did he want them to let him start over?
To have the life that none of them had been afforded.
Maya Alliot looked towards the window. Outside rain was falling and she focused on that for a few minutes before turning her attention back towards him.
“If you don’t mind me asking what do you remember? Do you recall anything at all?”
Maya.
The name rang in his ears, and he felt as if something were pushing against that drawn veil in his head that was keeping him from knowing who the woman was that sat across from him, from knowing why he was here, and from knowing himself. And yet, as quickly as it had come, the pressure faded, leaving him nothing but frustration and resentment to whoever had put him in this predicament. He’d been told when he awoke that he’d been the victim of a vicious mugging, and so far the nurses said the police didn’t have any leads- and with his lack memory, he wasn’t much help. His focus turned back to the woman before him, how she seemed almost guarded, as if she were afraid to say the wrong thing, or not sure of who he was. Was he a different person, without his memories? Did the memories truly make the man? Or would his subconscious remember whatever experiences he had, and therefore he was still shaped by his past life? He sighed, remembering the nurses telling him not to worry about it too much, as it would only aggravate him. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and with a somewhat forced smile, the Frenchman shook his head. “I remember nothing.” That wasn’t entirely true. He knew by looking at the Cafeteria’s stuffed mushrooms that he wouldn’t like them. He knew he preferred the rain to the sun, preferred sunsets to sunrises. But as for useful information he was, essentially, useless. “I’ve not got a clue who I am, nor why I’m here, or where I come from. The doctor says it should come back to me eventually, but he can’t say how long it’ll be before I’m completely whole again.”
It felt strange, sharing his frustrations with someone he didn’t know. She felt like a stranger to him, yet as if they’d met a long, long time ago. Like a primary school mate’s name that he couldn’t recall, her identity was elusive to him, on the tip of his tongue. But it might as well have been a million miles away. “So how do we know each other, Maya?” he asked with a small smile, scooting further up in his bed to give her more room to get comfortable. “Are we friends? Co-workers? Family?” He hoped not the latter. “You’re the first person to visit me, which must mean you’re someone important.”
