Chapter 144: (Hundred) Forty Three: Ice

This is ridiculous. He couldn't possibly leave her outside there, all alone. His conscience wouldn't take it.

" Okay, how about you let me carry you inside instead," Johnny said and Navaya's brow slung up.

" Carry me?" Skepticism sheathed her tone. 

" Yes, it would be much easier that way. You can't stay out here." 

True but Navaya was too obstinate to even think of relenting. 

" No, thanks. I'm good." She said through gritted teeth. She winced as she touched her ankle, hoping it was just a sprain with nothing major broken. 

She was aware that Johnny was still staring at her, she knew he wouldn't leave until he made sure that she was alright. Just like in the past when things were still okay, when things still made sense. When she wasn't confused by what she felt for him.

He was right though, she couldn't stay out there. Not like this; reeking of alcohol, shoes busted and pain nipping her ankle. Johnny saw it all, witnessed her fall. She had never felt so exposed to him like this before. Then why not just let him carry her inside? What's one more embarrassment added to her long list of events?

" Please, Navaya. Let me help you." His voice was calm, inveigled and he placed a hand on her shoulder as she pondered on the predicament.

It wasn't like it would be the first time he was taking her home or even the first time he would touch her, right? There was nothing special about this time— a voice in her whispered, cajoling her into accepting his offer, to let him help her. Carry her. 

Touch her.

Thinking about it in such a manner, made it harder to reckon. So she stopped. Johnny offering his help doesn't make his deeds redeemable. Just the same way as letting him help her doesn't automatically mean she would forgive him. So she told herself but her heart vetoed. 

Deep down she knew she couldn't forgive him because no matter how hard she tried, she never managed to bring herself to truly despise him for what he did to her. 

She hated herself for that fact.

" Fine." Navaya sighed and drifted her gaze away to stare at the ground, still clenching onto her bag. She tried not to quiver when Johnny's arm met her back, the other behind her knees and with one swift move, he hoisted her off the ground. 

His movements were almost effortless, walking with her in his arms as if she was paper and maybe in a way, she was. She was merely a sheet of paper that was forgettable, replaceable. Perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to shunt all the things they shared in the past and marry another woman. To replace her.

She wished her skin crawled when he carried her, to be repulsed by his touch, at least then she would be convinced that she no longer held onto any strings of hope, to be sure that her heart no longer entertained absurd ideas about Johnny and his place in her life. But just like every other wish she had made in her life, this one wasn't granted as well. Her skin didn't crawl at his touch, she wasn't disgusted by his presence. She couldn't hate him.

Her body, treacherous as always, melted in his arms— on him— like butter and he was the heat. He was her heat.

" Where are your keys?" Johnny asked as he got to her front door, breaking Navaya's stupor into smatterings. She blinked at him, not quite catching what he said. " Your keys"

Johnny had to repeat before her brain clicked. She scavenged through her bag, searching every nook and cranny until she found it laying amid her lipstick, ATM card, and cellphone. She slipped the keys into his hand that was steady underneath her and he unlocked the door, his grip on her gentle yet firm.

He used his foot to shut the door right after he stepped in. Standing on the vestibule rug, he surveyed the place in utter confusion. He had been there once before but for some reason now, he couldn't remember his way around the place.

Which room was which?

" The last room, down the hall," Navaya said, reading through his confusion. His lips slanted as he walked on the linoleum, heading straight for the staircase but paused once he climbed the first step, and this time it was Navaya who stared in confusion.

" Can you point me to your fridge?" Johnny asked and Navaya's confusion morphed into dubiety but she didn't refuse his request. Slowly, she lifted her finger and pointed in the direction of her fridge. 

He veered towards the fridge and without setting Navaya down for a second, took out an ice cube tray from the freezer then continued the trek to her bedroom.

" What are you going to do with that?" She asked, referring to the ice. He creaked open her bedroom door and went from standing behind the threshold to the side of her bed in seconds.

" For your ankle." He drooped her gently on the sheets. " To ease the pain and swelling."

Ankle? Swelling? Somehow between accepting Johnny's help and letting him carry her, Navaya momentarily forgot she sprained her ankle. She didn't feel pain.

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She forgot the pain… and that too in Johnny's arms.

Then again, it could still be the alcohol messing with her reasoning, with her body. Not Johnny. Never him. Or perhaps she was going insane. That seemed like a more realistic explanation for all this.

But now that he mentioned her ankle, the discomfort returned, spearing through her. She winced as her legs hit the bed.

Forehead crinkled in pain, Navaya watched Johnny salvage a piece of cloth from one of her drawers— with her permission of course.

He poured the ice into the cloth, tied it up to form a pouch. An ice pack, the same one he was walking towards her with. Navaya's eyes bulged as her gaze went from his face to the ice pouch and back until he sat at the edge of the bed, making sure that there was a reasonable amount of space between them so she wouldn't feel cramped.

This was her house, her bedroom and after trusting him with her body, letting him into her house, the last thing he wanted was for her to assume he was abusing her trust.

" Can I see your hurting ankle?" Johnny asked and Navaya eyed the ice pack in his hand. " It won't hurt." He said, noticing her hesitation.

It won't hurt? Navaya repeated in her head, more skepticism in play. How could he say it won't hurt when she could practically feel the chilly torment awaiting her just by having that ice pack near her.

A drop of water leaked from underneath the pouch, plopping down on the sheets.

" Just let me press this on your ankle really quick. Look, it's melting already."

Melting was right. The thought of having that cold weapon on her ankle, was slowly melting all the pillars of reason she had left.

More drops plopped onto the sheets as Navaya kept stalling the inevitable. For the first three minutes of her fear-induced escapade, Johnny indulged her, waited for her. He didn't want to force her if she didn't wish to but if she doesn't get her ankle iced, it was going to swell. And if it swells, the pain would make her despise walking tomorrow.

" Fine, I won't do it anymore." He handed her the pouch. " You can do it yourself."

Navaya stared at the chilly cloth in her hand then at him, lips transcending into a pout. Fear wouldn't even let her do it herself.

" Okay. Okay. Please help me with this." Since clearly, you seem like an expert. 

She left the last part unsaid.

Her words goaded a smile on Johnny's lips, his heart skipping beats. He took back the pouch and Navaya instantly squeezed her eyes shut as he took off her shoes and held it against her ankle.

" Let me know if I'm using too much pressure. " He gazed at her face; eyes sealed shut, lips thinned, and numerous wrinkles on her forehead as she waited for the frigid terror to lance through her. " If you feel it's too much for you, smack me. Just like you've always wanted to do lately." 

With his voice laced with unfathomable admiration, Johnny couldn't help sounding bewitched. Navaya didn't speak, nodding in response and Johnny took it as his cue to begin. The cold met her skin in a light touch and she flinched.

" I haven't even done anything yet." Johnny chuckled.

She opened one eye to peep at the torture device in his hand. " The vapor."

" What vapor?"

" It's cold." Navaya wavered and Johnny's smile bloomed.

" It's ice. It's supposed to be cold. Close your eyes and relax, it will be over before you know it." 

He was right, she should relax. It's just cold, nothing major. It couldn't hurt as much as her ankle does now, right?

She inhaled a deep breath, easing her tension and Johnny proceeded to press the pouch on her ankle.

Five seconds after he did, Navaya landed the first smack.

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