Marta stands with her back to the wall and her shoulder pressed to the side of the window watching. Her eyes, hampered by the dirty glass, dart about the ally like street below and she is watching children far too young drinking, smoking and carrying-on. They do not register to her she is watching for something else.
A moan from the bed draws her gaze and then she is watching the man shudder with a chill that should be impossible in the muggy heat of the cheap room. He mutters but she cannot make out the words instead she watches as he turns onto his belly and snuggles down. He is drenched in sweat and his skin shimmers with the refraction of the streetlights creating patterns over his muscled back and shoulder. While she watches a droplet slips along his cheek, tear-like, as it escapes his lashes.
Watching it fall she is transported someplace else just hours earlier; because as slowly as it seems to tick by, time is still passing. They are in a concrete room and the cheap bastards couldn't even fork over enough money to air condition the factory so they have both stripped down to t-shirt or tank-top. In her mind's eye she is watching a man as he comforts and strengthens her; giving her the courage to press the needle into his flesh, pierce his vein to infect.
Incredibly, the flare of the sun over the dilapidated buildings draws her eyes. She is caught by surprise as she stands watching a beautiful sunrise. Aaron, not a number, has tossed and turned all night with her watching.
Marta straightens away from the wall and moves to study the now empty street. She is watching the world spin by outside; afraid they will come and take them by surprise.
Over her shoulder she is watching the man haunted and hunted fight for his life in a way that cannot be taught. She is afraid she might be watching him die. Hearing his garbled speech Marta comes to a decision…No More!
No more watching the outside world like it is an interesting experiment. No more watching her life fall apart. No watching him suffer untended…NO MORE. Gathering his things she looks for and finds the loose stash of cash and is glad she did not need to touch what is hidden in his jacket. Penning a rustic note she props it where he will be sure to see it. He watched out for her and she will do the same for him.
She is quiet as she leaves for an apothecary and her eyes dart over the bed as he turns onto his back. She whispers, "I'll be back soon," and closes the door behind her. She won't be watching him die today.