Chapter 1 When Your Skin Burns, So Does Mine

# Chapter 1: When Your Skin Burns, So Does Mine

Rain hammered against my umbrella as I hurried along the corridor to my apartment building. The roses in my arms—deep crimson with edges tinged gold—were the only splash of color in this gray morning. I'd spent too long at the flower market, debating between peonies and these beauties. My fingers traced the velvet petals, already planning the arrangement for my client's anniversary.

Thunder cracked overhead. I quickened my pace, the concrete steps of my building slick with rain. Three more steps to the entrance. Two more—

A deafening crack split the air. I looked up just as the rooftop eave, struck by lightning, broke free and plummeted toward me. My body froze, though my mind screamed to move. I clutched the roses to my chest, as if they could shield me from falling debris.

Something solid slammed into me from the side. Not debris—a person. We tumbled together as chunks of concrete and metal crashed where I'd been standing. The roses scattered, petals torn and floating in puddles like tiny boats.

"Are you okay?" The voice was deep, breathless.

I looked up to find myself pinned beneath a mud-covered man with rain-darkened hair and intense eyes. Before I could answer, a severed electrical wire whipped down from the damaged eave, striking us both in a blinding flash.

Pain. Then darkness.

---

Beeping machines greeted me when consciousness returned. Hospital. The antiseptic smell and fluorescent lighting were unmistakable. My head throbbed as I blinked away the fog.

"The patient is awake," a nurse announced.

My throat felt like sandpaper. "Water," I croaked.

As she helped me drink, I noticed another bed beside mine. The mud-covered man lay there, still unconscious, connected to the same machine as me—something labeled "SynSens Neural Regulation Device." A doctor hovered between us, adjusting settings.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You were both struck by a high voltage current. This is Bram," she nodded toward my unconscious neighbor. "Security guard at your building. He pushed you away from the falling debris."

My savior had a name now. Bram. His face was cleaned of mud, revealing strong features softened by dark lashes against pale skin.

"The SynSens is stabilizing your neural pathways," the doctor continued. "You'll both be fine after monitoring."

I drifted in and out of sleep, dreams mixing with reality. At one point, I could have sworn I tasted bitter coffee, though I hadn't drunk any.

Hours later, Bram stirred. I watched as his eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to recognition as he spotted me.

"You're okay," he said, relief evident in his voice.

I nodded. "Thanks to you."

Then something strange happened. I took a breath and tasted... coffee. And sweat. My nose wrinkled involuntarily.

"I'm Calla," I said, trying to ignore the phantom taste.

"Bram," he replied, then frowned, sniffing the air. "Is that... orange detergent?"

My laundry detergent. How could he smell it from there?

The doctor returned, checking our vitals. As she leaned over me, Bram suddenly scratched his head. At the exact same moment, an intense itch bloomed across my scalp.

"Doctor," I called, alarmed. "Something's wrong."

The nurse offered me a lemon tart from the meal tray. I took a small bite, and across the room, Bram's face contorted.

"God, that's sour," he exclaimed, though he'd eaten nothing.

Fear crept up my spine as understanding dawned. When the doctor returned, we bombarded her with questions.

"You were both under the SynSens Neural Regulator," she explained, too calmly for my liking. "The dual-patient isolation module wasn't properly activated. Your sensory pathways synchronized while you were unconscious."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Bram demanded.

"You're experiencing each other's sensations. Taste, smell, touch..."

"How do we fix this?" I interrupted.

"SynSens sharing typically lasts 72 hours maximum," she said, reviewing her tablet. "We can't terminate it early without risking permanent sensory misalignment."

Bram laughed, a deep rumble that oddly echoed in my own chest. "You're joking."

I felt his disbelief as if it were my own.

The doctor wasn't joking.

---

Outside the hospital, we exchanged phone numbers, both shell-shocked by our new reality.

"Seventy-two hours," I said. "We just need to get through three days."

"Right. We'll go our separate ways and—"

A shout interrupted us. "Heads up!"

A basketball hurtled toward me from the hospital courtyard. Before I could react, Bram lunged forward, shielding me. The ball struck his chest with a dull thud.

I gasped, clutching my own chest as phantom pain bloomed there. But that wasn't what terrified me.

In that moment, as he stood protectively before me, my heart raced wildly. Except... it wasn't just my heart. I felt his too—pounding with adrenaline, fear, and something else.

Something that felt dangerously like attraction.


Similar Recommendations