Had an extreme urge to write that I couldn't shake but was also feeling lazy so here's my lazy writing.
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"Rise and shine, Mr. Readick." Says a cheery voice.
The sun's powerful beams pour in at an alarming rate, leaving no corner of the hospital room untouched. The wrinkly old man, an inevitable victim, opens his beady eyes a crack only to immediately shut them. He throws his arm over them and wearily turns away from the offending intruder.
"Who are you and what are you doing in here?"
"My name is Olivia and I will be attending to your needs until you're discharged."
The old man rises on his elbow and turns his upper body around in his bed.
A short, plump brunette wearing a smile and scrubs stands by the (now) open curtains.
Having put a name to a face, he lies on his back and closes his eyes. "What happened to Bailey? Get Bailey in here, now."
"Um, well Bailey will no longer be attending to you," Uneasiness reverberates from her voice. "But, Mr. Readick, I am positively sure that you will grow to love me. Many patients find me very easy to get along with."
The cheeriness rapidly returns to her as she spews on.
His eyes fly open. Aggravated by the nurse and her noise, he shouts, "Just get out or get Bailey in here,"
Her shoulders jump in fright, her rambling screeches to a stop. The two stare at each other for a beat before Olivia finds her voice again this time with no cheery tone and smile. "M-mr. Readick, Bailey won't be coming back. She's been transferred" She turns to look at the clock resting on the wall above his bed. "It's time to take your morning pill-"
The old man closes his eyes and turns away from her, effectively cutting off the too timid nurse
She walks out of his room, mumbling under her breath. "I'll get Dr. Caviss."
Her shoes squeak against the floor as she makes a hurried escape.
"You could've shut those blinds. Hmph"
Mr. Readick's voice rings out in the empty room-
A young man's mocking voice speaks out. "You wouldn't have to deal with, New Girl, if you hadn't been so mean to your last nurse."
-previously thought empty room.
The old man sits up in his bed, meeting the source of the voice. He exclaims, "You!"
Parked in the chair next to the old man's bed, the young man -eyes fixed on the book lying in his lap- flips a page.
"Yeah. Me." A hint of amusement escapes him. "I come here every day, you should be used to my unexpected visits. You should look forward to my coming."
"Nurse! Nurse!" His shouts fall on deaf ears while the young man laughs aloud. The old man reaches for the nurse call button.
"We both know what'll happen if you use that." Eyes never leaving his book, the young man switches his crossed legs. "Someone in attendance will come, not Olivia, no you frightened the poor thing so severely she won't be coming back today, then when... whoever comes along and hears you rambling about your 'visitor' they will label you as crazy and shoot you up with sleeping meds. If you'd prefer sleeping throughout the entire day only to regain consciousness tonight, again, go on."
The old man's hand hovering over the button slowly, reluctantly retreats to his side. He glares at the young man.
"Get out. Don't you have someone else to bother?"
"That's harsh. Come on, John, we're friends. As friends, we are on a first-name basis, so please, do refer to me as Damon.
The old man glares harshly at him, "Make yourself useful and shut the curtains!"
Facing the old man, Damon's amused grey eyes meet the old man's angry blue eyes. He subtly nods his head, sets his book down on the bedside table, and walks around to the window. He peers out for a moment, eyes squinting against the blinding sun, and slowly closes the curtains. Its beams recede, leaving only the artificial light shining pathetically from the lampstand to brighten the room.
"After getting so much rain and dark clouds, aren't you happy to have the sun out? It's a lot less gloomy now." His eyes flit to the closed curtains. "Was less gloomy."
The old man snorts, "You're one to talk, look at you." He points to the young man's black button-up dress shirt and pants. "You look like you're going to a funeral."
Returning his eyes to the old man, he laughs. He walks back over to the chair as he speaks. "There will be a funeral, don't worry. I highly doubt the poor guy will have anyone in attendance so I decided to dress up and go."
The old man raises a brow in question. "Then shouldn't you be where he is?"
The chair makes a little creak as the young man sits back in it. "It's later on... Now, enough about funerals, today will be my last day visiting you. I want to make the most of our last day." The young man flashes a happy smile, showing off his pearly whites and dimples.
