A Foreign Love Song (Jake Bateman x Johnnie Guilbert)

4: Johnnie

"Thank you," I told Jake while we walked out of the hospital. He continued to look at the nasty-looking stitches on my hand. It looked brown and rotten now. Maybe I really should've got these earlier. 

(A/n: not technically accurate, a hospital would bandage the wound if it was this bad.)

"You're welcome." He glanced at the stitches and snapped his head away as though it were a crime to notice them. 

"Stop staring. My poor palm feels naked."

"It is." He looked again. 

I looked at him strangely. "The fact that knowing that makes you stare more is weird."

His eyes grew wide and he snapped his head away immediately. "You're right. Sorry about that. You can't drive, can you?" He cringed. "God, I hate the public transportation system."

I frowned, feeling bad that I was really making him go out of his way. "I-I guess you could stay over. If you want," I invited him. 

Jake paused, perhaps not knowing how to answer. I didn't blame him, it was the most reluctant invitation I'd ever heard. Great going, Johnnie. Let's tell the guy you like that you don't want him around, that'll really show him. "Okay," He agreed finally. His enthusiasm was lacking, but that was probably my fault. 

A shooting pain suddenly filled my palm, then my whole body. I guess the numbing shots wore off then. "A-- fuck!" I shouted, grabbing my hand. Unfortunately, this pressure only made the pain even worse. 

"Oh, God! What do you need?!" Jake asked as I fell to my knees. He followed me, shrinking down. 

"Painkillers. A sleep aid. A really strong one."

He nodded aggressively. "Alright, alright. Come on!" He grabbed my good hand and pulled me to the car as quickly as he could. I was in the seat, writhing in pain. It was so bad that my vision was practically going white. The car started and Jake drove anxiously again. I couldn't really see it, but I could feel it in the movements of the car. It stopped abruptly somewhere. I heard the parking brake engage. I realized then that my eyes had been closed. I opened them and watched silently as Jake opened the car door and raced into CVS. 

"Please hurry," I whispered, voice strained with pain. I watched for him for what felt like an eternity. When he came back, he was already opening the bottle of aspirin. He opened the car door and handed me a few. He'd also purchased a water bottle, which I was grateful for. He handed me that as well, already opened. He held it while I put the pills into my mouth, and then I grabbed it and drank it down, pills falling with it. 

"It'll take probably a half an hour to work," He explained. He also held a bottle of Nyquil. "And I'll give you this when we get to your place. I really don't wanna carry you."

I nodded, looking at my hand. I felt sickened by the sight of it. I was honestly better off before I got the stitches. 

When I woke up the following morning, I had no idea what time it was. I just know that I'd never slept like that before. Maybe I shouldn't have drank that sleep aid... I got out of bed and walked out of my room, mostly to get myself ready in the bathroom. In that moment, I remembered my hand, which actually didn't hurt as badly today. It still looked nasty, but it didn't hurt. "Morning," a voice called to me. I jumped, not recalling that anyone had stayed over. "Didn't mean to scare ya," Jake laughed. 

I put my hand to my chest as though it would steady my pounding heart. "I forgot you were here, honestly."

"It's alright. You pretty much passed out within minutes of drinking that stuff. Really powerful, you know." He gestured to my stitches. "How's your hand?"

"Better, thanks," I sighed. What exactly was I expecting to happen? I don't take anything fast, and Jake can't read minds to force me into the situation. 

"Good, I didn't want to take you back to a doctor or something." He gestured to the window, or rather outside. "I looked at a bus schedule, and there's one leaving soon. So....I'm gonna leave you now. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

I crossed my arms. If I lied, would that be so bad? "Oh, sure. I'll be fine," I told him. "You go catch that bus."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me to stay," He said. "I don't have to leave if you really don't want me to."

"I don't!" I confessed, though it came out sounding really desperate. "I love your company, and I'm so lonely! Please don't leave."

Jake looked like he was trying not to laugh. "I've been waiting for four years to hear you say that."