1.1 | daunting medleys

twelve | guilt

Oliver had never been this scared. Never. So the sight of Tabitha's lashes fluttering shut shouldn't have terrified him the way it did, yet he bolted out of his seat before her forehead could bump against the table. He was too late, her forehead had landed ungraciously on the table, shocking both him and Mildred. The noise seemed to reverberate around his ears till he felt his ears would bleed from the frightening sound.

His chest heaved, hard, before swallowing and letting out in a shaky whisper. "Tabitha?" But the lack of response seemed to urge his panic.

He grabbed her wrists to check her pulse, and felt the blood rush out of his face as Oliver counted more than 100 beats in less than 45 seconds. It was strange, and he didn't know what to do. He lifted her head up with trembling fingers, his ears blocked from the sound of his heart beating so fast.

Mildred let out a yell when she saw the blood on Tabitha's head, one that attracted the attention of the other people in the restaurant. It might have been a call for help but Oliver didn't stay to hear it as he dashed out, a very pale Tabitha in his arms to a place where he knew Tabitha would be treated.

**********

The silence was almost deafening. The continuous journey of the liquid in the IV bag to Tabitha's arm seemed to take most of Oliver's attention, since she hadn't eaten anything before passing out. The white of the hospital walls seemed to lull him to sleep. Oliver had found himself here again after school - since it had atleast been a day since she fainted, he wandered here, perhaps to sneak a glance at Tabitha.

The girl was unmoving, her features still like she was caught in a painting. She looked peaceful, serenity oozed from every pore on her and Oliver wanted to know - more than anything - what she was hiding, he wanted to know what caused her push her brows until her face was the definition of stress, and for more than anything he wanted her smile.

"You know, staring at her won't help her wake up. I mean, I know she is beautiful son but you will creep her out if she does wake up now." His mother interjected his thoughts, her white coat bringing the scent of disinfectant and lavender - the odd yet comforting smell she carried with her.

"Mum." He groaned, lifting his eyes to meet his mother. As usual, Oliver knew he looked nothing like her. Instead, he looked like the father that he didn't know. The perfect reminder of pain for his mother, sometimes Oliver wondered how she could stand to look at him and smile, knowing he was the mirror image of the person that ruined her life.

Under the fluorescent lights, her freckles and bright blue eyes seemed to shine even more. The guilt prickled at his skin, so he turned back to Tabitha and focused on the band-aid on her forehead. The tiny heart glared at him, seemingly beating before his reddened eyes. Oliver usually didn't see her. She worked long hours at the hospital so the guilt didn't eat him alive, except the rare occasion like this. He loved his mother and the odd moments when he wasn't reminded of his face resembling his father's.

"Ollie."

He stood up abruptly. So he'd stop her. "I'm going to see if her parents are coming back. Her heart rate spiked up and her finger twitched." All of which were lies because he couldn't bare to look at her.

"I wish you will heal. From the bitterness," She whispered, her voice - already laden with sadness - obstructed by the words that slipped out. He smiled bitterly, then opened the door before pausing to sneak a glance at Tabitha, committing her conciliatory expression to memory.

"From the guilt. Because it's not your fault that you look like him." Then he left. Oliver and his mother had this conversation every other week, he hadn't realized it but with every passing day, he knew that he had started to look like his sperm donor and he hated himself for that. Maybe that's why he was drawn to Tabitha. Because he had noticed the same lost, conflicted look in her eyes and it didn't scare him, until he noticed how ugly and imposing it was - how it didn't belong in her chocolate tinted eyes.

**********

Tabitha woke up with a startle. The unfamiliar surroundings with the pristine walls and the drip connected to her told her that she was in the hospital, yet the last thing she could remember was the glint of the sun against Oliver's warm brown skin.

"Hi hun," A very beautiful yet unfamiliar woman in a lab coat interrupted her thoughts. "I'm Doctor Sanders, and you must be Tabitha." Her eyes glinted sharply, even though they looked undeniably sad. It made Tabitha frown, because she didn't like seeing others sad.

"Hello. May I please know how long I've been unconscious?" She said lowly, after she'd gulped down the water that beautiful lady had offered to her.

"Atleast a day. You've been very stressed, young lady."

Tabitha scrutinized the woman and her wispy curls. "There's been a lot going on, but how did I get here? I don't remember anything about-"

"I brought you here after you fainted at the diner." Oliver interrupted, breezing into the room with Talia and her parents. Talia rushed to Tabitha's side, looking over Tabitha's skin with a frantic concentration. Her eyes - although reddened - dimmed when she saw the bandage on her forehead.

Her father walked to her side, patting her head softly with relief evident on his face. "I was so worried when we couldn't get through to you, I'm just glad you're okay." He whispered tenderly, causing Tabitha to blink furiously - hoping no one would see the tears forming in her eyes.

Her mother began, no ounce of warmth on her face. "Haven't you been taking your medication? How could you be so careless as to let this happen? Do you know how worried I was when we weren't getting through to you? I'm very disappointed-"

Dr Saunders cut in impassively. "I'm sorry, Miss Daniels but your daughter passing out isn't her fault. She has been undeniably stressed about many things and it's taking a toll on her." Tabitha was shaking, perhaps it was due to the fact that the windows were open or maybe it was due to her mother's cold demeanor that increased as the doctor berated her.

"What does she have to be stressed about? She is but a child. She has nothing to be worried or stressed about." Her mother snorted, before continuing like Tabitha wasn't even there. Her hands clenched around the blanket that had covered her legs. "She only fainted because she has congenital heart disease."