The Unexplainable You.

Part Twelve. Portland.

The moonlight gives his skin a pale glint as he processes my reply. Between his oxygen tube, feeding tube, wheelchair and his multiple braces strapped on his body, he looks like a ghost.

"very poetic," He laughs, running his hand through his hair. "I can see why you write music."

I bite my lip, smiling at him. "I never told you I write music."

He grins back at me, a foolish glint in his eyes. "You didn't have to. I could tell."

I blush, looking at my feel, AKA the most cliche thing to look at when you're uncomfortable. He's gonna know.

"We should probably get back," I say, standing up from my spot on the ground. "I don't know about you, but I sure don't want to get caught kidnapping a patient."

He grins, pulling his arms tighter around himself. "Fine, but I'll make sure that you will get convicted for child theft."

I smile, pushing him away from the lake and up the path.

"How long have you been here? At the hospital, I mean." I ask him as we walk up the street. 

He smiles wistfully, staring off down the street. I can't take my eyes off of him.

"I don't remember at this point. A year or two maybe?"

I close my eyes, trying to imagine never being able to go home. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying he'll never go home, but how he talks about it makes me think he won't. 

*Concerned groaning.*

Finally, we make it to the hospital entrance. The lobby bustling with people. Perfect for a smooth entrance. 

We both simultaneously pull our hoods over our heads as we pass through the entrance, pushing past a few waiting pedestrians to one of the doors.

 After an extensive map of the floorplan for our daring escape, I figured out that the door off to the left of the ER leads to the nurses lounge. I made sure that all of the nurses that would be in the break room at the time were ones I had already talked to about this spontanious adventure. 

Who's the best not girlfriend?

 *Awkward finger guns*

Tate and Jennifer glance up at us as we walk in, both grinning cheesily. I can almost see Ashers muscles tense under their sight, but he quickly realizes that they're on our side. Good.

I push him through the door to an empty hall. His empty hall.

"This has been really nice." He tells me when we get to his room. I nod, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot in front of him.

There should be a manual to friendzoned relationships

"You look really tired." I quickly blurt out before I can stop myself.

Rule number one: Don't tell your friend they look exhausted. That's a recipe for disaster.

"Yeah," He replies tiredly, "I probably should get some sleep, I have some tests to do tomorrow."

I bite my lip, nodding slowly. "Yeah, great, okay. Sleep good then."

He smiles, reaching out and grabbing my hand. His grip is cold and clammy against mine, and I resist the urge to pull away.

"Thank you Portland." He tells me, his eyes never leaving mine, his deep ocean eyes. "dying is scary, you make it a bit more bearable."