Skips A Beat ::Wattys2016::

Chapter 17

A/N: for anybody that doesn't really know how to read blood pressure... if it says (for example) 123/72, you would read it one-twenty-three over seventy-two, or one hundred twenty three depending on your preference. Okay, sorry if that was obnoxious.

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"You're blood pressure is 140/90." Joy says, sighing lightly. "You know what that means..."

"Heart attack risk." Michael mutters. Joy nods.

"That means you better stay in this bed, and stay away from the soda!" She grabs the bottle from Mikey's bedside table. "Michael, you know that you have to stay away from caffeine."

"I know, but-."

"No buts young man." Joy tsks, writing down the new stats on Michael. Michael pouts from his bed. "I'll be back to check in at 9." Michael groans, messing with his pillow before laying down again.

"This is bullshit!" He shouts. I move from my window seat.

"It's not bull-."

"Totally bullshit. If I want to get up, I can get up. I'll run three miles if I want. Just try and stop me." Michael moves to get up, but I push him down.

"Michael, you-"

"Let go, Luke. I want to take a walk."

"Only because she said you can't." I say, keeping him pinned to the bed.

"That's exactly why!" Michael huffs. "I feel like I'm a fucking waste of air. They keep giving me restrictions, and I'm not allowed to go on another floor unless a nurse is with me. It's fucking bullshit."

"It's only been two weeks, Mikey." I try to reason, but it only makes him angrier.

"I want to do things, Luke!" He shouts.

"Kitten, calm down. You're going to be in the 150s if you don't-."

"I don't care!" He snaps at me. I feel my eyes sting as tears begin to form. I bite my lip to keep from crying.

"You don't have to yell at me when I'm helping you, Michael." I say calmly. He scoffs.

"Oh, thanks for your help. Doing a great fucking job." He rolls his eyes, pushing me off of him, and getting up. His hand travels to his temple, rubbing. He storms out of the room, me following behind. "This is inhumane!" He shouts throughout the hall.

"Michael Gordon! Stop it!"

"Inhumane!"

"Mr. Clifford, you need to be in bed."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Michael, please." I plead. I cover my face with my hands as two male nurses escort him back to his room. I can't believe he's really making a scene out of nothing. He really just needs to sit down for an hour, and calm down. That's not too restricting. We sit in the room for a moment before I open my big mouth.

"You should have just listened, because they're going to watch you like hawks now." I fold my arms across my chest.

"I really don't want to hear it, Luke."

"Well, it's true." I huff.

"I said that I don't want to hear it, Lucas. So shut the hell up!" He shouts at me, pushing me off of the bed. I stand there, shocked that he made me move. "I don't even want you here, so just fucking leave." He says, rolling to face away from me. Ouch.

"O-okay." I say softly, nodding my head. Maybe this is just one of those pain things. The one where he's hurting, and then takes it out on me. "I love you." No reply.