Smoke And Mirrors

•Twenty-One//3•

"Today it's been two weeks," I look at the flowers on the windowsill that I've been taking care of his whole stay at the hospital, they were wilting, becoming weak and brittle.

I wrap up my arm less than I did last week, just half of my bicep—still my shoulder though.
My wrist is getting better, and less sensitive. I still have to wear that brace.

I have that hand—the one in the brace—resting on top of Jake's, playing with thumb, not wanting to venture near the broken fingers. The stitches on his face and lip were taken out within the past few days, his bruises getting better—more yellow now.

"I hope you remember me when you wake up, or else I'm going to have to put you into another coma just to reverse it."

A gentle tap presses into my palm. I whip my head over to look at his eyes.

Closed.

Just another muscle twitch, the nurse said that was good—meaning his brain is starting to move limbs. It didn't mean much to me because it was the tiniest movement you could ever imagine.

"These days have been more boring than my childhood—and it's hard to beat that." I rub his thumb, "Even though you are all fucked up, you still look handsome."

The heart monitor quickened for three beats before steadying again. Slowly my eyebrows push together.

That has to be a coincidence.

"Can you...hear me Jake?" I wait for some sort of response—there was nothing, not twitch, heart beat, eye flutter or anything.
"That's what I thought."

My face flushes red. I wait for a response, as though he would speak. "Um—" I ponder my words, nervously rubbing my thumb. I felt tears welling in my eyes, not being able to hold it back—I let them fall.

"It's my fault, I'm sorry. I'm so stupid, I shouldn't have let you drive us on a motorcycle in the rain. And it's my fault I didn't force you to wear a helmet" I rub the tears into my cheeks, looking at his motionless state. "I'm so..I'm so mad." I say through my teeth, "I'm so mad at you Jacob Kiszka."

I take a shaky breath and grab his hand— warm but as still as a corpse. I speak through my tears.
"I just don't want to loose you and the way you are so stupidly reckless with your life. And how you make me happy, and how you love me even though I'm stubborn. And I don't want to loose how you make me feel.
Because I love you."

I didn't think I'd cried today—I thought all my tears are gone. I've cried almost everyday since the crash, but this week I hadn't. I've sobbed what was left of my tears and now they have since dried up. Well—until today I suppose.

"I kind of wish I could be sleeping like you right now—I'm so tired." I put my head on the little space on the uncomfortable mattress that his body didn't take up, my hand wrapped around his thumb, the other resting on my thighs.

Within seconds of me laying my head down, my eyelids fell heavy over my irises. My body slumps over, my mind drifting into a much needed sleep.

I flicker open my eyes from the feeling someone poking my arm.

This nurse probably thinks I'm insane for sleeping here during the day...everyday.

I slowly sit up and see an arm reaching over from the opposite side of Jake's body—that stemmed from his shoulder.

My eyes widen as I meet his eyes, dark and brown, open just enough to see. His lids were swollen from the weeks of sleep he had.

"Jake!"

He has no reaction to my yell other than his hand—resting on his lower stomach—curls into a fist softly. His thumb tapping the wrinkles on the side of his coiled fingers—That still held his hand.