Cigarettes and Valentines

Chapter 18

Allison's POV

It was like I was watching a movie. It wasn't me, sitting by his side when he was being operated.

As expected, it didn't stay with only one time. Michael had to show up every once in a while to get rid of tumors and I wasn't allowed to see him.

Lauren still had no clue about his disease and accordingly I was the only person who'd even show up in the hospital to be there for him. If they would've let me.

Obviously I wasn't a person to break rules but since Michael had literally no one to wait for him when he wakes up, I sure sneaked in from time to time.

I spent a lot of time at Michael's home these days - simply to prepare certain studying stuff for the days when he was allowed to leave the hospital until his next surgery.

We studied hard and long and I was actually really surprised how well he did and also how nice he tried to be towards me. When he once complimented my hair I just couldn't help but burst into laughter.

„Don't be rude, I'm really trying here" he laughed out and threw some papers at me.

„Okay, okay, sorry" I raised my hands in defense. „I mean it's not like you just told me my head smells like apples or something" I joked sarcastically.

Michael grunted. „Alright, I take it back. You smell like shit"

Bending my head, I tried to study his face, inch by inch, remembering I wanted to keep his smile in mind, which he barely showed anyone.

Yes, there still was the chance that he would die, no matter how often Michael talked me out of it. We would be fools to believe there were no risks, especially since Dr. Brown told us so.

After Michael had to leave again, I didn't bother to go home. I stayed at his room, soon picking up one of his guitars as I played some chords my brother once taught me.

The more often I was alone at his room, the more often I was able to play, getting some routine.

One day, I decided to bring one of his guitars to the hospital room, sneaking in as I usually did.

Not expecting he would wake up anytime soon, I started strumming randomly as his red hair suddenly moved.

„Sing..." he muttered, his voice still shaky and raspy from the analgesics he had to take.

Putting the guitar down, I bend forward, to whisper: „I need to stay quiet or they will find out I'm here"

Michael snuggled into the sheets. „Please..." he murmured hardly audible.

I sighed, leaning back in the chair I was sitting in as I started to quietly play the into of Good Riddance.

Another turning point,

a fork stuck in the road

Time grabs you by the wrist,

directs

„YOU!" the all too familiar nurse who once caught me stood right behind me in the door.

She raised her arm wordlessly, pointing at the way outside and I nodded guilty.

Michael whispered a weak „Rebel!" and smiled at me as I walked past his bed towards the door.

________________________  

Deciding to drive home right away, I took his guitar with me.

Studying for my finals with some little breaks of guitar playing and writing in between, I didn't notice how quick the day had passed.