Adonis tenses when he sees him, for whatever reason. I'm not sure in which has happened outside of this hospital rooms walls, maybe they fought?
Zara moves silently and smoothly toward the bed, sitting down with ease. Once he's sat, his hand runs through his hair.
He clears his throat, looking to Adonis then me, then the wall.
"I'm sorry," He starts, his voice cracking.
"For a lot of things. I'm sorry I was ignoring you, I know now that that was a childish attempt and giving you space." His words hit me hard, and I'm consumed with confusion. That was him trying to give me space?
"I'm also sorry I haven't been visiting you since you're now awake. I thought you wouldn't... I thought you wouldn't want to see me." My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Of course I want to see him.
"And, I'm sorry for punching Usok. I know that," He pauses, eyes gliding toward Adonis before landing back to me, "with our mother that was something you developed a hating toward. Violence, I mean."
The mention of our mother has my hands clenching, and my teeth resting against my cheeks, biting them uncomfortably.
"Don't forgive me now, I know you aren't ready to." He clears his throat, eyes glossy.
My own eyes widen, I have never seen Zara cry. Never seen him show any ounce of sadness since meeting him.
Of course I'm ready to forgive him, it's been far too long without speaking to him, seeing him, hugging him.
"But I also came in here to not leave you in the dark." He pauses once more, looking at the wall behind me as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.
His eyes flicker over the wall, different things on it. The instruments used for different things. The IV drip hanging by everything else. Everything, he looked over.
Leave me in the dark? I'm certainly in it now, seeing as I have no idea to what he could be referring to. What's wrong? What's going on?
Every passing second is suffocating me, more and more theories flooding my brain. What is he going to tell me? What's wrong with him? With who? What's going on?
Adonis, seeming to sense my distress, runs his hand along my arm. Soothing, it should be, though it isn't when I feel all the different thoughts and sentences in my head. Like they're walking, no, sprinting around my head.
Each thought bounces on my brain, and when they're done exploring my head they run to my stomach, causing it to churn. I feel the need to vomit, but hold it in. I can't imagine what that would feel like with a feeding tube.
"I have a tumor. It's in my brain, filled with fluid. It's rarely cancerous, but I do need surgery to drain it." He speaks calmly, as if this is the farthest thing from what it is. Scary, terrifying, so so terrifying.
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𝐏𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 | ✍︎︎
Acak"𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝗺𝗽 𝗽𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂." Chaos may be the only way to describe Clailea Del Rosario's 9 years of life. In a nasty divorce, somehow Clailea's druggie mother w...