Mscopffia

36 | Some hospital time

(Selena's pov)

My dad appeared again in my dream yet this time he isn't in the brick of death and I'm not being held down by anyone with a blurry face I can never understand. He is simply looking at me... dissatisfied or disappointed mostly.

I furrowed my brows and opened my mouth to ask him why he looks like that but he couldn't hear me. He came closer and I felt fear or just a simple shaking, it's not everyday I watch my father this peacefully even if he is sad about something. He gets down on his knees and leans in to me, patting my hand softly. Then he smiles and says. "You know what's right."

"What?..." I can finally speak. But that's because I'm awake.

The interactions I have in my dreams with my father always end up with me crying and waking up by the embrace of my best friend. Although I haven't seen her in long just by talking to her I get better yet today I woke up confused, a question in my head and a dream that made no sense.

On top of that I opened my eyes inside a hospital room and looking at my side, Leonardo is holding my hand now awake and surprised. "Did you have a bad dream, again?" Again?

"How long am I here?" This is where I hear months or years have passed and everyone thinks I'm dead and they have already buried me without burying me really and he knows my real identity and I'm screwed cause he is gone kill me for real now and no one is gone help me escape cause they all think I'm dead.

"A week." Or that.

"A-A week?" That little?. . . Movies surely exaggerate things.

"Yes." He replies.

I nod.

He glances into me and slowly moves his orbs down on my body, analyzing every part of me. Looking at me I can say, I'm not covered in bandages and I feel no pain expect from a small problem with breathing and a little throb at my chest. Like there is a rope knotted in my neck but not a big one which chokes me.

Leonardo looks even worse than me, his hair is messed up probably because he has ran his hand too many times through it. His eyes look tired and a grey shade has appeared on the bottom of his eyes. His lips are a simple thin line out of life and not the beautiful warm rose like always but a worn out brown, he also has a bruise at the corner of his lip the only thing with color on his pale face. Even the clothes he is wearing are the same with the ones he wore—from what I know—a week ago at the race. The race!

What happened?" I ask.

He opens his mouth to speak but he decides not to do so. "How are you feeling?" Like you are avoiding my question.

"I'm fine." I put my hand over my chest. "Just a small breathing problem." I responded.

"Yes," He nodded. "The doctor said you'll go through that for a little while because of all the sm—" He stopped himself.

I arch a brow.

"Nothing. Just rest." He let that go as well.

And I let it go too.

"So... have you been here long?" I change the subject.

"Me?" I can feel the hesitation. "No, I just came." The lie on the tip of his tongue is showing.

"Why are you worm out like that? Smile a little, no death happened." I need to say that to the mirror as well. I haven't been awake yet the nightmares were haunting me and I couldn't wake up.

"I'm always like that." He answered.

"Yeah, gloomy and sad." I chuckle.

He rolls his eyes.