Who Knew?

Chapter 30:

POV- Wyatt 

I wake up to a hand shaking my shoulder. I turn my head in my arms to see my mother's warm smile as she strokes the hair out of my eyes. "Morning sweet pea. I just wanted to warn you that I'm heading down to the cafeteria, and was wondering if you wanted to come with."

I sit up and stretch back, wincing as the stiff muscles pull. I shake my head at mom. "I'm okay. Not really hungry."

She nods. "Alright. Just remember you need to eat to survive."

I smirk and wave as she leaves. I look back at Ruben lying on the bed. Last time the nurse came in, she said he should be waking up soon. He looks different like this. He usually has some sort of a guard up, at least around people who aren't me. But now, even with random people coming in and out to check his vitals, he looks almost too peaceful. I have to say, I'm not the biggest fan. 

I run my thumb over the knuckles on his hand, taking in his features. I miss seeing him smile and hearing his laugh. I miss him. 

I'm getting antsy. I've gotta do something before I go crazy just sitting here. Across the room, I glimpse the bags that Kevin brought in from my car yesterday. I give Ruben's hand a squeeze, as if telling him I'll be right back, and walk towards the bags. Inside the backpack are necessities, including a handful of books. Looking through them, I find the collection of Yeats poems that we had been flipping through a couple of weeks ago. 

One of the pages is dog-eared, so I flip it open. My gaze lands on the first poem on the page. I smile when I see that it's the poem that reminded him of me and our relationship. I go back to the chair at his bedside and clear my throat. "This is cheesy as fuck, but Imma do it anyway." I look down at the book in my hands, and begin to read allowed. 

" 'All things uncomely and broken, all things worn and old,

The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,

The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,

Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.' 

'The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told;

I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,"

I'm startled when another voice joins mine for the remainder of the verse. 

"With the earth and the sky and the water, remade, like a casket of gold

For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.' " 

I look up and my gaze meets his. I focus on the eye that he can open, because I've never been so happy to see someone open their eyes before. A small smirk dances at the corner of his mouth. "Hi," he whispers. 

I scrunch my nose up to stop the tears welling in my eyes. "Hi. How's it goin'?"

Ruben's face breaks into a grin. "I've been better."

Nodding, I bring his hand up to my face, and press a gentle kiss on the soft skin. His fingers twitch up to caress my cheek. "You look like shit, Walker." I squeeze his hand softly.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Still stunning as ever though, am I right?"

I huff a quiet laugh, and he wipes away a tear I didn't know had fallen. Stipid fucking tear ducts. Can't give me a break. 

He pulls his hand away from mine, only to wrap it in the fabric of my shirt, tugging me closer. I obliged, leaning forward and pressing a feather light kiss to his lips, my hands falling on either side of his hips to keep my balance. I pull away slightly. "You're right. Sexy even in a hospital bed."