Guilty Pleasure

Sixteen: The storm has just begun

"Give the ones you love
wings to fly,
roots to come back,
and reasons to stay."
~ Dalai Lama

Emily

"You sign here," The nurse used the tip of the pen to point out the place for my signature on a thin line.

With swift movements I scribbled the name 'Prentiss' onto paper. For years I've been attempting to perfect my signature. In my teens, all I did was try to make it look just like my mothers and hell was I rocking it. No wonder. Back then I had gotten into trouble quite a lot. I was rather stupid, I'd might add now, though years ago all I ever wanted was to be accepted. When you are traveling and moving on the daily basis, it's rather complicated to keep and especially make friends. Telling stories and repeating yourself every few weeks or months tends to be annoying and so I got into action. Sometimes I do believe the trouble I had gone through in my teenage years was all worth it now. If trouble came my way in the present, I would find a way to solve it.

"Ready?" Jean's overall joyful simper caught my attention. The wrinkles left and right on her cheeks were barely visible, yet the faint shadow caught my eye. She faked it.

The day I got into the accident, she was acting strangely emotional and clingy —not in a bad way, just awfully unusual for her behavior. It was more as if she was busy with her mind again and worrying about me seemed to add to her exhaustion. Then the golden necklace she gifted to me out of nowhere, with no reason at all.
Whatsoever, she was here for the past two days, watching over me like a hawk or even sleeping in the chair next to my bed. The ways her back had bend could not have been anywhere near healthy. I had tried to send her home every few hours. She insisted to stay with me.

Something was most definitely off and the shallow feeling of her mental health worsening creeped under my skin. All I wanted was for Jean to go on as we used to. I had a feeling something was going on. Something bad was blooming and blowing right into my face soon enough.

Mirrored expression on my face, I slipped my hand into her clammy one and we walked outside the hospital. She rubbed her fingers along mine and I attempted to lighten the mood. "Can't wait to see how my apartment looks like."

Her eyebrow rose and a strand of hair blew right across her face. "You do know all I did was get clothes for you, right?"

"My love. Jean." I squeezed her hand, accentuating the sarcasm in my tone. Meanwhile my other hand embraced the pendant on my necklace, feeling it's heat and the smooth edges on my skin. "We both know how you seem to attract chaos."

"Would you describe a mind blowing intelligent, humorous and most importantly smoking hot brunette in her late thirties as chaos?" She challenged and I wondered how she managed to keep up her usual witty comments, when something clearly was not alright. She loved to keep her perfect act up. It must provide such intense comfort by now, that it was all she knew to do. Jean put on a show and I did not fancy it at all, though if it helped her in the moment I would take it. Hence, the silence on my side, she stuttered a few next words with blush coated cheeks. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

My lips parted and a gasp welled outside, leading my hand to keep the blonde in her tracks in the middle of the parking lots. Much colder wind blew right into my back, exposing her whole face.

"You have done no such thing," I stated, shaking my head in the meantime. The soft smile returned to her lips and I decided to drop the topic. There was no need to bring it up and ruin the chances of a peaceful day, outside the hospital. "Thank you for staying and taking care of me. I do believe these sore muscles deserve a reward." I massaged the flesh on her lower arm, catching a tired grin. "C'mon let's get home."