forever | timothee chalamet

25

Mias pov:

As I settled into the examination room, the sterile white surroundings emphasized the contrast between the clinical space and the chaotic events that had led me here. The doctor, a composed woman with an air of empathy, entered the room.

"Good evening. I'm Dr. Rodriguez. What seems to be the issue today?" she inquired, her tone gentle.

I took a deep breath, deciding honesty was the best approach. "Well, I kind of punched a guy earlier out of frustration, and now my hand is killing me."

Dr. Rodriguez raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and concern in her eyes. "I see. Can you tell me what happened?"

I recounted the events, from the confrontation with Timothee to the unexpected encounter in the hospital waiting room. The doctor listened attentively, her expression a blend of understanding and professional composure.

"Alright, let's take a look at that hand," she said, guiding me to the examination table.

As I sat down, Dr. Rodriguez examined my hand, asking questions about the intensity of the pain and any specific areas of discomfort. When I mentioned the punch, she nodded with a hint of understanding.

"Anger can sometimes lead to impulsive actions. It's important to find healthier ways to cope with frustration," she advised, her words tinged with a touch of therapeutic wisdom.

She then recommended an X-ray to rule out any fractures or serious damage. "Let's get a closer look to ensure there are no underlying issues. Follow me to the X-ray room."

As we walked towards the X-ray room, Dr. Rodriguez continued the conversation, offering insights on managing stress and anger. Her guidance was a unexpected but welcomed addition to the evening, turning the medical visit into an opportunity for self-reflection.

In the X-ray room, she explained the procedure and assured me it would provide a clearer picture of what might be causing the persistent pain. The process was swift, and as we waited for the results, she returned to the topic of coping mechanisms.

"Finding outlets for frustration is crucial. Have you considered activities like exercise, meditation, or even talking to someone you trust when you're upset?" she suggested, her demeanor a comforting blend of professionalism and genuine care.

As we awaited the X-ray results, the doctor's words lingered in the air, a subtle reminder that the journey to healing involved not just addressing physical pain but also exploring healthier ways to navigate the complexities of emotions. The unexpected encounter with Timothee had led me to the hospital, but in the doctor's guidance, I found a unexpected source of insight, turning a seemingly routine visit into a moment of reflection and potential growth.

Timothees pov:

I winced as the door closed behind Mia, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Dr. Rodriguez's gaze met mine, and I sensed she was digging for more than just details about my jaw.

"What happened here? I sense there's more to this than a simple jaw injury," she observed, her eyes a mix of professional concern and genuine curiosity.

"I got punched. Someone didn't like what I said," I admitted, the throbbing pain in my jaw a constant reminder of the consequences.

As the doctor probed further, my eyes couldn't help but follow Mia's exit. Her silhouette marked by disdain lingered in my mind. Dr. Rodriguez, attuned to the unspoken connection, pressed on.

"Was it Mia Harper who punched you?" she asked, her tone holding a delicate balance of understanding and inquiry.

I nodded, the frustration of the situation palpable. "Yeah, she didn't take too kindly to what I said. Now, here I am."