Purple - A Riff Lorton Love Story

Room 103

As I stepped into the hospital, a feeling of unease washed over me. I made my way to the front desk, where a receptionist greeted me with a polite smile.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

I took a deep breath before responding, my voice shaky with nerves. "Um, I'm looking for Riff Lorton," I said, my eyes darting around the bustling lobby.

The receptionist rifled through some papers on her desk, her expression growing somber. "He's in critical condition at the moment," she said gently. "Only family members are allowed in to see him. What is your relation to the patient?"

I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to answer. "I-I-I'm his fiance," I stammered, my heart racing.

As the receptionist continued to look down at her paperwork, I furtively slipped my mother's ring off the chain around my neck and onto my finger.

When she looked back up at me, her expression was guarded. "Is there any way you can prove that?" she asked.

I held up my left hand, revealing the ring on my finger. "This is my engagement ring," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Riff gave it to me."

"He's in Room 103," She said pointing to her left.

I stood outside the hospital room, my heart pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Riff lay on the bed, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with the steady beep of the machines hooked up to him.

I approached the bed and took a seat on the chair beside it. I reached out and took Riff's hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Jules."

Riff's eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing his tired eyes. He turned his head towards me and gave me a weak smile.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice sounding weak and hoarse.

I squeezed his hand gently. "How are you feeling?" I asked softly.

Riff shrugged weakly. "Like I got hit by a truck," he said, a hint of his usual humor in his voice.

I let out a small laugh, but the humor quickly faded as she looked down at Riff's bandaged chest.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I should have done more. I should've-"

Riff lifted his free hand and placed it on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's not your fault, Jules," he said. "You did everything you could."

I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Riff's forehead.

"I'm just glad you're okay," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Riff gave me a small smile, and then closed his eyes again. "Me too," he murmured.

I sat there for a while longer, holding Riff's hand, and watching him drift off to sleep. We were lying on the hospital bed, with my head resting on his chest. I felt Riff's chest rise and fall with each breath, and the sound of his heartbeat was comforting. So, I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of my problems lifting off my shoulders.

Riff noticed my relaxed state and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice rumbling through his chest.

I nodded and replied, "Yeah, I'm fine," my voice barely above a whisper.

Riff leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know," he said.