✓ BECAUSE WE WERE YOUNG | NIKI

16 - Doctor's Appointment

"Did you know there was a big mansion at the edge of town?" I ask my father as I sit in the kitchen, drinking my medicaments and taking another sip of water to wash them down. My father, who's busy making dinner, turns to me with a raised eyebrow. 

"Yeah, what about it?" He says so matter of factly, as if he's discussing the weather. "I heard its owners were gamblers who made their fortune during the Gold Rush. They're very wealthy, to say the least." 

"I'm friends with their son, actually." I fix the tube to my oxygen tank while his eyes widen as if I just revealed some big secret that he wasn't expecting. "He goes to Hope Haven. He's a nice boy. He has diabetes." 

My father's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at my revelation. "Is that so? Well, it's good to hear that you've made friends with him." There's a hint of curiosity in his voice, but he doesn't press further. "Is he the one you visited along with your other friends?"

"Yes. Dad, his house is like something out of a fairy tale," I stand up, resting my hands against the counter while I watch him chop the vegetables. "It's huge, with big gardens and beautiful architecture. It almost looks like a palace. I even thought of hosting balls there and how we could dress like the Folk and dance under the stars."

"You should probably stop reading about royalty and fairy tales before bed." I roll my eyes at that, but I can't stop myself from smiling. "Next Monday is your doctor's appointment, isn't it? Have you been journaling your symptoms? He said to keep track of them." 

"Yes, I've been keeping track of the fact that I can't breathe properly without an oxygen tank. Thank you." I'm not frustrated, I just like to remind him that I'm well aware of my symptoms. I appreciate his concern, but sometimes it feels like he forgets that I live with the illness every day. I'm not my lungs, but it's hard not to feel defined by them sometimes. "You don't have to drive me to the hospital, I'll manage on my own." 

"Really? I can take the morning off and go with you- unless you have plans with someone else. I wouldn't want to intrude." His smirk, the way his eyes glisten with mischief, and the way he raises his eyebrow in pure amusement make him look like a five year old boy who's just been caught sneaking cookies before dinner. "So, Is Niki going with you?"

I roll my eyes and throw my hands in the air out of mock exasperation. "Dad, seriously? Stop teasing me, Niki is just my friend. And yes, he'll probably come with me, but that doesn't mean you have to worry about intruding. You're my dad, after all. You're allowed to intrude." The words, even to my own ears, sound fake and hollow. Friends? As if. Friends don't kiss each other and hold hands and share lingering glances filled with unspoken emotions. But I can't bring myself to admit the truth to my father, not yet. It's still too new, too uncertain, too scary, and I don't even know what Niki and I are. So, for now, I stick with the safe, familiar lie.

"Just friends. Hm." He smirks again, his playful expression not fooling me for a second. I know my father well enough to recognize when he's onto something. But I also know that he respects my privacy, and he won't push me to reveal more than I'm ready to share. "Well, if Niki isn't available, just let me know. I can always rearrange my schedule." 

I smile a little and tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, earning a chuckle from him in response. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a brief hug before releasing me. We eat dinner, the two of us making the big house around us feel like a little cozy haven. The clinking of utensils against plates, the soft glow of the dining room lights, the quiet conversation between us—it all feels so comforting, so ordinary. Though I sometimes wish it was still the three of us. That night, I dream of my mother and she tells me to live and love. She tells me that she never once regretted loving Dad, never once regretted having me. I wake up to an empty room, her warmth dissipating the moment I opened my eyes. 

My father is already at work when I make my way down and to the kitchen. With IPF, my routine has become second nature, and I begin my morning ritual of taking my medication and checking my oxygen levels without much thought. I sit at the kitchen table and stare out of the window, watching the soft rays of the morning sun filter through the leaves of the trees. The world outside is beautiful, yet sometimes I fail to see it. 

The sound of knocking on the door makes me pause before I frown and rise from my seat. I wonder who would- oh. Oh. When I peek through the peephole, I'm surprised to see Niki standing there, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. My heart skips a beat, and a rush of warmth floods through me at the sight of him. Quickly, I unlock the door and swing it open, a smile breaking across my face. "Niki, what are you doing here?" I sign. 

"Your doctor's appointment." He signs, gives me an embarrassed smile and scratches the back of his neck like a nervous habit. "I'm too early, right?" The way he looks at me so softly, so gently, makes it impossible for me to tell him he's right. He's not too early, he's just right. 

I shake my head, my own smile mirroring his. "No, you're right on time. I'm glad you're here. Come in." The two of us step inside the house and I nervously fidget with my fingers, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest that comes with having Niki by my side. It's strange how his presence can simultaneously calm and excite me, like the calm before a storm. "Do you want some coffee?" I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, making my way to the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee. Niki follows me, his footsteps echoing softly behind me as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter.

"Sure, thank you," he signs with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I catch myself staring, mesmerized by the way the morning light dances across his features. He's so beautiful, I can never get tired of admitting it. If Dracula saw him in the streets of Romania, he would be so mesmerized by his beauty that he would start writing a bunch of poems about how much he craves the taste of his blood. Okay, maybe that was a little too dramatic, but it's true.

As I busy myself with preparing the coffee, I can feel Niki's eyes on me, his gaze warm and comforting. When I turn around and lock my eyes with his, he smiles, making all my plans of living alone and dying alone vanish away like mist in the morning sun. Me wanting to live is a dangerous thing, a reckless desire that threatens to consume me. But when I see Niki's smile, when I feel his presence beside me, I can't help but feel like maybe it's worth the risk. We sit in comfortable silence as the coffee brews, the only sound filling the kitchen the gentle hum of the machine. I pour us both a cup and slide one over to Niki, who takes it with a soft smile. 

"Your father is not home?" He signs and I tear my gaze from his fingers, staring at the way he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. 

"No, he's already at work," I sign back, my cheeks warming up. "It's just us." The silence that follows is not uncomfortable, quite the opposite. I enjoy the way I know he's stealing glances at me when I look away, the way he always seems to find his way back to my eyes. "Can you wait here for a moment? I'll go change and come back. I'll be quick." 

When he nods at that, I stand up and carry my oxygen tank along with me upstairs where I quickly change into a pair of comfortable jeans and a cozy sweater, swapping my pajamas for something more presentable. I take a moment to smooth down my hair and adjust my oxygen tubes before making my way back downstairs to where Niki is waiting. He looks up as I enter, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me. I can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest at the way he smiles at me, his warmth wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

"Ready to go?" I sign, pointing at the door before Niki nods eagerly and sets down his coffee cup. I grab my coat from the hook by the door, slipping it on as Niki helps me with my oxygen tank. Today is no different than all those days when I go back to the hospital and have them remind me that I have an illness that will eventually limit my life. But today feels different. Today, the friend I made is by my side, and somehow, that changes everything. The friend whom I kissed, makes the fear a little less daunting.