The Books I'll Never Write

Fine (pt 3)

Hospitals had always creeped us both out. I knew it was because he had seen his grandmother pass away in one, but when he pressed me about my own reasons, I had always deflected the question.

Can't really hide that one anymore.

I let myself blink back into reality, reluctant to let go of what had been an amazing dream. Flashes of my fake boyfriend cradling me, telling me I was going to be fine, protecting me from the world still rebelliously swirled through my brain as I took everything in.

And noticed the sleeping boy passed out at the foot of my bed.

Oh crap. The heart rate monitor picked up on the palpable wave of anxiety that hit me. 

Not a dream. Not a dream at all.

How was I going to explain this to him? What had he already been told?

How do you tell someone you know what hospital he had taken you too based on the color of the curtain partitions around you (Blue, so the Emergency Room off 1st and 5th). That the arms that had hugged them right before that electric kiss on Christmas were scarred from the pinpricks of old blood test samples (long sleeves helped with this one). That the body that fits perfectly in theirs at night had withstood dozens of medical tests only to be told time and time again that everything was fine (for that, I had no tricks).

It was going to be fine. I had to believe this or the rapid beeping of that monitor was going to wake my man up before I had figured out what to tell him.

Assess the situation. Calm down.

I took a deep breath and looked around. I knew the hospital, which meant I knew I could trust these nurses to be confidential. They had probably given him very little information, which also meant he was probably losing his mind. All I had was the IV and heart monitor, another good sign. Not too epic of an episode or there would be more wires; scarier tubes that would have only made him panic more. Then again, this was his first experience with me and my medical issues so he had probably gone insane anyway.

Too late to worry about that now. I'd bring the nurses some cookies later.

I moved my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes, and noticed for the first time the way the wires had been carefully untangled and placed on top of the blankets to avoid them getting pulled on the sheets. My hair had also been pulled back in a low bun, and my head was resting comfortably on at least three pillows.

A sudden soft snore came from the figure slumped over my bed. Of course.

Only this idiot would think to pull my hair out of the way and untangle wires sticking out of my body. No one else would get me extra pillows and- I lifted the blanket for confirmation- thick hospital socks. I could feel my chest physically swell with fondness as he let loose a stuttered breath.

Because I also noticed for the first time, that his left hand was entangled with my right.

So for a one small, endless moment, I let myself fall deeper in love with someone who I knew would never feel the same way. Someone who had gotten me help, who had made sure I was comfortable even in a hospital bed, who held my hand even though I was unconscious. Who I still didn't know how to explain all of this too, but I was beginning to trust wouldn't leave me like the others had. 

I gave his fingers a small squeeze, and used the other hand to push some of his hair out of his face. Lovely, thick lashes dusted his cheeks and his lips puckered with every exhale.

The heart monitor spiked again.

And his eyes flew open, shattering the moment.

I was gonna break that machine.