Me before you

chapter 40

"I don't want to do it."

"Please? Just one more try?"

"There's no point."

"Yes there is."

"No there's not."

"Y/n." Sana sighed exasperatedly and narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend – Y/n was sitting in her wheelchair across the bedroom, holding a tennis ball loosely in one hand, and glaring at it like it was everything bad in the world.

They were in Y/n's room in her annex, where they'd first met - which could have been today, the sheer droning endless time that had dragged by while they sat opposite one another, arguing this same thing.

Sana had come over early while Louis was at the park with a friend, planning to help Y/n through the simpler exercises the therapist left for her to do at home, then maybe make a nice lunch before going out. She'd had it all planned out neatly in her head. They'd go along the seafront, meet up with Louis after and then all go back to hers for dinner.

So far they hadn't quite reached lunch.

"Y/n, come on. You have to." Sana repeated, exasperated. She tried to restrain a sigh, pacing sharply around the space in front of Y/n's bed. He heeled boots clicked loudly on the floor. "The doctor said, without the exercises the movement won't come back."

"It won't anyway," Y/n remarked, sharp hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. She rolled her eyes like a huffy teenager. "I just do the same useless crap every time, same as yesterday and the day before that –"

"Well then it's not hard, is it?" Sana smiled thinly. Y/n glowered back at her, and for a second, Sana saw exactly what she must have looked like as a moody toddler.

Clearly, the tough-love approach was not working.

Unfortunately for Sana, she wasn't exactly an expert in any other types. Except...

Sana stood up from her chair and made her way over to Y/n's, where she leaned down, hands braced on the arms of the chair and brushed a slow, soft kiss over her lips. For a second, she felt Y/n relax and soften against her. Then she pulled away, spine straightening sharply as she stepped back.

"Hey –" Y/n started, annoyed, staring after her.

"Again." Sana nodded at the tennis ball.

"Why should I?" Y/n whined.

Sana folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Because you're not getting any more of those until you do."

"This is so not fair." Y/n scrunched her nose, turning back to glare at the tennis ball again.

Huffily, she gave it a feeble squeeze. Her fingers closed tighter around it, as they did sometimes, but as always, nothing much else happened. Feeling Sana's eyes fixed on her, she ignored the surge of annoyance in her stomach and squeezed harder. Or tried to, at least. The result was the same.

"There," Y/n said, opening her fingers as best as she could. Thankfully, it didn't take much on her part for the tennis ball to fall from her hand, bouncing a few times on the hardwood floor before rolling away.

Doll-like eyes darted up to Sana's. "I did it again. Happy now?"

Y/n almost winced at the hard edge to her own voice. She hadn't meant to snap at her – she never did, but it just kept happening more and more. There was a tight, heavy feeling in her chest, like she was caught up in a spiders web, and she couldn't get out.

"No," Sana said. She sighed. When she'd become a damn physiotherapist, she didn't know.

"Look, Y/n," Sana flipped her hair behind her ear and sat down in the chair beside her, fingers meticulously smoothing down her skirt over her knees. "I know this is hard for you –"