3 Month Leave | the MENTALIST

MONTH 1 : pt II

Ronnie woke up exactly eighteen hours later. Before she ever opened her eyes, the smell of something wonderful reached her nose, and she unearthed herself from her blankets to breathe in the delicious scent. She'd slept straight through her pain meds, so as soon as she began to move around, the pain set in like a bear trap clenched around her waist.

Tossing back the blankets and staggering out of bed, she hobbled to the door and opened it.

Cho sat at the breakfast bar, reading a book, rubbing the back of his neck with a pained wince. He looked up at the sound of her movement and frowned. The moment he saw her, he let his book fall shut and got to his feet. "Hey. You can't be walking around."

She pouted, peering at the stove to try to spot the source of the smell that had her stomach growling. "I'm okay." She'd just had the best sleep of her life on sheets that smelled like Walmart, and she wanted food.

He pointed back into the room, eyebrows raised in earnest. It looked more like a threat, honestly. "Would you get back in bed? You cannot be walking around."

Ronnie crossed her arms. She'd just gotten out of bed and had no desire to get back into it. "What am I supposed to do, not get out of bed for another week? That's crazy, Cho."

Hands on her elbows, he pushed her back into the room and urged her back into bed. "Actually, that's doctor's orders. Think of it this way—if you don't let yourself heal, you'll screw yourself up so badly that you can't work out anymore."

Any arguments died on her lips as he watched her tuck her blankets over her lap and sit up against a stack of pillows. Her coloring was still sickly, her limbs still trembling uncontrollably, each of her movements emphasized by a wince or a grimace. Cho shook out her next dose of pain pills and handed them to her with a cup of water.

As she downed them without complaint, he picked up the remote and switched on the tv. "Here. Murder, She Wrote, all queued up for you." The familiar theme began playing through the speakers, sparking an expression of delight on her face. "Stay here. I'll get you food."

Ronnie lit up instantly. Murder, She Wrote, painkillers, and dinner? Things were shaping up. "Thanks."

the MENTALIST

Cho returned a few minutes later with a bowl of the most incredible looking chicken and rice soup, and a steaming hot cup of tea, but he found her sitting right where he left her with her computer open on her lap. He knew for certain that he'd placed the computer on the desk across the room, and pursed his lips at the evidence that she'd gotten out of bed again. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for apartments." She reached desperately for the dinner tray, pushing the laptop back to make room. "Have you eaten yet?"

"A while ago. I'll eat again soon." The silence ticked between them as she took a cautious bite of the hot soup and then positively melted back into her pillows. He couldn't help a smile as she practically sang his praises over his culinary skills.

"Bring it in here and eat with me."

He cringed. "And watch this show? Yeah, I don't know."

Ronnie rolled her eyes and cradled the bowl to her chest. The pain was fading, her stomach was happy, and her favorite show was on in the background. She didn't care about a single thing except for that moment. "Thank you for dinner."

He nodded, and then let his eyes fall to her laptop. "Why are you looking for apartments?" He had literally just moved her in. He had just asked her to move in with him and she was already looking to leave again.

Ronnie stared at him, confused. She had no home, no hotel room, and her dearest friend was banished from his own bed. What was she supposed to do, buy an RV? "Because I need to find an apartment?"