𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎? || 𝙱𝙻𝙻𝙺 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔

𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 || 𝙼𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝙺𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝙿𝚝.2

Part 2, hope you enjoy <3

¤▪︎~~~~▪︎¤

●

●

●

●

●

●

●

●

●

●

●

¤▪︎~~~~▪︎¤

The days and nights blurred together in the sterile hospital waiting room. Michael and Ness had carved out a small corner for themselves, a makeshift camp of hope and despair. They took turns keeping vigil, their lives revolving around [name]'s unconscious form. Each morning, they were greeted by the same sight: the endless rows of plastic chairs, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the sterile scent that seemed to cling to their clothes and skin.

The doctor had delivered the devastating news a week ago. "She's fallen into a coma," he had said, his voice heavy with empathy. "The injury to her brain is severe. We don't know when, or if, she will wake up."

Michael had felt his world collapse around him. He remembered gripping the edge of his chair, trying to anchor himself as the room spun. Ness had been equally devastated, his face pale and drawn as he struggled to process the information.

Since then, time had taken on a surreal quality. Michael counted the days in cups of hospital coffee and the muted sound of the television in the corner. Ness stayed by his side, a steadfast presence in a world that had been turned upside down.

One evening, Michael sat slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. It was just after visiting hours, and the hospital had settled into a quiet lull. Ness returned with two cups of coffee, handing one to Michael before sitting down beside him.

"Thanks," Michael muttered, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. He glanced at Ness, who looked just as exhausted as he felt. "How are you holding up?"

Ness shrugged, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I don't know, man. I just keep thinking about all the things I wish I had said to her. All the things I should have done differently."

Michael nodded, the weight of his own regrets pressing down on him. "Yeah, me too."

For a moment, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Ness spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you ever think about what you'll say to her when she wakes up?"

Michael looked at Ness, the question hanging in the air between them. "Every day," he admitted. "I keep replaying that night over and over in my head. Wishing I could go back and change things."

Ness nodded, his expression somber. "Me too."

They fell silent again, the sound of the hospital's nighttime routine a backdrop to their shared grief. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, their lives became a rhythm of hope of waiting. Michael clung to the belief that [name] would wake up, that he would get the chance to tell her how he really felt.

¤▪︎~~~~▪︎¤

Six months later, the waiting room had become a second home to Michael and Ness. The nurses knew them by name, and the doctors gave them regular updates, though there was rarely any change.