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P.O.V Angelina
I jolted awake, my breathing heavy.
I'm alive.
Taking a deep breath, I took this time to view my surroundings.
I was in Nicolas office. I attempted to get up but a sharp pain in my head caused me to sit back down.
"Wow there, you should rest." Dr.Kuznetsov said to me, "you hit your head pretty hard."
I was a little sad it wasn't Vera, after all she was the one who stitched my arm, but I guess Dr.Kuznetsov was nice too.
"My work here is done, you should feel better in a day or two. But I am going to leave some antihistamines. You have to take it two times a day okay. Just for a week or maybe less." He explained, placing a small, yellow, plastic bottle on the table next to the couch I was on.
He left right after, it appears that he must be tired of being called so often.
Resting my head back on the couch, I thought how could I have possibly survived this. My first allergic reaction was when I was ten. It was really bad, had to be rushed to the hospital, by the time I'd made it to the hospital I had eaten the tomatoes about five minutes before, it's a miracle I even survived.
And if Dr.Kuznetsov takes at least ten minutes to rush over here, how did I make it that long.
The door opened bringing my attention to it. I didn't even have to look to see who it was. I couldn't even catch a break.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
I looked at him disgusted and confused, "you tried to kill me and asking if I'm alright?"
"I didn't try to kill you svetlyak."
Back with that name again, I don't even know what the hell it means.
"I saved you." He said walking closer to the couch.
"Bullshit. How could you have possibly save me." I asked.
"I used an epipen." He explained.
Where did he get an epipen from?
"I bought fifty epipens after I figured out you were allergic to tomatoes, I would always carry one around, didn't think I'd need to use one until today." He said as if he could read my mind.
Oh. Fifty epipens?
Shit, if I ever called Nicolas crazy before, well this has to top it off. I didn't even own an epipen. Maybe because I knew what I was eating half the time.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked serious now.
"Tell you what?"
"That there was tomatoes in my breakfast." I said, a hint of irritation in my voice.
He sighed before running a hand through his hair, "I didn't know there was tomatoes in the food. I was so caught up in staring at you, that I barely touched my plate. I swear if I knew I would've told you."
Maybe this was my fault, I should've been paying attention to what was in front of me. Now I had to face the consequences.
I always get distracted easily anyway, I shouldn't blame people for my mistakes.
"Maybe you should start to carry two of them around just in case." I joked, and he chuckled, for the first time since I saw him.
"Maybe I should." He said, making me smile.
And suddenly I realised why I wasn't moving on; why I didn't want to move on. Because moving on means accepting a future without him, and maybe that's something I'm not ready to do yet.
Maybe not ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's 2am and I'm in my bathroom writing this😞
