LILAC
The beeping of the machines around me serves as a c o n s t a n t reminder that I'm not alone but in a place meant to help me. Yet, the sterile environment of the hospital room makes it feel like a cage. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I glance out the window.
The sun is shining, casting a comforting glow over the city outside, but it feels so far removed from the turmoil inside me.
Quentin hasn't left my side since he came back. He sits close, his presence a comforting weight beside me. We don't talk much; it feels like the air is thick with unspoken fears and hopes, and sometimes silence is easier than trying to find the right words.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asks, breaking the stillness. He pulls out his phone, ready to find something to distract us both.
"Sure," I reply, forcing a small smile, grateful for the effort he's making to lighten the mood. The idea of sinking into a fictional world, if only for a little while, sounds appealing.
Quentin scrolls through his options, occasionally glancing up to gauge my reactions. "How about a comedy? We could use a good laugh."
"Definitely," I nod, and he settles on a light-hearted rom-com. As the movie begins, I lean back against the pillows, trying to focus on the screen. But the plot seems to blur together, my mind drifting back to the conversation with France and the uncertainty of my diagnosis.
As the movie plays on, I steal glances at Quentin.
He's so engrossed in the film, his expressions shifting with the storyline. It's comforting to see him lose himself in something, even if just for a moment. I can't help but smile at his animated reactions, and for a brief second, I forget about the heaviness that hangs over me.
Halfway through, a loud knock interrupts us. The door swings open, and in walks France, a clipboard in hand. My heart races again, anxiety creeping back in as I brace myself for more news.
"Hey, how are we doing?" he asks, looking between us with a warm smile. "Still surviving?"
Quentin chuckles lightly, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. "Just trying to find some joy in the chaos," he replies.
France nods, his expression shifting to seriousness. "That's important. I wanted to check in on you, Lilac. How are you feeling?"
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, the fear creeping back into my voice. "I'm okay, I guess. Just. . . trying to process everything."
YOU ARE READING
Skies & Florets
RomansaShe has built a quiet life in her small-town flower shop, surrounded by the blooms she's always loved. But as the years pass, the memory of her childhood friend-the boy who once promised to be by her side-lingers like a ghost among the petals. Now g...
