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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.
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I WOKE UP BY THE CONTINUOUS MEOWING OF SEEMINGLY A MILLION CATS. Blinking repeatedly to adjust to my dark surroundings, last day's memories flashed through my mind in a haze. The attack taking most of the space in my brain. And rightfully so.
Rushing up and getting dizzy, I stabilised myself before walking to the Operation Room, since I was still at the Animal Clinic. As expected, Deaton was there. And so was Scott.
"Good morning." The veterinarian said cheerfully, "Or should I say, good evening?" He asked with a mischievous smile, turning his head to look at me, before returning to his task at hand; putting some jars in place.
"How is Scott?" I asked immediately, sparing the small talk, as I looked at the unconscious boy on the surgical table.
"He's fine. Stable." I let out a breath, I had not realised I was holding, before the man continued, "How are you? Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine." I replied curtly, my eyes travelling over Scott's form and setting on his bandage-covered injury.
"He really is okay." He told me after a moment, seeing as I did not falter and kept watching Scott, guarding him almost, "Would you like to eat something? I have some toast in the other room. And some coffee, tea. Whatever you like."
"I'm fine." I said again, clenching my jaw as I tuned in to Scott's vitals; the beating of his heart, the soft inhale and exhale of oxygen and carbon dioxide.
"Despite not believing you, you won't be fine if you don't eat." He said, stepping closer to me, "Alexia. He's fine. And you will find Derek." His hand found my shoulder, patting it once as he looked into my eyes, "Go. Eat."
