Experiment of Madness

55-A Promise from a Prince.-Dag

A month later.

For the past month, I've stayed by Aerra's side in the hospital, not letting her out of my sight. My presence has never left her for a moment, as I constantly sit by her bedside, holding her hand and watching her every move. The hospital room has become my second home, my focus unwavering and my protectiveness at its peak.

Even when she slept, I remained by her side, unwilling to let her out of my sight. My protectiveness and worry kept me awake, my vigilance unyielding as I stayed by her side. The medical equipment beeped softly, while the silence of the night surrounded me, my sole attention fixed on her.

Now, I'm seated beside her sleeping form, my gaze fixed on her, studying every detail of her face, each curve and contour. I can't help but feel a mix of worry, love, and helplessness, knowing that the road to her recovery might be long.

I whisper, "I love you," The words are soft yet filled with unspoken fears. "And that scares me. I'm changing, and that scares me too."

"It's not that I'm scared of loving you," I clarify, my words filled with genuine honesty. My gaze remains locked on her, my hand gently holding hers. "But I'm scared of the thought of losing you," my voice carries the weight of my fear, "I'm scared that my love could just be taken away one day," I can't bring myself to finish my sentence, my voice trembling.

Gently, I clasp her hand, holding it tightly in mine, desperately willing her to stay, my voice pleading. "Please stay with me, my mad girl, stay with me," I beg quietly, the weight of my words filled with love, concern, and plea, my thumb gently tracing the back of her hand in a comforting gesture, hoping it will somehow reach her.

I brought her hand close to my lips, gently kissing her hand, a gentle caress that serves as a tender gesture. My lips softly brush her skin, a mix of longing and affection.

The door gently opens, and Dr. Paul enters, his voice a soft whisper. "Can we talk?" he questions gently. He stands at the doorway, his eyes glancing between me and Aerra, concern evident in his gaze.

After one last glance at Aerra, I reluctantly let go of her hand, standing up and following Dr. Paul outside the room. Closing the door quietly behind me, I join him, preparing myself for the conversation ahead.

Dr. Paul's voice is filled with concern, yet tinged with skepticism. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation. He reminds me, "I know you told me this," he says, his words tinged with uncertainty. I've previously informed him about my family's decision, yet he continues to express concern. It's evident that my previous reassurances didn't fully dispel his worries.

His words trigger a mix of frustration and determination within me. My voice carries a hint of impatience. "My family is sure," I say, my tone carrying weight and conviction. We've had this talk before," I remind him, my determination unwavering.

Dr. Paul sighs reluctantly, though his expression remains skeptical. His voice is tinged with a mix of disapproval and doubt, yet his gaze holds a trace of understanding. "A few people in your family are sure," he corrects, his tone careful.

I narrow my gaze at the doctor, my patience wearing thin.
"My family is determined," I state firmly, my voice rising slightly, my frustration evident. "They are sure. I am sure," I assert, my determination unwavering.

Dr. Paul finally switches topics, concern evident in his voice. He asks, "How's your injury? I heard you got hurt."
I respond briefly, my tone carrying a hint of dismissive assurance. "It's better," I reply.
Dr. Paul exhales, his expression a blend of relief and lingering concern. "That's good,"he responds.

My phone rings, interrupting the conversation, and I glance at the caller ID. It's Indie. "Excuse me," I mutter, stepping away from the conversation with the doctor. I answered the call, my tone tinged with a hint of annoyance.