Accident Prone || m.c.

~ Chapter Five ~

Mikaela's POV

The best way I can describe the past two days of my life would probably be mixture of medieval torture and asylum level mental tests.

A certain concussed fellow has been giving me hell nonstop every 10 minutes for the entirety of his conscious stay here. As if I didn't already have enough to do around here with almost half our normal staff gone, I also have to deal with a 19 year old ill-bred demon who doesn't seem to know when to back the hell off.

On queue, my buzzer goes off for the millionth time telling me I need to attend to room 107. I groan before slowly making my way there. I know I don't need to hurry because it's going to be about something meaningless such as getting him a glass of water or checking for monsters under his bed. Yes, that has happened multiple times.

I enter the room to see the hooligan with his face scrunched up in what looks like agony. Was something actually wrong for once?

"What happened?" I ask quickly, seeing how his face still hadn't moved from its tortured looking position.

His mouth opens to answer but only a strangled sound emerges.

I go into full on doctor mode, hurriedly searching my mind for possibilities as to what could be causing his pain. Did he move somehow so his head wound ripped open? Was he having a severe headache? I don't freaking know maybe it was a leg cramp!

Calm down.

You've been through worse situations than this.

Way worse.

Just breathe and figure out what you need to do.

I do as my senses tell me before heading over to check his vitals to see if anything was wrong there. After deciding all of those were adequate, I gently place my hands on either side of his face to try and get it to relax.

"Michael, please try and tell me what's wrong." I tell him calmly, keeping my hands lightly resting on his face.

"I-I-" He chokes out harshly. "I-I got you!" He yells, perfectly clear this time.

I rip my hands away from his face, pure shock coursing through my body. I can actually feel the anger surging within me and I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from breaking some critical hospital rules.

No, calm down.

Remember, he's just an idiot.

No need to get fired over his imbecilic ass.

I watch him laugh for a few more seconds before putting a smile on my face.

"That was a good one Michael, you should really think about acting. Have you ever been in a play?" I ask, trying to sound genuinely interested even though I couldn't really give less fucks.

His laughing slowly diminishes and his eyebrows knits together in confusion. I guess he wasn't ready for me to react that way.

Perfect.

"Uh, no I haven't. Was more of a band kid, y'know." He answers cautiously, waiting for the catch in my niceness.

"Oh that's nice. I was in band also. Played the trumpet, flute, piccolo, oboe on occasion, but mainly focused on the french horn." I add.

"Wow that's a lot of instruments. I played the flute in year 6 and 7 but decided I'd had enough of being made fun of so I quit. Took up guitar lessons soon after though." He says, doing a stupid air guitar motion afterwards. Oh my god the level of dork is incalculable.