Treacherous

Chapter Ten

*~*~* Niall's POV *~*~*

My large hand engulfs Amie's as we move past our small argument, and seconds later there's a light knock on the door.

"Come in!" Amie yells, her voice still a little hoarse from crying earlier.

Warily, Sarah makes her way into the room, her eyes widening when she notices Amie's still distressed state. Her eyes are red and puffy and she looks exhausted even though it's only 6 in the afternoon.

"Everything okay here?" she asks, cautiously stepping towards us. It's now that I notice the clipboard she clasps in her right hand.

"Yes. Are those the results?" I wave off her curious prying and point to the clipboard in her hands.

"Yeah..." She eyes me circumspectly as she makes her way over to Amie's bed. "The results were pretty good. Not wonderfully good, but not dangerously bad."

"Mind explaining that further?" I question as nicely as possible, given my panicking state.

Sarah throws me a look, "I'm getting to it."

"Sorry." My eyes turn downwards towards my shoes as I wait for her to continue.

"Now." By her tone I can tell she regrets snapping, but I just patiently wait for her to reveal the news while my stomach bubbles with anxiety. "Like Dr. Von Schniefell explained to you earlier, your brain was incised either from surgery or from the bullet, we're not sure which..."

"Wait, wait, " I interrupt her. "We weren't told that. I was told it was specifically from the bullet." No one ever bothered to mention that the surgeons here might be the reason she has memory problems.

"Um, it should have been cited back at the beginning, right when we found out about it," she utters, evidently confused.

"Well, we didn't receive that information, but please, continue." I wave my hand towards her with a flourish and give her the fakest smile I can muster. Truthfully though, I am so beyond pissed.

My hands are clenched into fists at my sides and I can practically feel my face glowing red with anger. If Amie forgets me, the person who was in charge of her operation better watch their back. I've thought about how it would be if she forgot me, and no doubt about it, if she did, I'd be by her side every second, desperately striving to get my girl back no matter the consequences. But the thought never occurred to me that the 'girl who disappeared' wasn't the reason.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Amie's fragile hand unraveling my fingers and tunneling itself into the hole she made. I relax my hand, allowing hers to grasp and squeeze mine reassuringly. She runs her fingers over the tiny nail marks I made in my palm, bringing my angry temper down until it's all but nonexistent.

I bring her hand up to my mouth, planting a small kiss on her knuckle before lowering it back down to my side, swinging it back and forth as I turn back to Sarah. She was watching our interaction intently and resumes clarifying what we've both been dying to know, but not before throwing me a cheeky wink, which I can't help but smile at.

"I guess I'll pick up where I left off." Sarah exasperatedly sighs before she talks again, "You know what? Screw all this explaining crap. The rounded number of times this may occur again is somewhere near 25. These may happen sporadically or all at one time in your life, we don't know for sure. And there's no telling if you'll come back every time. That is in your own hands, Amie."

My eyes scan over Amie's face, watching her reaction raptly. Her eyebrows scrunch up as she thinks about it, but her eyes remain dull. I hate seeing her eyes like this, so void of life. Now I know why blind people are said to have grey eyes; it's a boring color, and it holds nothing but emptiness.