Chasing Miss Conner •OLD VERSION•

Thirty Four

|Song: The Scientist By Coldplay|

Thirty Four

My memory of where we went from there is hazy and distorted, but I remember blinking red lights and then being wheeled down a vaguely familiar hallway.

When I woke up the next morning, there was a needle in my arm connected to an IV with a clear fluid in it, and my head hurt like a bitch. I could barely swallow, my tongue felt fuzzy and three times bigger than it should be.

I groaned and rolled over on the cot, rubbing my aching temples. My eyes were slitted slightly but they snapped open immediately when I fully took in where I was.

White walls.

Beeping machine with three seconds in between every beep.

Golden-blond hair........wait what?

It took me a long moment to register what was in front of me. I was face to face with a pair of unforgettable cerulean blue eyes that were narrowed directly on me. I flinched back, the anger that radiated off her making me wish the floor would swallow me whole.

Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head and her face was clear of makeup, but it made her look all the more perfect.

"This isn't what it looks like-" I started, snapping my jaw shut when she put up a hand and let out a long, slow breath. I assumed she was trying to tamp down the urge to reach over and strangle me.

"Don't." She whispered, shutting her eyes and shaking her head slightly. "Just don't."

I gave her as long as she needed, and it was several minutes before she could face me again. Her eyes flicked open and what I saw reflected back at me in those beautiful eyes I loved so much, made my heart clench. I witnessed the anger drain out of her face and instead pain took its place.

I caused that.

"How are you feeling?"

The shock of the question had me leaning back a bit as my chaos-ridden mind registered the situation. Self-loathing immediately smacked me in the face. Here I was, sitting in the hospital room of my girlfriend, who'd been stabbed, who I haven't even come to see once while she was awake, and I was hungover. And she was asking how I was feeling.

"I'm okay." I whispered. She nodded stiffly and reached over to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, running her fingers across my cheekbone in featherlight touch as she retracted her hand.

Tears filled my eyes at the simple but loving gesture. I didn't want her to be sweet to me. I didn't deserve it. I wanted her to yell and scream and cry because I'd hurt her. I wanted her to hurt me back. I knew she wouldn't, it just wasn't in her nature. Even if I did deserve it.

My eyes trailed down from her face and took in the black sports bra and track shorts she was wearing. Had it been anywhere else and any other time I would've been subjected to point out the way they brought out the gorgeous tan in her skin, but I couldn't when there was a large bandage that wrapped around her waist and when I could see a thin line of blood along the top of it.

Before I could stop them, my fingers reached out of their own accord and traced the edges of the medical tape. Her muscles stiffened under my barely-there touch and I pulled my hand away but hers immediately latched onto it and placed it directly over the covered wound.