L O S T .|| ✔ //MxM

F I F T E E N .

The next time I saw him, was two weeks after the day I went home for the first time.

Well actually it was the first time I came face to face with him.

I had been sneaking in and out of the hospital at night when he was sleeping to check on him. I never entered his room, instead allowing a glimpse of him through the window blinds to calm whatever worry had begun to build up in my mind.

So understandably, I was nervous. For all the wrong reasons.

I was nervous to see him finally stand and take a walk out of his room.

I was nervous about whether or not he was healthy enough to leave his bed.

But most of all, I was nervous on seeing his reaction. I wanted so badly- though I'll never admit to myself- for him to have missed me.

And of course above all, I couldn't wait to hear him speak to me.

I just didn't envisage how much I badly wanted it.