We've got history! He's the past that gives me nightmares.
We've got chemistry! He's the present that makes my skin tingle.
We've got a lot in common, a roof and music to begin with.
My friends are his friends.
We like the same things or at least he...
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This chapter is dedicated to anyone and everyone that's ever lost a loved one to cancer or other terminal disease, my heart goes out to you and I hope you find some sweet, sweet comfort.
A woman on a mission could be a force to be reckoned with. Iverson learnt that after the call from Dr. Silver and the ER hesitated in letting Blue go after only a few hours out of the minimum forty-eight she was supposed to spend under suicide watch. She was leaving though, she made herself very clear. Adding that she would love to see someone try to stop her.
Her eyes sparkled with a challenging glint and her body buzzed with the new fire hope ignited in her, her daughter was getting a shot at life and not even the host of hell could keep her away. Iverson might have hastily signed away his life for all he knew, in the guise of an undertaking to watch and keep her safe from herself.
The ride to the hospital in Biggie's Range Rover was statically pensive, not even Biggie had anything to say to lift the uncertainty and somberness that settled on all of them like a wet, suffocating blanket. Biggie was okay with being their chauffeur while the two of them stared out the window on their individual sides at the back seat.
Iverson tried to keep an optimistic mind but he couldn't stop his brain from recounting every single thing that could possibly go wrong, from the heart possible infection, to bleeding, or worst Lyric's body rejecting it.
He had seen how hope had breathed a new life into Blue and he doubt she'd survive if anything went wrong at this point and if anything happened to her or Lyric...
He was at a rather unpleasant place in his thoughts when he felt her reached for one of his cold hands and squeezed.
"She's going to be okay." She told him and the irony of her comforting him when she was the one who had slashed her wrist open because she thought she'd reach a dead end, wasn't lost on him. "Lyric is the strongest kid I know, she's a fighter." Blue said with enough conviction.
Just like her mum, Iverson wanted to say but his throat clogged up on him.
"She was barely twenty-four hours old when she had her first opened heart surgery, they didn't think she'd make it but she did." Blue explained further, Iverson wasn't sure if that was supposed to make him feel better but he wanted to hear everything, anyway.
"I hadn't even named her yet. They kept calling her '027' and it annoyed me to no end but it was my fault, I didn't pick a name for her to the very last day because... I guess I was sort of hoping you'll show up and we could do it together."
Guilt rippled through him, he squeezed her hand back and tried to remember what he was possibly doing the day his child was born. "I had two more surgeries after the one they did here, and it still took close to four months for me to properly speak again. My vocal cord had gotten infected, they told me. I spent a lot of months after attending physiotherapy and all kinds of therapies.
